...as one of the youngest Animas at the camp rushes through the inn to her.

"Yyrees!! The boars are painted! The boars are painted!! All of them! The council is massing!"

Her eyes flash and she unceremoniously drops Drago on the inn floor and rushes out the door.

In the center of the camp, there is a scurry of activity as weapons and armor are gathered. Still, anyone who sees Yyrees stalking through the hubub quickly scampers out of her path.

Instead of pulling aside the tent opening, she rips through it with a slash of her claws.

"Are you all mad?? You're going to war against...against gatherers?!?!"

A few of the Animas shift, but a grizzled snow leopard Animas decorated in gold and scarlet drapes sneers at her, "You were proven wrong, Animas. The scouts showed the boars were painted. They are obviously massing an attack and your 'gatherers' are a scouting party. Can you not admit it?"

She snarls and leaps in one bound to stand in front of the Animas, "Srel, the fact that as the head of the local exports you are standing for this...this act of war!...only serves to confirm my suspicions."

Yyrees smacks him across the face, drawing lines of blood across his white furred cheek.

Srel roars and leaps at her, "Filthy hybrid, you dare!!"

She pins him effortless to the wall, "You are not fit to lead this attack. Your judgment is clouded by human coin and cloth!" Yyrees hurls him across the tent and he skids across the dirt floor.

The others shrink away from her. "By my Authority as High Council Representative and Emissary of the Midland, I order you all not to make a single movement against the boar folk until they are properly investigated. Which it seems I shall have to do myself."

As she stalks from the tent, she almost runs into Kraklaw.

"I only just heard, they--"
"Yes, Kraklaw. They were. I have given them their orders. Please see that they are followed."

In no mood for friendly exchanges, she makes her way back into the inn.

"Door, give me some Wake."

A small dear Animas that had been serving in the inn reaches under the counter and tosses her a small vial.

She uncorks it and waves its astringent fumes under Drago's nose before pouring a load of it down his throat.

"Get up. We all have work to do."