Following the path under the branches, the warm dappled afternoon light mingling with the distant sounds of cicadas and singing birds and seeming to envelop Rok, all but made it clear in his mind as he followed his guide that there would be no going back now.

“This is as far as I can take you lad,” the gruff and quite old ranger said some time later, breaking the silence and coming to a stop, the tall man’s footsteps all but silent, a sharp contrast to the sound of crunched leaves and protesting roots under Rok’s own boots.

“What now?” he asked, sweating freely despite his loose garments and relatively light backpack. His guide had insisted, claiming that there would be little to no need to burden himself beyond the essentials, like some food stuff which the Ranger also carried, and of course some other necessities, like a thicker change of clothes and a cloak that could and had also served the role of a blanket and shield against the startling chill during the nights that replaced the thick forest’s stifling warmth during the day.

“Now, lad,” the ranger said, his voice slightly muffled through his hood and half mask, how the man didn’t just suffocate under this intense humid heat, Rok knew not. “Now we wait,” he said and the man’s normally indifferent eyes seemed to sport a touch of warmth, and, dare he say it, even regret. “Tis a brave thing you’re doing.”

Rok simply shrugged, slapping a buzzing fly away. “Someone had to and, well, its not like I had much going for me back home, so why not volunteer?”

“But do you know what you’ve volunteered for?” The man asked, turning to face him fully and away from the trail, if the thin line of dirt between branches and thickets and all but crowded by branches and roots could be called such.

Rok hesitated a moment and almost gave in to the urge, but he managed to suppress the instinctive retort from escaping his lips.

For one, it would be a lie.

And for another there was no longer anyone around he cared to impress, not that there had been a lot of those before, and the few that might have cared he was unlikely to see again.

“Well…” he squirmed. “No.” Before admitting his ignorance with a sigh.

“Ah, youthful ignorance,” the ranger said and the whimsy and mocking tones in his voice made Rok give in to the instincts that had served a once young rascal well, less so a growing teen, and very much less so the man he’d grown up into but still he’d failed to stamp them out even though it’d been a few years since his majority.

“Hey! I ain’t no brat you old timer.”

The man scoffed and even with his face half hidden, the eye roll was perfectly visible as the man crossed his arms.

“Of course you ain’t, you wouldn’t be here if you were. The Viril don’t have any use for children or wet behind the ear teenagers with more hay than brains between their ears,” the man eyed him up and down and seemed to disapprove of what he saw. “In fact, for all that you were on the older side of the candidates, this wasn’t why you were chosen.”

“Pardon?” Rok said, caught flat footed for he very much hadn’t been expecting to be taken to task all of a sudden.

“What do you know of the Viril?” the man asked out of the blue.

Brows furrowing from the abrupt change, Rok still tried to answer the gruff and mercurial man and in doing so avoid blurting out the instinctive answer of hot, tall, bunny women. Which granted wasn’t even wrong for the rare times one of their number visited the town each and everyone of the fluffy eared beauties had been drop dead gorgeous.

“Well…they are one of our most trusted allies and they guard the borders against the Fae?”

The Ranger scoffed and made to respond before pausing, and with a blink and a grudging grunt, offered a curt nod. “That’s…not inaccurate if very much lacking in detail,” he said and sighed. “Look, kid⁠—”

“Not a⁠—”

“Listen,” the man grunted and Rok swallowed his retort. “You are correct, the Viril are one of the kingdoms most trusted allies and they protect the western border as you noted. But tell me, any recent problems on our side of the fence that spring to mind?”

Brows furrowing, and panting due to the oppressive humidity that made it hard to think at times, Rok let out a frustrated sigh, blowing a strand out of his eye, his hair were getting overlong it seemed.

“Err,” he started slow. “The…border skirmish on the eastern side⁠—”

“It ain’t a border skirmish,” the man said, tone abrupt. “Its a war.”

“But—”

“Yes, not a lot of people know about it yet, that’s by design.”

That was…surprising to say the least but Rok still couldn’t see what this had to do with him and his circumstances and he said so.

“Simple kid,” the man said and Rok growled, he thought he’d finally escaped such nicknames a few years back with his majority but apparently that was not the case. “The volunteers sent to the Viril more often than not help the galls guard the borders.”

