Feathers and Knives

[3]

Ren the King lounged on his throne, making idle conversation with his trusted advisor and friend, Bdubs. It had been a very uneventful day, and he had only his normal kingly duties which bored him to no end.

So it was a welcome change for one of his guards, a captain by the name of Cleo, to enter his throne room bearing news. "Apologies, my King; under normal circumstances I would not bring such seemingly trivial information as this to you but..." they hesitated, and Bdubs urged her to continue. "I was recently in a small town to the south, and I came across an interesting rumor: a shapeshifter, one who could change from dragon to 'human' by will. Of course, at first, I wrote it off as just that— a rumor. But I became intrigued and did some digging on my own... It appears to me to be truth, sire."

At this, the King leaned forward in his throne, clearly interested. "A shapeshifter, you say? A dragon who can hide among us, free to wreak havoc yet appearing invisible to us..." He rubbed a hand across his chin, mussing his goatee, appearing deep in thought with furrowed eyebrows. "Sire, if I may..." Bdubs began, looking to his king for permission to continue. Receiving a nod, he went on:

"This shapeshifter could turn out to be a huge danger to the kingdom, and your subjects. I would suggest... Perhaps we should turn extra attention towards capturing this creature?" The king took a moment to deliberate, then took up a piece of parchment and a quill to write something down. Once it was written he rolled it up and sealed it with red wax, handing it to Cleo with the instructions:

"Deliver this to the nearest hunter outpost to the town you first heard this rumor from." Cleo bowed, and then they hurried off.

———
(Two days later)

It wasn't often that Impulse called a meeting; there weren't too many hunters, so news spread quickly through word of mouth more often than by an announcement. So, Mumbo thought, it must be a very important announcement, or else an important job, for Impulse to leave notes stuck to everyone's door reading: "IMPORTANT! (Mandatory) Group meeting tonight after dinner. Please be there!" Mumbo took the note, folded it, and tucked it in his pocket. He was, of course, curious as to what it was all about but his thoughts were more focused on the man he was currently keeping in his cabin, and therefore a layer of nervousness and tension laid underneath that curiosity.

Mumbo had also recently had a chance to think more about what he was really doing. It seemed this shapeshifter had provided plenty of opportunities to have crises about his job— enough that by this point Mumbo had begun avoiding jobs altogether, volunteering for mundane chores and errands in lieu of having to go out and hunt.

Despite all this on his mind he decided he might as well do something useful, since the meeting wasn't until later and a supply run into town was in order now that someone was going to be living full-time (for a while, at least) in his cabin.

The town — more of a village, really — had a couple houses scattered along the edges, with a town square and open-air market in the middle. The market sold normal things like produce, meat, clothing, etc.; all practical items. Mumbo was familiar with most of the people there, especially Iskall (one of the farmers), False (who acted as the sole constable, not that one was really needed), and Xisuma (shepherd; he sold wool and basic clothing).

There were also the 'Hermits', as they were referred to, the more solitary residents of the outskirts of the town. Among them were Zedaph, who was very affable and who always could introduce a fascinating conversation topic, and a rather secretive — though very friendly — man named Scar. Scar lived in the outermost house with his cat, Jellie, who was a village favorite. He was very mysterious to the other residents despite always being very bubbly and amiable; no one knew anything about him other than nondescript facts: his favorite color (orange), he loves cats, hates snakes, etc. Nobody knew if he had family, nobody knew of any close friends, what he did in his free time, anything. It always seemed strange to anybody who thought about it too hard; how could somebody so nice be such a complete mystery to all who "knew" him?