Chloria tried to calm herself down, but the thunder above told her that her anxiety would not fade anytime soon.  Strange, she thought, how she could control certain aspects of this world, yet she was unable to contain her emotions that helped create it.  There was lightning and thunder to reflect her panic, but no rain because she was unable to produce the balance.  The seasons were all about balance.  Chloria could lose it if she was too focused on a feeling.

    She did not recognize her environment.  She never did.  It was always different too.  If Oylemanti was here, and perhaps even Forestwind, they would just say that the forest looked like any other forest.  Her brother may have the namesake of the vegetation, but he severely lacked the wisdom it represented.  And he was always too stubborn to learn.

    They could never understand her pain ... or her nightmares.

    The new breeze carried the news into her arched ears.  The intruder was here.  As she scampered off to battle, Chloria wished she had the ability to create her blue diamond rashas.  But for now she had to rely on her forest.

    The wind picked up as she felt his presence.  Blades of grass swayed frantically as the myriad of seasons crashed into them like rain.  Yet it was dry weather... but perhaps it would soon snow.

    Chloria smiled.  She missed the snow.

    But her thoughts on winter quickly vanished when she spotted her intruder.  He was trapped in one of her plants, swinging back and forth with the wind.  He tried to cut into it with his claws, but he would not be successful.  The blue feline spotted Chloria and panicked.

    "Gorian?" she said, "What are you doing here?"

    "I'm not sure," he responded, "I was walking along the path and this weed picked me off from the ground."

    "It's a jolly springvine; a variation of the pitcher plants you can find in the bogs near Meovanni.  These are much larger though, intended to eat small animals."

    "A jolly springvine?" Gorian smirked, "I'm not really a small animal though.  Do you mind letting me out?"

    "Why are you here, Gorian?" Chloria asked coolly.

    "I dunno.  I thought we could talk.  Anyway, you know I'm no threat to you."

    "How do I know you're not him?"

    "Who?"

    "The one who gives me nightmares," Chloria explained, "The one who invades my dreams every night and tortures me."

    "I'm not that kinda furre."

    "What's with your colours then?" she hissed, "Teal fur, blue hair?  You're not Gorian.  The one who's been attacking me looked like Mar too.  Except he had black hair and his face looked more - babyish."

    Chloria frowned as she continued, "I thought it was Mar when I had the dream that night in Slen.  I took it as a bad omen..."

    "And that's why you dumped him and ran off?" Gorian asked, "You did it because of a nightmare you had?  I didn't take you as a superstitious vamp hunter."

    "Its no coincidence that this furre haunts me in my dreams yet resembles Mar so well," she argued, "And these dreams started during our time in Slen."

    "And they continued for days after you left him?  If it were more than a coincidence, wouldn't the dreams have vanished after you stopped seeing Mar?"

    The wind calmed.  Chloria's thoughts were in the back of her mind.  Not even she knew what she was thinking.  There was just too much to take in and process.  But she was sure of one thing: something was happening.  Coincidence or not, someone was torturing her.

    "How is Mar?" she asked.

    "Confused, I think," Gorian replied, "We just found out that the vamps did not destroy Yrdnal.  My guess is, he's unsure about anything."

    "Of course they destroyed Yrdnal," Chloria snorted, "Who else could have?  Demons?  They can't work alone."

    "Why do you hate vamps so much?"

    From the back of her mind, memories seeped out.  In them, she relived the aftermath of the attacks.  She saw friends die and watched their relatives shrivel with fear until they were merely a reflection of death itself.  There was the burning smell too.  Chloria had always remembered the smell.

    "You obviously haven't seen what I've seen, Gorian," Chloria answered, "Furres infected with the vamps' disease; we had to burn them alive before others were infected.  Vamp blood pollutes the soil and destroy farmers' crops.  Each year is a harder struggle for them.  They have to die."

    "Don't you get paid for hunting them though?" Gorian asked.

    "I'd gladly kill them for free," she told him, "And sometimes I do.  But I have to make a living."

    "I don't think I can ever feel pleasure for killing a vamp," he mused, "But you'll continue to do so, won't you?"

    "We attack them at dawn," she continued, "Its Forestwind's plan to keep them from expanding to the north.  We take off their northernmost colony every year.  They're so stupid that they keep repopulating it... just to get slaughtered by us again and again.  Vamps were never very good with their brains, you know.  You'd think that living such a long time would develop a little intelligence -".

    "You're a lost cause," Gorian interrupted, "When we first met, I was fond of you.  We joked around, drank ginger ale, and trashed each other's colours.  I even thought you were pleasant company.  I suppose it was just a mask.  You think you know the vamps so well... you merely attack them.  You merely kill their elderly and dying and you call yourselves heroes for that.  How do you know how smart -".

    "I'm making this world a better -".

    "How do you know how smart they are?!" Gorian shouted, "You never see them outside of battle!  Your lust to slice off their heads with your fancy axe blinds you to who they are.  'Their blood pollutes the soil'?  That's ridiculous.  Which idiot told you that one?  Your brother?"

    "Be very careful, Gorian," Chloria hissed, "I may not have my fancy axes, but this is my dream and my plants can eat you whole.  And I assure you, they and myself would be very jolly with your bones."

    "No need," he replied, "I'm leaving.  Thanks for the chat."

    "You're 'leaving'?" she laughed, "You're a little trapped at the -".

    Gorian was gone, her springvine was empty.  Chloria blinked, trying to wipe the confusion from her head.  She wondered if that was really Gorian.  She was almost convinced it was.  His fur and hair colours were switched, just like a vamp.  And he was obviously a strong supporter of their lifestyle.  The furre of seasons stretched her jaw and silently added Gorian to her list of vamps that required elimination.

    The wind carried the news of her new presence.  This time it was the one she had been waiting for.  The poignant smell of mud smothered her as he appeared from the shadows.

    "Hello, my little tulip.  Were you waiting long for me?"

    "Lets get on with this, Land," she barked, "I have a battle to get to in the morning."

Chapter 37 can be found in my new site: Markliam's Tree Hut.

Chapter 38 is temporarily here.