Fenn clenched his paw, feeling the soft earth shift under his digits. Vegetation spread out around him, blanketing the area in myriad shades of brown and green only broken by the intrusive facades of long ruined structures. What he saw might have been an alley between dwellings many years past, but the jungle was quick to swallow the abandoned ruins.
The dense underbrush would no doubt prove troublesome for beings of human stature, but Fenn’s mass allowed him to flatten most obstacles with little concern. Fangs bared, ruefully. He had little doubt that clearing the path would fall to him.
They found themselves on Earth this time, searching for another Seal of the Apocalypse. The demon did not know what to make of the fact. He did not know what it meant for his misgivings regarding the Seals to confirm that multiple had indeed been hidden on the Third Realm, and their taskmasters saw little need offer explanations beyond their immediate desires. Perhaps the mage would see fit to share new insights if he came across anything new, but Fenn would not hold his breath. Peaceful as the encounter had been, it had been brought about on a whim, and the chances of it bearing unexpected fruit were slim. Perhaps he ought to wonder why this time they were spared the presence of the lead Watcher. Regardless, such thoughts could be put away for the time being. They were, after all, a mere puzzle to distract him while he awaited the next battlefield.
And Fenn had little doubt that there were battlefields to be found within this jungle. Its denizens were restless, the sounds of frightened cries and of scampering animals reaching him from afar, and the slight breeze that managed to snake its way past the trees brought with it the intermixed scents of hell and the heavenly host. It would not be long before the sounds of the fighting itself reached him, he well knew.
While he sensed no threats in the immediate vicinity, the anticipation made the demon’s posture vaguely threatening.
“Must I restrain myself?” The wording made the grumble seem like a complaint addressed to himself, but not far from him stood the woman who had brought him there.
Lily, still in the guise of the Sídhe lady, albeit wearing loosely fitted shirt and pants, let her gaze wander around them, not looking at Fenn as she answered, “Yes. The quieter we are, the better chance to surprise any opponent, and not be surprised ourselves. For now, don’t burn anything, or topple any trees.”
Easier said than done. The hound could be deceptively quiet when the mood struck him, but his hunting grounds had been rocky ridges and rugged plains with little to no vegetation. With the dense foliage, that kind of stealth would prove quite difficult for him, particularly when he was chasing after prey.
Nonetheless, he grunted his understanding. He could restrain his flames. The forest burning around him would not bother him one whit, but alas, he did not have the pleasure of working alone for this. Not to say, there was no reason to think that the snake they sought would not be able to use the confusion to its advantage.
Still, Fenn continued staring at the Imp even as she looked at their surroundings. The objective she was given by the Council was simple. Obstruct the snake and defend the seal. That said, while she had been given the freedom to operate as she wished, the location to the latter had not been revealed.
The dog was certain the order would come, but he was not good-natured enough to volunteer his services.
“Fenn,” Lily said, finally looking at him, “can you search for Sevrin’s scent?”
Only then did the hound move. Forcing this request served its own purpose, even if there were few to see. He had lent his loyalty to her, not to the Council. It was a matter of principle for this to be shown in action and not just in word.
The hound’s muzzle moved closer to the ground, sniffing along as he trudged forward. “Naught but animals have frequented these parts in a long time,” he rumbled, nose still close to the ground like a dowsing rod. “If the snake was seen here, finding a trail should not be difficult.”
The demoness sighed. Of course things wouldn’t be easy. “Keep alert for anything, be it new smells, birds suddenly being spooked, or other sounds. I’ll keep eyes and ears open as well, but your senses are still sharper.” She glanced around before focusing solely on a patch of trees where there was a relatively large amount of free space to move. “That way,” she declared, pointing. “It is, to my knowledge, towards the center of the ruins. I suspect anyone, and anything, to do with the Seal will head that way. We will have a higher chance finding our colleagues, as well as Sevrin, that way… wherever they may be.”
But Fenn was hardly paying attention to her at that point. Something had caught his notice. The dog lowered himself near a patch of vegetation behind one of the ruined houses, led by his nose. The clumps of green nearby had been disturbed, leaving bits of leaves and branches littering the path. Among the plants, he thought he could make out the shape of a shoeprint on the earth.
The dog’s nose twitched as he memorized the scent.
The trail seemed to lead vaguely in the direction the Imp had pointed at, and the hound found himself recalling the tunnels under the human settlement where he had come across her. There was something ironic regarding the idea that humans had built their dwellings around the artefacts meant to herald the end of their world.
The dog let out a heavy breath through his nose. “You may have the truth of it,” he called out to the woman. “Now follow.”
Fenn set out at a brisk pace, scent held fixed in his mind. Catching up to the snake would require some haste, and the dog was reluctant to let others steal his prize. Lily followed behind him, content to let him have the lead for the time being.
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