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Mission Four, Part Eleven of Ten (Epilogue)

Mission Four Start ~Previous ~Next

I just wanted to draw the fabulous Devonshire again
woo

---

Nye stormed into the undergrowth after Syrren, furious that she’d tried to get herself killed. She must surely be as worn out as he was, at least. Even at full strength, he knew she didn’t have the power to stand up to that brute. Why was she being so stubborn? Usually that was his job, and he didn’t like being served his own medicine this way.

Zooka, hanging tightly onto Nye’s short fur, was still breathing rapidly and unevenly. Why had Syrren left him like that? Why had he been forced to accept this charity from Nye, who he hated so much, and who shared that animosity in return? This was so confusing. He’d done exactly what Syrren and Devonshire had told him, he’d got the cello. So why was she ignoring him?

He felt woozy. That was more effort than he’d ever had to expend in one go. He was finding it hard to hold on to Nye’s back; the short fur was not ideal as a handhold for Zooka’s stubby digits.

“Nye!” he squeaked rather pathetically, as he lost his grip and his balance. He slid down off the Vulpix’s back and landed face first in the leaf litter, the Draconicello still strapped to his back, holding him where he fell.

“Syrren! Stop!” Nye yelled ahead, but his words were ignored.

“Nye! I can’t get up!” Zooka would usually be more than able to free himself, however he felt on the verge of fainting. He wouldn’t be begging for help from Nye if he didn’t feel legitimately in danger. These woods were crawling with dragons, and the ones they’d just encountered had already tried to eat him. As evil as Nye was, he was at least not going to eat him.

Nye shouted after Syrren a few more times. It was evident she wasn’t going to stop, she would have already.

“I’ll be back, fluffball.”

“What? No! Don’t, I can’t move!”

“Just stay here. She’ll be back with me soon.” And with that, he turned and ran after Syrren.

“Nye! You moron!” His insults trailed off as he resigned himself to this. He still couldn’t believe Syrren would do this, but it wasn’t at all surprising that Nye would abandon him. He sighed.

“Well, there you are. It seems you were successful after all! Quite the surprise.”

Zooka flinched. It was Devonshire, clearly. He didn’t like Devonshire, though, especially after seeing some of that battle with Tivoli before.

“Hm? Your team, where’d the other two go? Irresponsible of them, leaving this cello unguarded like this.”

“Syrren abandoned me, and Nye left me when I fell.” He felt pathetic. “I can’t even get up, this thing is so heavy.”

Devonshire snapped the rope that Zooka had been using as a strap, and effortlessly removed the cello from Zooka’s back as if it weighed no more than a feather. He inspected the instrument closely.

“Well, it’s a little scuffed, no doubt you did not escape without incident. But it is clearly the genuine article.”

Free of his cargo/prison, Zooka slowly sat up. He was still very short of breath.

“Take that thing, then. I’m going to find them.”

“I’m not certain that’s advisable. You should hide yourself and await their return. The dragons are still here, and still hungry.” Devonshire’s grin at this was rather unsettling. “Do as you will, but do not blame me for your own foolishness.”

Description

Mission Four, Part Eleven of Ten (Epilogue)

Mission Four Start ~Previous ~Next

I just wanted to draw the fabulous Devonshire again
woo

---

Nye stormed into the undergrowth after Syrren, furious that she’d tried to get herself killed. She must surely be as worn out as he was, at least. Even at full strength, he knew she didn’t have the power to stand up to that brute. Why was she being so stubborn? Usually that was his job, and he didn’t like being served his own medicine this way.

Zooka, hanging tightly onto Nye’s short fur, was still breathing rapidly and unevenly. Why had Syrren left him like that? Why had he been forced to accept this charity from Nye, who he hated so much, and who shared that animosity in return? This was so confusing. He’d done exactly what Syrren and Devonshire had told him, he’d got the cello. So why was she ignoring him?

He felt woozy. That was more effort than he’d ever had to expend in one go. He was finding it hard to hold on to Nye’s back; the short fur was not ideal as a handhold for Zooka’s stubby digits.

“Nye!” he squeaked rather pathetically, as he lost his grip and his balance. He slid down off the Vulpix’s back and landed face first in the leaf litter, the Draconicello still strapped to his back, holding him where he fell.

“Syrren! Stop!” Nye yelled ahead, but his words were ignored.

“Nye! I can’t get up!” Zooka would usually be more than able to free himself, however he felt on the verge of fainting. He wouldn’t be begging for help from Nye if he didn’t feel legitimately in danger. These woods were crawling with dragons, and the ones they’d just encountered had already tried to eat him. As evil as Nye was, he was at least not going to eat him.

Nye shouted after Syrren a few more times. It was evident she wasn’t going to stop, she would have already.

“I’ll be back, fluffball.”

“What? No! Don’t, I can’t move!”

“Just stay here. She’ll be back with me soon.” And with that, he turned and ran after Syrren.

“Nye! You moron!” His insults trailed off as he resigned himself to this. He still couldn’t believe Syrren would do this, but it wasn’t at all surprising that Nye would abandon him. He sighed.

“Well, there you are. It seems you were successful after all! Quite the surprise.”

Zooka flinched. It was Devonshire, clearly. He didn’t like Devonshire, though, especially after seeing some of that battle with Tivoli before.

“Hm? Your team, where’d the other two go? Irresponsible of them, leaving this cello unguarded like this.”

“Syrren abandoned me, and Nye left me when I fell.” He felt pathetic. “I can’t even get up, this thing is so heavy.”

Devonshire snapped the rope that Zooka had been using as a strap, and effortlessly removed the cello from Zooka’s back as if it weighed no more than a feather. He inspected the instrument closely.

“Well, it’s a little scuffed, no doubt you did not escape without incident. But it is clearly the genuine article.”

Free of his cargo/prison, Zooka slowly sat up. He was still very short of breath.

“Take that thing, then. I’m going to find them.”

“I’m not certain that’s advisable. You should hide yourself and await their return. The dragons are still here, and still hungry.” Devonshire’s grin at this was rather unsettling. “Do as you will, but do not blame me for your own foolishness.”