World On Fire: Operation Pathfinder

[Sonitusia]

✠

From the look the mechanic, there was no question she was jealous of her power. The narrowed eyes and puffed cheeks suggested a grim childishness and pride in her skill, and for Astrid, Luisa's magic was akin to cheating. But Heinrich's orders were set in stone, and Luisa saved her the trouble. That did not mean, however, that she should stomach her 'arrogance'. Turning her head away, she grunted, "have fun."

Now all they need was munitions.

"Astrid, I could actually use some help," she said, detaching a magazine from the AT gun, "I've never fired the 10.5cm before, the only German cannons I've ever touched are from the 20mm to 75mm caliber. So I practically have no idea what the rounds of the leFH 18 look like, and that defeats the very point of me trying to load the gun inside."

She took out a single round from the magazine, then with a bit of concentration, it began to expand in her hand, until eventually it looked exactly like a Panzergranate 38 HL/B. The same shells she had struggled with to try and eliminate as many Soviet tanks as possible. "As you can see, I can possibly turn these little bullets into high explosive munitions for the SPG, but I need to see one of the 10.5cm rounds first. Obviously, we have none, and I'm not asking you to run out and risk your life to find it. I just expect that someone who's just as capable as me can give an exact description of the rounds needed."

Luisa's tone showed no pride, she just enjoyed a bit of competition every once in awhile. Healthy competition of course, not to see who died first. All that she cared about right now was completing the task at hand. And knowing that Astrid would have extensive knowledge on Deutsch equipment, she should be up for the job. Please just help me out here...

[Wolfenium]

✠

✠

From the look the mechanic, there was no question she was jealous of her power. The narrowed eyes and puffed cheeks suggested a grim childishness and pride in her skill, and for Astrid, Luisa's magic was akin to cheating. But Heinrich's orders were set in stone, and Luisa saved her the trouble. That did not mean, however, that she should stomach her 'arrogance'. Turning her head away, she grunted, "have fun."

Now all they need was munitions.

"Astrid, I could actually use some help," she said, detaching a magazine from the AT gun, "I've never fired the 10.5cm before, the only German cannons I've ever touched are from the 20mm to 75mm caliber. So I practically have no idea what the rounds of the leFH 18 look like, and that defeats the very point of me trying to load the gun inside."

She took out a single round from the magazine, then with a bit of concentration, it began to expand in her hand, until eventually it looked exactly like a Panzergranate 38 HL/B. The same shells she had struggled with to try and eliminate as many Soviet tanks as possible. "As you can see, I can possibly turn these little bullets into high explosive munitions for the SPG, but I need to see one of the 10.5cm rounds first. Obviously, we have none, and I'm not asking you to run out and risk your life to find it. I just expect that someone who's just as capable as me can give an exact description of the rounds needed."

Luisa's tone showed no pride, she just enjoyed a bit of competition every once in awhile. Healthy competition of course, not to see who died first. All that she cared about right now was completing the task at hand. And knowing that Astrid would have extensive knowledge on Deutsch equipment, she should be up for the job. Please just help me out here...

Pausing as she prepared to get back to work, Astrid was not sure if she really needed help or was just was pitying her. For the moment, there was no reason to suspect the latter. Glaring down at the bullets, she had no reason to doubt her abilities. Her work on the FT proved as much.

"You shouldn't be wasting your energy like that," she stated professionally, trying to put her condescension aside, "I know it's nifty, but magic should be reserved for things modern technology cannot substitute for. You'll burn out if you keep using it too much. Worse, it attracts the SS. They won't let up harassing us if they knew we're this good. Besides," she clarified, picking up one of the rounds. "the more HE you make for the SPG, the less bullets we have to shoot at infantry. Rather than waste your breath, let logistics get the rounds for us. They're slow, but they're not useless. If not, just make some fresh. There're some shells left from the front for the 10.5 cm, and some gunpowder and propellant salvaged from the depot. If you want, I'll... help you put the rounds together."

Astrid may be petty, but she was not unreasonable. If only to avoid getting an earful from Heinrich, she would help Luisa with the job.

