"The wind is in the west."  A passerby of keen eye would still have been hard pressed to see the still figures on the hilltop.

            "Yes."  The second figure was slimmer than the first, but more solid.  A cloak hid her face and much of her form, but she was more firmly tethered to the sunlit world than her companion, who was much more transparent, barely separate from the wraith domain.

            It was night, and the moon was new.  The hill was lit only by the faint starlight, but it was enough for the two companions.  The wind gusted suddenly, blowing the hood off of the second one and solidifying the first for a swift second. Now free from the hood, her hair billowed out as she turned.  Behind was a creature that was not in the least human-looking.  It was a lizard, but with skin instead of scales and wings like a bat.  It trilled a high note and was instantly shushed.  Their watcher stiffened.  There were now three of them, the ones he had been sent to hunt.  The hidden one felt some sympathy for the doomed... things, whatever they were.  They did not belong here and he would hunt them down as he was told to do.   

            His quarry had left the hilltop, but they could not go far, not far enough away from him, anyway.  He pulled his cloak tighter around himself. It had gotten colder.  That was when he felt steel on his neck. 

            "Rise," a cold voice hissed next to him, "Or you will be colder still."

            He did, and faced her, taller than he was, face hidden beneath her cloak.  He heard her hiss again, but it was different this time, holding less menace, "You are a Hahia?"  He stared blankly at her and she added, "A Halfling."

            She threw back her hood and her hair billowed out around her face, and he gasped.  Her skin was an odd color, or so it seemed.  It was as if most of the light wrapped around her, with barely any reflecting off.  She seemed solid, but it was as if any color had seeped out, leaving her with this, this opposite of all color.  Her face was a slim oval, with white specks dotting her cheeks and nose, rather like freckles; her lips were full, and she had high cheekbones, a slim nose and bright eyes.  The whites of her eyes seemed to glow, her pupil was grey, and her iris the navy blue of the night sky before it goes black.  Then he gasped again, for the tingling wind had reveled one pointed ear beneath her sky-black tresses, a deep shade without the highlights or sleekness of normal hair.

            She studied him, scrutinizing his face as closely as he had done hers.  Then she lowered her knife and walked away.  He found his voice and called out to the way she had gone and asked where she was going.  She stopped, turned back and said in a low clear voice, "I cannot harm you, Hahia, but I have business that will not wait."

"Why not?"  

            She paused, and cocked her head, her expression unreadable.  She sighed, a mournful sound no different than the wind.  "I," she hesitated, seemingly unsure of her next statement, "I owe all Hahia a great debt, Halfling."  She bowed and was swallowed by the night.             

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She sped up the hill, swift and light as a soft wind.  Her companions waited at the top.  Zarë flapped up to her shoulder, brushing her neck with head and one wing, making a low muffled moaning.  She stroked him, and turned to the one beside her.  "Halfling."

            He nodded slowly.  "That explains the scent."  It was the scent that had first alerted them to their watcher.  It was an odd smell, warm and living, yet different.  Human and orc blood smelled hot, very hot, and burned.  Dwarf blood was very thick, and rough, like the mountains they were born from.  Elf, he shuddered at the memory, elf was colder than other living things, and the smell was biting, clawing into his head and ripping at his mind.  This smell was warm, but it was gentle and did not burn.  It brought to mind color, light, the flowers of spring, things that he now missed from before.  It was strong though, beneath its warmth, stronger than the elves in a way. 

            "You let him go," he said.  It wasn't a question. 

            "Yes, of course."  She laughed, a gentle, bubbling sound between a hiss and a cry.  "It confused him, but, something..."  This last bit was softer, almost to herself.

            "Good."  He also hesitated, than asked, "Something?"

            "He seemed, familiar, almost.  I did not remember until now but I have smelt some of the Hahia before.  He was like one of them, I am sure of it."

            He frowned, then shook his head.  "The sun will rise soon.  We must be far away by then."

            She nodded, and shifted a string beneath her tunic, moving her charge to her other hip.  Than she turned and ran down the hill side by side with him, their steps the same.  Behind them Zarë launched himself off the hill into the dark sky.  They ran silent for a time, before she spoke.  "They know."

            "I know, but it can't be helped.  I'm surprised they did not learn of us sooner."

            “Zarë can now only fly when the moon is blocked, or they may see him.  It is a good thing he is so small.  Any bigger and carrying him would slow us down too much."

            The running pair and their winged escort spoke no more for the rest of the night, nor did they not slow until the dawn drew near.