He was including the wolves in his apology, even though he wasn’t sure if they understood him, or cared to hear his words.
“You have to understand that my people are afraid. Their fierce pride causes them to recognize the emotion as anything but fear. The sword seems to draw the dark creatures to it, and if one of them were to find you in the Elven Heart, then this evil might learn where the Elven Heart truly exists. To allow the dark creatures to know that place, is to doom my people. The Heart Tree is rooted there, and without the heart tree, we cannot survive. Its location must forever remain secret to all but us. I hope you understand.”
Mikahl didn’t, but he held his tongue. Hyden, however, lived in a village that was built to remain hidden from the kingdom men and other dangerous things. He sort of understood, and nodded his understanding to his elven friend. Grrr yawned with a curling tongue, as if Vaegon’s words meant absolutely nothing to him.
Vaegon was about to continue, but was saved from the embarrassing subject, by a nod, and a tiny little screaming sound.
“That’s an odd sounding bird,” Mikahl said, with his ear cocked curiously to the sky.
“Was that cursing?” asked Hyden.
“Might have been,” Mikahl replied.
The little screaming voice was moving rapidly toward them, and coming from the level of the treetops. The sound was now obviously angry words, not some animal call, but the voice was little and childlike. The curses, however, could have been coming from a drunken seaman. The source of the voice suddenly became clear, and it was as astonishing as the sound itself.
Talon came swooping out of the trees from downstream, and was quickly approaching them. Clutched in his claws was the little creature that was causing the racket. It was a little man! A tiny little man!
Talon landed as softly as he could manage, then held the little guy pinned, shoulders under one claw, legs under the other. The bewildered companions stared, as the man grunted and huffed under Talon’s weight. The bird was forced to keep flapping his wings sporadically, as the little man squirmed, wiggled, grunted, and cursed.
Grrr rose quickly, and with a curious way about him, stuck his muzzle in close, and sniffed at Talon’s victim. His hackles rose, and he stepped back, snarling. The companions all had the same wide-eyed, open mouthed expression, but Hyden broke free of it and spoke to calm Grrr. He had to say a word or two of restraint to Oof, who was coming in close to investigate as well. The wolves’ reaction, Hyden could sense, was not from anger or a feeling of danger, but from a sense of uncertainty.
“Oh mighty mushrooms!” the little man chirped. “Let me be, let me be! I done naught to deserve to be a white-furred monster’s turd!”
Mikahl looked at Hyden and Vaegon in turn. Hyden was busy soothing the wolves, but Vaegon looked just as shocked as he felt. This only served to further Mikahl’s sense of disbelief at what he was seeing and hearing. This was the forest that Vaegon called home. Nothing in it should surprise him. But this did.
“Let him go!” Hyden ordered Talon aloud.
The hawkling obeyed, but only stepped back off of the little man. Talon kept behind him, ready to snatch him back up, should he try to make a run for it.
The little guy stood up, and dusted his britches off indignantly. They were a faded green color, as was his vest. The garments looked to be made from frog skin, or maybe leaf lizard hide. On his tiny feet, were leather sandals, and his hair and beard were gray and neatly trimmed.
“Who? What are you?” asked Hyden.
“I’m minding my own business, is who I am!” He chirped back angrily. “What’s a sorry lot like you bothering with peaceful folk out here anyway?”
“Sorry lot!” Mikahl shot, as he sat up and loomed in on the little man.
The little man pointed at Vaegon first.
“An elf, who can’t see straight, and a wizard, who can’t read.”
His finger had moved to Hyden. Then he pointed at Mikahl.
“And what’s this? A king with no kingdom!” the little man clutched at his belly and laughed with mock hysteria.
“Callin ya a sorry lot is being far too kind!”
“I ought to let the wolves eat – ” Mikahl started, but cut himself off abruptly when the little man’s eyes widened, and he pointed up and over Mikahl’s head. The tiny man’s mirth had vanished, and his jaw hung slack in a gasp of terror.
“A dragon!” he squeaked. “Mighty mushrooms, no!”
They all turned and looked right into the sun; even the wolves had followed the little man’s finger. The brightness of it put colorful, blooming patches in their eyes. By the time any of them had blinked the searing splotches away, the little man was darting into the leafy underbrush at the tree line with Talon hot on his heels.