Craig and his best hunters skimmed the forest for signs of Mist. They liked forests. The hunters separated and went different ways.
Scanning through the canopy, Craig noticed a girl leaning against a tree, staring into space. He walked up to her, smirking.
“Hello there, pretty little lady,” Craig greeted, placing one hand on a space on the tree next to the girl, trying to intimidate her. She shifted her gaze to him and rolled her eyes at his smile.
Ah, that reaction must belong to Aella of Mist.
“Aella, isn’t it?”
“And you’re Smokey.”
“I got a name, Craig, not Smokey,” Craig protested, forming a Smoke gun in his right hand. He pointed it at her. She didn’t move. “Why aren’t you apparating?” he asked, skeptical.
“Nowhere to go,” she stated simply, not scared at all.
“Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. Like old Douglas would let a treasure like you go off wandering on your own?”
“If I was a treasure, no.”
“Hmm…” Craig weighed his options, looking Aella up and down. “You’ve got two options—die by the Craig’s gun, or follow me and become my subject.”
“Subject? I can do better.”
“Whatcha mean by that?”
Aella thought for a moment. “Well, I’m in no hurry to die. I’ll follow whoever values me.”
“Good choice,” Craig said, grabbing her wrist and apparating through smoke back to his own headquarters.
That was one big fish in his pond.