[Sonitusia]

✠

"You shouldn't be wasting your energy like that," she stated professionally, trying to put her condescension aside, "I know it's nifty, but magic should be reserved for things modern technology cannot substitute for. You'll burn out if you keep using it too much. Worse, it attracts the SS. They won't let up harassing us if they knew we're this good. Besides," she clarified, picking up one of the rounds. "the more HE you make for the SPG, the less bullets we have to shoot at infantry. Rather than waste your breath, let logistics get the rounds for us. They're slow, but they're not useless. If not, just make some fresh. There're some shells left from the front for the 10.5 cm, and some gunpowder and propellant salvaged from the depot. If you want, I'll... help you put the rounds together."

Astrid may be petty, but she was not unreasonable. If only to avoid getting an earful from Heinrich, she would help Luisa with the job.

"Duly noted," Luisa replied, though with a small tease, she added, "Though have you seen the Semovente 75's? They're an Italian Army miracle for a reason."

She shrunk the 75mm back into its original round, and pushed the bullet back into place, patting her hands together as she looked around for the shells. "We better get started quickly, we never know how slow our shipment will arrive, and hell would be a better idea than getting a mouthful for not having rounds prepared. And I don't even believe in hell." She detached one of her SMGs slings, hooking it to the Panzerbuesche 41 and putting the smaller weapon aside. Looking left and right, she finally asked, "Where are those shells?"

[Minroz]

Geier
Warehouse
✠ Aron Groebbel

A quick look at the mob assembling and Heinrich was already having mixed thoughts. On one hand, he should probably count himself fortunate to have gotten soldiers at all, after the campaigns in Russia whittled down his already small battalion of two thousand to a pathetic dozen or so. With priority for recruitment of magic users given to the SS, Heinrich would have to work with the residue, most of whom were not even users. Even then, it was better than nothing, particularly for the Afro-Germans and Slavs who, at this moment, faced the same compromising laws that demoted them to second class citizens, if citizens at all.

On the other, these very same people would have a lot of reason to defect at the first opportunity. The prospect that they could be treated better by the Allies would have been too tempting, and Heinrich himself did not have much to offer in response. In any respect, putting them in a fighting role against the Western Allies or even the Soviets entailed preparing for massive desertions. It was already hard enough for him to keep his previous mass of rabble together. He had no idea if he could hold together this one.

"So OKW gave us Askaris and Ustashas," grunted Heinrich, "I hope you know what you're doing."

“Jawohl, mein Kommandant. I’ll do whatever I can to bring the squads together into order.” Aron replied with his salute. Helmut does the same. The two officers eventually left the colonel alone to attend to their duties as NCOs in managing the Geier troops, or whatever their current numbers available. These two NCOs shared the reservations of their commander in regards to the recruits’ racial backgrounds. Nevertheless, it’s not their place to decide or complain, they have a job to do even this job is not better standards like the rest of the wehrmacht.

Turning to the assembled recruits, Aron dismissed the group and ordered them to prepare for the upcoming mission not after giving them a speech of stern warnings for breaching military protocols. In other words, he expected the recruits to behaved like real soldiers of the wehrmacht, regardless of their origins. Eventually, the recruits disassembled and were left to their own devices, choosing to hang out with respective ethnic cliques.

“God Almighty, this is going take a long day before we know it all burns to hell.” Helmut muttered out his complaint at more ‘work’.

“Well, Schmidt. This is what we officers are here for, making sure everything in the army doesn’t become the mess.” Aron said to his adjutant. “We’ve lost a lot of good men back in Russia. Let’s make sure it’s not repeated. Alright, see with the preparations, I want to get everything ready before we get the word on mobilization.”

“Jawohl, herr major.” The redhead responded with his salute. Watching Helmut left, Aron made a brief sigh and adjusted his hat. He decided to have a short walk around the hangar to take the mind off the few things.

✠

"You shouldn't be wasting your energy like that," she stated professionally, trying to put her condescension aside, "I know it's nifty, but magic should be reserved for things modern technology cannot substitute for. You'll burn out if you keep using it too much. Worse, it attracts the SS. They won't let up harassing us if they knew we're this good. Besides," she clarified, picking up one of the rounds. "the more HE you make for the SPG, the less bullets we have to shoot at infantry. Rather than waste your breath, let logistics get the rounds for us. They're slow, but they're not useless. If not, just make some fresh. There're some shells left from the front for the 10.5 cm, and some gunpowder and propellant salvaged from the depot. If you want, I'll... help you put the rounds together."

Astrid may be petty, but she was not unreasonable. If only to avoid getting an earful from Heinrich, she would help Luisa with the job.

