Selvryn waited at the summit of the Mother Tree, perched upon a colossal branch whose thickness could easily rival that of a fortress rampart. She had been there for hours, her back resting against the ancient wood and her gaze fixed upon the horizon of the valley.
The view from there was absolute. She could make out the zigzagging movements of the herds, the watchful stance of the hunters, and the tightly packed masses of herbivores seeking shelter around their fires.
And, at last, she witnessed the charge.
She followed the sequence step by step. The Leontaris breaking through the front, the packs of hyenas filtering in through the flanks, and the runners waiting for the herds to scatter along the edges.
This was no longer a blind pack lashing out at random.
They had learned the terrain.
Selvryn dug her nails into the bark. Below, a calf stumbled while seeking the shelter of its mother's shadow, just as a silhouette emerged from the mist. The mother turned to place herself between them.
The elf rose instantly, tension coursing through her back.
But before she could make a move, a wall of buffalo horns closed over the breach, shielding the calf from the predator's sight.
She sat down again, slowly exhaling.
The pang of dissatisfaction surfaced almost immediately. It irritated her that she had come so close to intervening.
Not because of some compassionate impulse toward the newcomers, but because she hated realizing just how much she was beginning to care about what happened to them.
The wind atop the summit stirred strands of her hair.
"This is getting complicated..."
Lusian left the room shortly afterward. Inside, Elizabeth remained lost in a deep sleep; the preceding hours had drained every last ounce of her strength.
Selvryn was waiting outside.
When she saw him approaching, her eyes instinctively dropped toward his neck. The faint marks were still there.
Her expression hardened slightly.
"What happened?"
Lusian brushed his fingertips over the marks, dismissing them with a vague gesture.
"Minor things."
"They don't look minor."
"I'll survive."
Selvryn scrutinized him for several seconds, her arms crossed.
"You always resort to that phrase."
Lusian offered a restrained smile.
"It tends to be accurate."
A dry snort was the elf's only response before she pointed toward the vast expanse of the savanna.
"The situation down there has gotten worse."
Lusian followed the direction of her hand.
"That was to be expected."
"The carnivores have stopped hunting blindly. They're coordinating."
"Yes."
"They're learning the lesson."
Lusian remained silent, weighing the shadowed valley with his eyes.
Selvryn clenched her fists.
"And the flow isn't going to stop. Kill them all."
Lusian slowly turned his head toward her.
"All of them?"
"Every last one."
"We're talking about a tide."
"Then it'll take you a little longer."
Lusian let out a short laugh, without a trace of mockery.
Selvryn remained completely serious.
"I'm being completely serious, Lusian."
"I know."
She turned her gaze back toward the plains.
"If you don't stop them, they'll eventually reach the forest's borders."
"I know."
"And the day they set foot in the forest..."
"We'll stop them."
Selvryn faced him.
"When, exactly?"
Lusian let several seconds pass before fixing his gaze on the horizon.
"The precise moment it becomes necessary."
"Your answer is always to wait."
"And yours is to destroy everything in sight."
"It has the advantage of being efficient."
Lusian glanced sideways at her.
"It also has the disadvantage of leaving you with a longer list of enemies."
The elf fell silent.
Lusian continued in an even voice:
"The herbivores came up here because they were drawn by the vegetation. The carnivores followed them in search of sustenance." He gestured toward the massive mountain. "The Tree has restructured the savanna's food chain. We can't simply exterminate every creature that reacts to that transformation."
Selvryn slowly lowered her head.
"What's your alternative?"
"First, we'll determine just how far they're willing to push."
"And if they cross the line?"
A faint smile appeared on Lusian's face.
"Then they'll find themselves facing a serious problem."
Selvryn held his gaze for several moments.
"You're far too confident."
"And you're far too bloodthirsty."
"I'm not bloodthirsty."
Lusian raised an eyebrow without answering.
Selvryn maintained the stare for several seconds before finally turning her face toward the void.
"...Fine," she admitted quietly. "Maybe a little."
Lusian smiled.
For the briefest of moments, the heaviness in the air between them seemed to ease.
However, below, across the vastness of the savanna, a new contingent had begun advancing through the clouds of dust.
And this time, their path was not directed toward the settlements' palisades.
They were heading straight for the mountainside.