Once again a growing fear and dread weighted upon Ridahne with every step. Partly it was because it would be difficult to see the state it was in, knowing what the Tree's demise would mean for all of Astra. But mostly she felt it was because the Tree pressed guilt onto the guilty, shame upon those who had done wicked deeds. And she had. She felt it all now, twisting and rising in a horrible torrent of anxiety, guilt, and fear. Ridahne was silent most of the ride, in part because she had little on her mind she thought needed sharing, and partly because she feared a level of emotional vulnerability if she dared open up the door to expression. She wasn't ready for that at the moment. 

Nor was she ready for the sight they found when they crested a small hill and saw the Tree standing tall and regal amidst a sea of cultivated land. The landscape was green and dotted with bits of color according to the kind of crop or plant that grew there. Stalks swayed in the wind, leaves tilted towards the sun, and bees hummed. It wasn't anything like what she'd seen in her vision. The same space of land, perhaps, but it had been different. Ravaged by decay and withered by drought. She had not seen it as it was currently, but what it would be in time. She felt a kind of deep, primal shudder as she beheld the tree even from such a distance. What she saw there was worthy of awe and wonder, and she could feel a kind of power resonate through her very bones as though she and the earth were one. 

The sensation left her the moment she registered that Darin had gone sprinting headlong into the field. "Ai! Darin, wait! Darin!"  But she was gone, either out of earshot or in such a fey mood that she didn't heed her calling. Ridahne muttered a curse and started to go after her, when she heard with her sharp elven ears the [I]swick[/I] of a blade being drawn and saw the steel flash in the sunlight just behind Darin. Few things could jumpstart Ridahne into action quite like that sound. She kicked Tsura with her heels and he charged, leaping forward with a neigh as he plunged down into the valley like an avalanche. 

Only a brief moment before the cry went out for Ravi, the workers could see and hear Ridahne charging at them with her bright scimitar held high in the morning sun. She and Tsura were thunder and lightning, and Mitaja by their side was a breath of swift wind. One farmhand tried to block her path, thinking that if he set himself in front of the horse, its rider might check him. She did not. Her will was iron and Tsura was glad to follow; the pair moved in a straight, unbroken line and were not deterred by this one man. He blanched and leapt aside almost at the last moment. Ridahne only checked Tsura when she reached Darin, who was no longer held at knifepoint but was delicately bleeding and still surrounded by an array of people. The elf spoke in her native tongue to Mitaja and at her word, the cat slid silkily to Darin's side, and if anyone tried to approach her, she would move to stand between them. Ridahne, meanwhile, worked a larger perimeter and would squeeze Tsura between Darin and anyone else nearby. She had her blade in hand and ready, though she did not use it wantonly. They had released Darin and that earned them some points in Ridahne's favor, but the blade remained in hand as a warning and a simple reminder: [I]We are not your prey.[/I]

"Anyone else touches him without permission and you'll have me to answer to. Keep your distance and we'll have no quarrel," She barked, still circling Tsura around. At this point, she began to hear whispers from some of the workers about someone named Ravi. Ridahne desperately wanted to demand answers about who this was and why these people were hostile, but something in her moved her to stay quiet. This was not her battle but Darin's, and Ridahne was merely there to back her up. The elf would see to her safety, but Darin would need to handle the rest of this situation on her own.