"Duly noted," Luisa replied, though with a small tease, she added, "Though have you seen the Semovente 75's? They're an Italian Army miracle for a reason."

She shrunk the 75mm back into its original round, and pushed the bullet back into place, patting her hands together as she looked around for the shells. "We better get started quickly, we never know how slow our shipment will arrive, and hell would be a better idea than getting a mouthful for not having rounds prepared. And I don't even believe in hell." She detached one of her SMGs slings, hooking it to the Panzerbuesche 41 and putting the smaller weapon aside. Looking left and right, she finally asked, "Where are those shells?"

Noticing the girls, he can tell they’re still discussing over something related to weapons. Aron is guessing it’s something to do with tank earlier. Although he does admit the vehicle resembled like a bathtub before Luisa changed it, he just kept the thoughts to himself. With nothing to do at the moment, the blonde man decided to see if he can assists the little Bergmann and Luisa.

“Perhaps I can help with it. What is did you need exactly, Luisa?” Aron spoke as he stepped up to the girls. Although the blonde Prussian, being raised in the aristocracy, he finds it strange to see females working in the frontlines as soldiers and mechanics beyond the role of medical and logistic staff. It’s not like he’s being a chauvinist, more like a new experience for him. In the end, Aron doesn’t mind women working in the military. Luisa is fine but his issue is only with Bergmann because he felt she and her sister is too young and too innocent to be in the war. Aron didn’t like children to be put into dangers. But there’s nothing he can do about it, since his superior officer allowed the girls into the Geier unit.

[Sonitusia]

✠

“Perhaps I can help with it. What is did you need exactly, Luisa?” Aron spoke as he stepped up to the girls.

Luisa saluted momentarily before nodding, looking around the area to see that there were shells, but practically not in any real order, and she didn't know how many were hiding. "Si, Hauptmann, I could use some help gathering the 10.5cm shells for our Sturmpanzer-FT over here," she said, pointing towards the improvised vehicle behind her, "I'm not sure how long we can hold out until logistics arrive, so we should load her up with as many rounds as we can before it's too late."

She picked up a shell that was nearby, placing it neatly in front of the SPG. "If you don't mind of course, sir."

[Occupied Deutschland]

Team Two, Ventilation Shaft

"Youngling," she whispered to Jannie, "you really must practice Colony flight more; if I did not know better I would think you did not even know something as basic as echolocation."

Jannie was careful to hold back the low-pitched growl of rage that rose in her chest at Carmen’s words. It simply would not do to be that transparent about her thoughts on the elder vampiress’ advice in front of man-cattle. Of course, the scathing look her single open eye shot at the Dona undoubtedly made her feelings on the matter abundantly clear.

She was not some progeny of Carmen’s to be looked down on and critiqued! But pointing that out as vehemently as she wanted to would likely be of little use. Keeping the other kindred’s seniority in mind, Jannie discarded the first few potential responses she came up with. All of them were too overly-emotional and argumentative. Still, silence was not an option. Unless she intended to give up any claim of equality with the elder vampire, she needed a response of some kind.

What right did the Republican-sympathizing New World vampire have in criticizing her for a minor difficulty? Particularly when she’d likely had assistance of her own in learning to master the technique? Jannie had been busy managing a Countship in Europe through the Great War, the Depression, and the collapse of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, not relaxing in some backwater hacienda in the nether regions of the world where nothing of any consequence ever happened. Nor had she been slaughtering clergymen in Spain in the name of ‘Republicanism’ as part of some misguided quest for man-cattle of despicable moral authority.

Jannie was quiet for a moment, briefly wondering whether it would be better to respond loudly to the criticism or merely whisper back. Both options presented their advantages. With an inner smugness, Jannie tilted her head at Carmen so the scars on the right side of her face were more visible.

“Dona, I am aware of my need to perfect Colony flight. I have been preoccupied of late and, alas, my depth perception is not what it once was due to recent events.” Jannie whispered.

Triomphe. Jannie thought loudly in the safety of her mind, holding the elder vampire's gaze for an instant. The response was probably too skewed to her appearance rather than any real facts of the situation. Jannie's eye had no effect on her control over the bats. But the verbal jab was too easy to pass up. There was little use in silently condoning the sniping at her difficulty from the other vampire, no matter how much older than herself Carmen was. Carmen wasn't of her own blood, after all. Jannie saw little reason to pander to the criticisms of what would in many other situations be a competitor instead of an ally.