“That makes sense⁠—”

“But not always,” the Ranger ignored him. “And this time our town, and the villages nearby didn’t send any of their most martially capable volunteers, or at least those with promise of such for we need them for the war and instead we sent you and others like you before…”

“Where are you going with this.”

Sighing the man shook his head and with arms still crossed took a step towards a nearby tree and leaned against it.

“What do you think they’ll use you for? You won’t be any good as a fighter.”

“I can fight⁠—”

“Not against the Fae, I can tell you that.”

The instinctive urge to retort, to be a contrarian, to be loud and heard almost had him in its grip again but, unlike those times when a young rascal had to ensure his voice was heard and not overlooked there was no one he needed to impress.

“Ok, maybe not.” He’d never seen one of the terrible and wonderful beings after all. “But still, I’m sure they’ll have a place for me.”

“Oh they will…” the man said darkly and the suspicion that had been growing in his Rok’s mind during their talk could no longer be denied.

“Why are you telling me all this?” he said at last. “I ain’t going back.”

For the gruff Ranger’s words and veiled warnings were trying to deter him.

But he didn’t have much, anything really, waiting for him back home.

What. A leaky room in the slums, made from bits and pieces scrapped together and having to share it with half a dozen other men down on their luck like him and who, in truth barely tolerated him?

Friends? What friends, the few he could call such had already left in search of a better life for themselves either as adventurers, knights in the army or what have you and Rok had little talent for hitting things and less so for magic.

This way at least he’d have a proper roof over his head more than like, and do something with his life.

He might not know much about the Viril, but he’d heard bits and pieces over the years about the bunny women, mostly from a few loose lipped traders, and the one thing most of the rumors agreed on was the fact that they were good people overall even if their ways were somewhat strange to outsiders. Those that were allowed to visit that is. But regardless, according to the those who had visited. Those who volunteered to permanently join them, like Rok, were treated very well…even if none of said traders, diplomats, and dignitaries ever expanded on what they meant by that.

So why not volunteer?

It wasn’t like he had anything holding him back and even if the tall bunny beauties worked him to the bone, his dreams would be sweet and with some luck and a whole lot of effort on his part…

Well, who knew~

“Look, kid,” the Ranger said again. “If you leave it’ll cause problems no doubt but there’s still time and—” the man stilled and seemed to cock an ear before sighing and slumping against the bark. “There was time.”

“I don’t understand?”

The man shook his head and said no more and for a few moments silence reigned or as much as it could between the song of birds, the rustle of leaves, and the sounds of insects.

The soft rustle of thicket and leaves drew his gaze back to the trail and his breath hitched, cheeks flushing with alacrity while in his breast, his heartbeat thundered like a drum rumbling to the tune of a mad god and he felt new beads of sweat form on his brow that had little to do with the stifling heat.

“Oh my~” said the tall, curvaceous dark skinned woman standing and seeming to block out the path behind her with her beauty. “This is your offering?” she said, her fluffy bunny ears twitching as with glimmering red eyes and a grin on her full scarlet lips she eyed him up and down like a lioness eyeing a juicy gazelle.

Rok squirmed, unused to such an experience from a girl…girls in general at that.

Especially girls, no, a woman like the one standing before him.

Tall, with twin tone red and gray hair, a large bosom that seemed to strain against her frayed crop top and below her toned belly, those flaring hips all but threatening to tear out of her short shorts and those juicy thighs attached to long legs and boots…

No, Rok hadn’t ever been the recipient of much interest from girls and never from even so much as a cursory one from a woman like the one that now stood before him.

“I know he doesn’t look like much Brenille,” the Ranger said, his voice seeming to come from far, far away as Rok found he couldn’t seem to focus on anything much beyond the tall beauty and her statuesque figure, and when she seemed to catch her gaze and smile wider?

That didn’t help matters.

“But Rok is a capable lad and I’m sure he will excel in the frontlines⁠—”

“Oh fret not you old grump,” the dusk skinned beauty said with a dismissive wave before again smiling at him.

“As if you are a spring chicken yourself…”

The bunny stuck her tongue out at the Ranger before smiling again. “We’ll find a use for the cutie here, and speaking of, say, cutie.”