When the company arrives in sight of History, it has been two days since Gole’s departure, and the sun is beginning its descent towards sunset. Erve walks slower than usual, her back laden with burdens of an extra person and the same amount of supplies. Gutu trots beside the horse cheerfully, with his three riders astride his back, the doub girl covered with a blanket so as not to draw any unnecessary attention. As they approach the town, the town master rides down the road on a golden horse to meet the adventurers, and Poole glances around at his comrades seriously and says,

“There’s a wizard here that I need to speak with. He is very intelligent, and he might be able to help us locate a bonny lily.”

The town master arrives on his horse and quickly dismounts his golden horse to rush over to the tired Erve,

“Erve! It’s so good to see you!” He greets as he lovingly strokes the exhausted horse’s nose, while the golden horse behind him studies the adventurers intelligently.

“Your great alterna arrived late yesterday and informed me of your expected arrival. She requested the use of several bows and a place to shoot them. Have you done a lot of fighting?” The town master inquires, and Trouse’s eyes widen in surprise while a wave of astonishment passes over the group, besides the doub girl, who snoozes silently on Gutu’s back.

“Where is Gole?” Trouse begs, and the man furrows his eyebrows,

“Why in the armory, of course.”

Trouse leaps off of Erve’s back and kneels before the rem town master,

“If you would please take me to the armory, I would be eternally grateful,” he says earnestly, and the rem man blinks in shock,

“Well, urhm- Yes. Yes, I will take you to the armory. And for the rest of you, I shall have someone lead you to the feast!” He exclaims grandly as he recovers from his surprise and remounts his golden horse.

Erve follows behind the golden-colored horse, and as Gutu passes beside Trouse, who’s still standing on the road, Thigi leans off of the dog and pulls Trouse up onto Gutu’s back behind her. The golden horse leads the travelers into the town, which is bustling with busy rems carrying wood and trays of uncooked meat about. The town master points to a rem girl with curly brown hair peering out from an alley, watching the adventurers in wonder,

“You there! You will show these adventurers to the feasting grounds.” He commands, and the girl’s eyes light up as she races in front of Erve and motions for the group to follow her.

The town master then dismounts his horse and speaks to it in a language different from what he had spoken to Erve the first time Gole and Trouse had met him. The horse neighs, and then turns and clops down the busy stone street. The girl leads the group, minus Trouse, down the street, calling in a shrill voice to make way, and the town master turns to the doub. Motioning with his hand, the rem leads Trouse into the alley the girl had been standing in and stops in front of an overgrown bush at the back.

The rem pulls the bush back to reveal a hidden staircase leading up to a light-colored wooden door with a golden knob, and carefully alights the stairs with Trouse at his heels. The town master then coolly turns the golden knob and pushes the door in, revealing a dimly lit room with archery targets set up everywhere. In the center of the room towers Gole, standing on her hind legs and looking quite pleased.

“Took you long enough to show up. I was starting to think you guys got attacked or something,” she says smugly as the town master turns and leaves, hiding the stairway from sight once again behind the bush.

Trouse stands in the hallway in front of the open door silently, staring at the alterna, and she drops onto all four legs as she usually stands.

“Are you okay?” she asks worriedly, and Trouse crosses his arms against his chest tightly,

“You scared me! I thought you’d left us,” he says, his voice tight, and Gole looks away.

“I just needed a break. I don’t get along with the others so great, and they don’t like me either. So, I took off on my own for a bit, because if I’d taken you, they would have been sure to follow. And that shirt was uncomfortable,” she explains, and Trouse lets his shoulders drop.

“Maybe if you tried to be nice to them, they’d like you more. And Thigi and Onewe worked hard on that shirt!” he chides quietly, and Gole snorts.

“Yeah, I’ll just roll over like a dog and let them scratch my stomach,” she says sarcastically, and Trouse pinches his lips together in slight annoyance,

“I said be nice. That doesn’t mean changing who you are,” he says, and Gole shakes her head,

“You don’t get it. I’m the alterna. I’m the only alterna that has ever been outcast from the alterna race. It’s who I am, and I’m not going to change that just to be nice to people who don’t like me as I am.”

“And I’m the sane doub. I’m the only doub who’s sane in my entire race.”

“A reasonable point, but it’s still different. Do you want to learn archery? I’ll teach you,” Gole offers, changing the subject, and Trouse sighs,

“So long as you don’t run away again.”

“Never.” Gole promises, and Trouse steps through the open door, shutting it behind him.

“Okay,” he agrees, and the alterna stands back on her hind legs.

Gole unslings a metal, black bow off her back, rapidly notching an arrow and fires at a target tacked to the wall. The arrow hits the target directly in the center of the target, and Gole purrs in approval. Then she looks down at Trouse,

“I had to practice,” she admits, and Trouse smiles slightly,

“So much for not being very good.”

“Yeah, well… I found a bow that should be about your size.” Gole says as she reaches down gingerly with a large paw into a stack of variously colored arrows and pushes them away to reveal a fuzzy, charcoal-black bow.

“Wow. Are you sure the rem don’t mind if we use these? They seem really fancy.” Trouse says as he unsurely takes the bow, and Gole shrugs,

“Nah, they don’t use bows. The town master said these were confiscated from previous wars.”

“Wars with who?” Trouse asks curiously, and Gole grunts,

“I don’t know. Ask Professor Poole since he knows everything.”

“Oh, Gole.” Trouse scolds lightly.

“Oh, right, archery. Okay, so I’m not sure how this works for you creatures with thumbs, but- “