Shifters

Infiltration

A low pitched whistle hummed through the cave as violent gusts of wind tore through the open tunnel, flooding the entrance with a flurry of both dried and young leaves. Laying restlessly on the stony cot, Josh stared at the low hanging ceiling, unable to fall asleep. Even after several hours of rest, he still yearned to be trapped in the blissful embrace of sleep for just a little while longer. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans as the untimely, rising winds shattered any hopes of him falling asleep again. Tuning into the incessant drip which even the high winds could not suppress, Josh lay perfectly still as his thoughts shifted to their current predicament. It had been three days since their arrival in this primitively furnished cave, yet there was no sign of the reinforcements Herman had promised. Flipping onto his side, he faced his companion, who sat near the water purifying apparatus, busying himself with smoothening the broken wooden shaft into a proper handle. 

"They're not coming, are they?" Josh asked, "According to your calculations, they should've been here by now right?"

Herman paused his work as he looked up at Josh, eyes twitching as he struggled to disguise his mounting concern. Unable to answer the question truthfully, he returned his gaze to the handle, continuing his carving in silence. 

"That's what I thought," Josh said, flopping onto his back once more.

Not wanting to think about their situation any further, he closed his eyes, hoping the strange harmony between the water droplets and the whistling winds would somehow put him to sleep. As the howling winds slowly died down, Josh snapped awake as a distinct clopping sound resounded throughout the entire cave, disrupting the delicate rhythm . Sitting up, he looked over at Herman who was already on his feet, knife ready and waiting in hand. As the clopping sound drew closer, a voice neither had heard before shouted an indistinguishable command into the tunnel. Almost immediately, the noise began to retreat until it could no longer be heard. 

"What was that?" Josh whispered, "Could it be our reinforcements?"

Herman shook his head.

"What ever it was, that voice certainly sounded human," Herman replied, making his way towards the entrance, "Stay here!"

"No, I'm coming with you!" Josh protested, grabbing his arm.

"Ok but be quiet," Herman agreed hastily, not wanting to lose their target due to an avoidable argument. 

Following stealthily behind his companion, he paused as Herman surveyed the mouth of the tunnel before deeming it safe for them to exit. In doing so, Josh was instantly taken aback by the carnage that lay before him. The violent winds from earlier had laid waste to the land, bending the tall blades of grass to the earth, severing branches,  and even daring to uproot a few shrubs in its wake. Despite the hurricane-like aftermath, not a single drop of water could be seen falling from the overcast sky. As he mindlessly observed the natural destruction, Herman tackled him to the ground, motioning for him to quiet as he pointed off to one side. Following his gaze, Josh spotted the herd of goats he'd seen a few days prior from the other side of the gorge, trampling over the already battered grassy knolls. Amidst the frolicking goats stood two men dressed in animal skins, each carrying a long wooden staff with a curved tip at its upper end. Whilst the animals grazed, the pair conversed in low tones beneath an almost leafless tree. Using the fallen branches as cover, both Josh and Herman inched their way closer in the hopes that they could eavesdrop on the strangely-dressed men's conversation. Luckily, they did not have to move much further as the remaining winds ferried the men's voices to their hiding spot. As pieces of their conversation filtered through the breeze, Josh's ring suddenly began to vibrate steadily as he listened in. 

"-I don't understand, what is Vilan thinking?" one of the men asked, turning to his companion.

"I don't know Smearn," his companion replied, staring at the herd as they settled into the green pastures, "It's not our place to decide what happens to the prisoner."