Of course, the fact that Carmen was uncomfortably right didn't have any impact on her thinking. None whatsoever.

None.

"Really," Milena said, "I suppose we can add that to the growing list of complaints about why we should have just bagged that hook-nosed swine and went home. If we're going to worry about levelling the city by accident, we probably should just the Germans a favour and blow it up anyway."

Jannie had to admit she agreed with Milena’s sentiment, though she was somewhat surprised at the dark layer of contempt behind the words. Still, they had a job to do. It wouldn’t help to dwell on lost oppurtunities.

“Though I as well wish we had more seriously considered 'bagging' our Jewish…associate…Your ladyship, had we refused to placate this peculiar form of greed she has sent us out on she likely would never help the Allied war effort. You know how her kind can be. Perhaps this really is the better option in the long term." Jannie said without a trace of the contempt that had colored Milena’s voice. Raising one eyebrow at the girl, the vampiress shook her head in stoic amusement at the rather clever euphemism ‘bagging’ was for abduction.

After a moment, Jannie caught her eye lingering too-long on the man-calf's neck. Jannie hurriedly looked away and distracted herself by drawing her revolver. Opening the loading gate, she cycled the cylinder through a full revolution to be sure it was fully loaded. Satisfied—and distracted—she clicked the gate back shut and stuffed the revolver back into its holster at her side. Seven rounds and her sabre would be enough to see her through the rest of the evening. She didn't need a Drink.

The Countess was briefly thankful she hadn't been included on the same team as Beecher or one of the werewolves. They smelled so much sweeter.

[Wolfenium]

“Though I as well wish we had more seriously considered 'bagging' our Jewish…associate…Your ladyship, had we refused to placate this peculiar form of greed she has sent us out on she likely would never help the Allied war effort. You know how her kind can be. Perhaps this really is the better option in the long term." Jannie said without a trace of the contempt that had colored Milena’s voice. Raising one eyebrow at the girl, the vampiress shook her head in stoic amusement at the rather clever euphemism ‘bagging’ was for abduction.

Biting her lip, Milena found the reality of their predicament a bit hard to swallow. Was it even possible to win Heim's cooperation. From the very start of their meeting, Heim had made no effort to hide her contempt and duplicity, and for all intents and purposes, she might as well have guessed that Heim had foreseen deaths in the operation at a level that definitely required her to remain silent. How much they can hope to gain her trust through this was also suspect. People like her are difficult to win over. She would know. Heim's attitudes looked very ominously like her own.

"I hope so," was all she stated, backtracking from her otherwise hardline sarcasm as she started to hobble with her walking stick, "not something I would bank on these days, but seems better than despondence."

Now all they could do was wait for the signal.

---

Fluttering through the crammed, narrow chutes, the discreet, white downed dove continued its long flight through the arteries of the German facility, peeking through the grille as it looked out for guard movements. So far, none appeared to have noticed it, or at least did not consider it suspicious. The lack of magical presence was also helpful. At the very least, there was not anything that might discover its identity as a familiar.

But at the corner of the room, its large eyes soon spotted a strange presence atop some loading crates. It appeared like a white furred, buckteethed rabbit with blood red eyes. A passing guard, spotting the animal atop the crate, instinctively tried to shoo it away as it hopped off out of view. At first, it seemed little more than a stray animal to Simon, with barely a trace of magic from the creature. However, given Simon's own abilities to suppress its own aura, the potential for alarm quickly became evident.

---

Picking up Simon's relays, Anna began to feel a slight chill down her spine. The presence of the white rabbit in a heavily fortified tower was already strange enough. To hear her familiar question if it was a familiar was another issue entirely. Thinking over, the likelihood that the rabbit might be a familiar sent to spot intruders by her German master proved a well grounded fear.

"Simon said he spotted a small critter in one of the rooms," Anna relayed nervously, "he suspect that it might be an enemy familiar sent to look out for him. Shall I recall him?"

Anna began to fret for the little bird. If that were the case, the guards might most certainly be alerted, and the whole operation might be put at risk. However, the witch was not sure whether to pull him back now. Peering back, she seemed desperate for a better response. She did not want to be seen as cowardly if her guess was wrong.

[Occupied Deutschland]

"Simon said he spotted a small critter in one of the rooms," Anna relayed nervously, "he suspect that it might be an enemy familiar sent to look out for him. Shall I recall him?"

