The children had stumbled upon the body of the unfortunate ranger. Caoimhe had howled and sat down on her haunches, whimpering, and clearly not wanting to pursue the matter any further. Prey was one thing, but dead things were quite another, and something that she detested. She was one canine that would never soil her coat with carrion! Meanwhile, Clarissant and Ciaran debated the merits of continuing to follow after the Sidhe woman and the archer, in hopes of coming across the man with the giant arm. He was the current object of Clarissant's obsession.

"It would be a grand adventure," Clarissant had said, laying one finger aside her nose as she had pondered the possibilities. "Although I don't think Caoimhe much wants to go. What's the matter?" she continued, looking at her friend. "I thought you liked hunting?"

The hound dropped to her belly and crossed her paws over her nose. Silver eyes traveled skyward, in the manner of a great sage considering unfathomable mysteries.

"I think she's ignoring us," Ciaran said, wearing a slight frown. He didn't want Caoimhe to be upset, but a part of him didn't really want to return to Tara and the disapproving stare of his father's Master Steward. "You don't have to go, if you don't want to," he said, trying to make her feel better.

But his attempt to be reassuring only made her ears droop. She knew that if she didn't use her cu sidhe senses to help her friends, then they would likely never find the pair again. Caoimhe didn't want to disappoint her friends, so she gathered her courage and got to her feet. She ran a ways down the path and wheeled about, barking to encourage them to follow her. With a pair of matched eager grins, Clarissant and Ciaran set off in the direction that she led them. They left the road, just before another party passed by.

Though the Sidhe woman and her archer had long since ridden out of sight, the cu sidhe had no problems discerning the direction of their progress, despite their attempts to disguise their trail. Soon, more scents came to her nose. The pair was joined by four more people; one of them was bleeding. The bleeding one carried with him traces of the dead one, and Caoimhe could guess what had happened. She would look back over one furry shoulder every so often to make sure her friends were all right. In the back of her mind, she was wondering if this little expedition of theirs was such a fine idea after all.

Despite her gangling gait, the great dog could move in near silence, and she trailed after her quarry to where they went to ground inside a moss and bramble shrouded cave. While the children watched from the shadows, Baine and Wintermist came out of their shelter. Caoimhe only knew Baine as the Lucky Charm Lady, although, the way her aura was now, she was anything but charming. I think she wouldn't be nice to us anymore, the little girl in hound's clothing thought, as she watched the two women move away into the woods. Curious, Clarissant motioned to her companions to follow.

Ever curious, the children huddled out of sight, watching the two women, who spoke in low tones as they moved about, gathering plants. Snatched of conversation reached the sharp ears of the little spies. They head Baine's voice say, "In case you didn't know, you are the greenwood wife of a man with a price on his head. Welcome to the outcast band of Magh Croimor! Now - let's have a look at Nion's ear, or what's left of it."

"Outlaws! They're outlaws! And somebody may be missing an ear!" Clarissant whispered, hearing Baine's words. This was shaping up to be an exciting adventure. I can't wait to tell Balwee and Morai Abhlach about this when I return to Emhain Abhlach, she thought. "I wonder what they did to be called outlaws?"

"They probably killed someone, or stole some cattle, or a combination thereof. It matters not to me," Ciaran replied with a shrug. "I don't see why we should be concerned about the affairs of Milesians anyway…"

He would have said more, but a sudden rumble of thunder interrupted his words. Three pairs of eyes looked up to find the sky hiding herself behind billowing veils of grey. It looked like they were in for a terrific storm.

"I fear we shall soon find ourselves soaked, without proper shelter," said the Sidhe boy with a frown.

And indeed, he was correct, for soon it began to rain in earnest. The drops fell thick and fast, worming their way through the curtain of leaves and brambles to pound down on the heads of the children. Caoimhe's ears drooped; she didn't enjoy being wet at all! The black dog turned her body, so that the rain drops would glance off her coat. Beside her Clarissant and Ciaran huddled together, trying to stay as dry as they could.

Instead of going inside the cave, the Sidhe woman began to shed her clothes like an oak in the fall, and headed towards the bank of the river. Caoimhe cocked her head, as she watched, wondering what was the cause of such strange behavior. Wasn't she getting wet enough from the rain? Why was she trying to take a bath instead of seeking shelter? Given a choice, the little Sidhe girl would much rather be someplace warm and dry!

Thinking of her friends getting wetter by the minute, the wolfhound made a choice. She carefully crept forward, towards Wintermist, who was busy rescuing her toad and looking for her clothes. Though the woman had yelled at them earlier, she had given them candy. Anyone who would try and take care of a warty little toad must like animals a great deal. Ourlaw or not, in Caoimhe's mind, anyone who liked animals couldn't be that bad of a person. If she liked the toad, maybe she liked children too?

A flash of lightening illuminated the shadows and, for the space of a heartbeat, the sillouette of the great black dog was clearly visble; her silver eyes were shining like quicksilver. She poked her head out of the shadows and looked up at Wintermist and Toad, wearing a cautious, yet curious expression on her furry face, wondering if the Sidhe woman would take pity on them and help them find a dry place, or just fuss at them some more...