"Do as you see appropriate, Miss Cross. You have given me no reason to doubt you and are in much better position to judge your familiar's capabilities than myself. Even this much warning of a mage's familiar being present is useful." Jannie said. She tilted her head slightly and had to stop her right hand from rubbing at her eye. If it really was a Nazi's familiar looking for intruders, it could mean trouble. One of the other teams may have been detected already and the entire plot exposed-

Jannie mentally kicked herself for her stupidity. If such a thing had happened they would have known about it through the communication runes. This wasn't the age of line infantry anymore and she needed to remember that the information bottlenecks she would automatically account for in the past no longer existed. If one of the other teams had been caught, someone would have heard and mentioned it. Had she been thinking clearly at the time they were made she would have heard about such a thing.

At least that ruled out active discovery, unless Heim had seen fit to betray them to the Nazis in some manner. That was less than likely however. Despicable murderer she may be, but it at least held the advantage of documenting her hatreds. Which limited the possibilities of what a familiar might be doing in the Tower to much more palatable options. It was likely merely a witch on a routine assignment in the building. Like the infuriating guardsman who always made her display her identification in England, it was a regular security procedure. They still held the benefit of surprise.

"I am certain it shall not be much longer." Jannie said slightly quieter, her tongue prodding at canines behind her mouth.

[Wolfenium]

"Simon said he spotted a small critter in one of the rooms," Anna relayed nervously, "he suspect that it might be an enemy familiar sent to look out for him. Shall I recall him?"

"Do as you see appropriate, Miss Cross. You have given me no reason to doubt you and are in much better position to judge your familiar's capabilities than myself. Even this much warning of a mage's familiar being present is useful." Jannie said. She tilted her head slightly and had to stop her right hand from rubbing at her eye. If it really was a Nazi's familiar looking for intruders, it could mean trouble. One of the other teams may have been detected already and the entire plot exposed-

Jannie mentally kicked herself for her stupidity. If such a thing had happened they would have known about it through the communication runes. This wasn't the age of line infantry anymore and she needed to remember that the information bottlenecks she would automatically account for in the past no longer existed. If one of the other teams had been caught, someone would have heard and mentioned it. Had she been thinking clearly at the time they were made she would have heard about such a thing.

At least that ruled out active discovery, unless Heim had seen fit to betray them to the Nazis in some manner. That was less than likely however. Despicable murderer she may be, but it at least held the advantage of documenting her hatreds. Which limited the possibilities of what a familiar might be doing in the Tower to much more palatable options. It was likely merely a witch on a routine assignment in the building. Like the infuriating guardsman who always made her display her identification in England, it was a regular security procedure. They still held the benefit of surprise.

"I am certain it shall not be much longer." Jannie said slightly quieter, her tongue prodding at canines behind her mouth.

"A-Ah..." blurted the witch, feeling a bit unnerved by Jannie's attitude. For some reason, the vampire appeared somewhat discomforted, though it was hard for her to pinpoint why. That Jannie could hide her insecurities behind her facade so well was something of note. However, Anna herself believed in pure honesty as a pious folk. She felt the burden of Jannie's own lies and discretion might be weighing down on her, even more than Milena.

"Just to ask before we move on..." Anna quipped, "would healing... hurt you, Miss Waldstein?"

Raising an eyebrow, Milena was a bit surprised by the query. In all honesty, she never took that into account. Perhaps it was simply because Jannie could heal on her own that external help would not be required. Still, Anna looked a bit worried, and afraid to fumble if things went hot. More than likely, she had the strangest notion that healing magic could hurt vampires due to their deathlessness. At first, the lolita would have assumed she had seen the movies to get such warped ideas, but her background suggested otherwise, perhaps in literature instead.

[Occupied Deutschland]

"Just to ask before we move on..." Anna quipped, "would healing... hurt you, Miss Waldstein?"

Jannie began to hiss out a very clear answer. She hesitated. Forcing the hand that had just begun to rise towards her eye-socket back to its proper place at her side, she bullied past the obstinate fear in her own mind at the prospect of any magic being used on her as best she could. It was a worthwhile question, and the Anabaptist was merely doing her job in asking it. Hysterics at the mere idea would help nobody at the moment, would they?

Of course, the immediate and hysterical answer of 'Do not dare even try!' was more comforting than the truth. She didn't know. That was more frightening than the magic itself. Or perhaps it was why the magic was so frightening. How was she supposed to plan around something she did not—could not—comprehend?

The vampiress almost grinned as her discomfort morphed into humor. It was a question that applied to humans at times just as well as it did their magic, wasn’t it?

Jannie shook aside the errant thought and squeezed the right side of her face more tightly to suppress the itching.

“I am Countess von Waldstein if you will recall, Miss Cross.” The twitch in Jannie’s lip was either humor or anger, “Considering I have already been shot—multiple times—this evening and as yet suffer no ill effects, your own magical efforts would be better focused on those less indomitable of body, yes?”

Answering with a simple ‘I do not know’ would have exposed weakness. Reacting too strongly with fear would have exposed a flaw. For the first time in many years, Jannie had the feeling that reacting as she did was not entirely commendable either. But she was uncertain what the alternative was.

Was there even really an alternative for her?

[Wolfenium]

"Just to ask before we move on..." Anna quipped, "would healing... hurt you, Miss Waldstein?"

Jannie began to hiss out a very clear answer. She hesitated. Forcing the hand that had just begun to rise towards her eye-socket back to its proper place at her side, she bullied past the obstinate fear in her own mind at the prospect of any magic being used on her as best she could. It was a worthwhile question, and the Anabaptist was merely doing her job in asking it. Hysterics at the mere idea would help nobody at the moment, would they?

Of course, the immediate and hysterical answer of 'Do not dare even try!' was more comforting than the truth. She didn't know. That was more frightening than the magic itself. Or perhaps it was why the magic was so frightening. How was she supposed to plan around something she did not—could not—comprehend?

The vampiress almost grinned as her discomfort morphed into humor. It was a question that applied to humans at times just as well as it did their magic, wasn’t it?

Jannie shook aside the errant thought and squeezed the right side of her face more tightly to suppress the itching.

“I am Countess von Waldstein if you will recall, Miss Cross.” The twitch in Jannie’s lip was either humor or anger, “Considering I have already been shot—multiple times—this evening and as yet suffer no ill effects, your own magical efforts would be better focused on those less indomitable of body, yes?”

Answering with a simple ‘I do not know’ would have exposed weakness. Reacting too strongly with fear would have exposed a flaw. For the first time in many years, Jannie had the feeling that reacting as she did was not entirely commendable either. But she was uncertain what the alternative was.

Was there even really an alternative for her?

Anna, sadly, was if anything, simple. Her shifting eyes and discomfort showed clearly just how little she understood about subtleties. For honest folk like her, a simple 'yes' or 'no' was well and understood by her, and she was not one to judge the countess for a lack of willpower if she had admitted straightaway. But faced with a roundabout answer that required a more complex train of thought, the witch was clearly a bit confused. It was as good as not answering at all, and she had no idea what she meant at all.

"Even so," she tried to reply, "if anything were to happen, I need to know if I can use healing spells on you. I wouldn't want to hurt you by accident, much less kill you. I mean, we're dealing with people who has as much skill in the occult as us. If any... anyone hurt you in a way that you can't properly recover from, I wouldn't know how to help you."

Fortunately, however, someone did understood.

"Best not to try, Cross," Milena stated calmly, her eyes scanning the countess for any sign of worry, "not for now. If the countess needs help, she'll ask for it. We don't know what might happen if we try. The wrong prescription to a patient could be as fatal as the disease itself."

"Ah..." blurted the hapless medic, still unable to shake off her fears for Jannie, "I suppose so... Maybe we'll figure that out when we get back."

Milena, on her part, could tell. Jannie, if anything, was prideful, a trait she herself possessed as a person of noble blood. But while she had fallen so low that she had become accustomed to the mannerisms of peasants, Jannie appeared detached from the lower classes, likely one harbouring a contempt for lowborns that had long become outdated. It was a source of discomfort she had trouble hiding, particularly given the fractious nature of Shadowcom at this juncture. At the very least though, she hoped to help her get over her anxiety. It was the least she could do.

"Ah, your bird is back," Milena said, as the white ball of feathers returned to Anna's outstretched arm. Looking at the face of the seemingly dim-witted animal, she found it hard to tell what it was feeling. Anna's serious expression, however, seem to have answered her suspicions. This was going to be a lot harder than they anticipated, and for good reason...