R U [ I ] N E D

A Telepath, a Soldier, and a Shape Shifter Walk into an Inn...

"It's fine." Phoena tossed her cloak over the back of a plush arm chair, curling up into a ball with her knees tucked up against her chest. "You're hardly what I expected you to be like, Callantine je Dellal," she said thoughtfully.

"What's that supposed to mean, and how do you know that name? I don't go by that," he scoffed. "I prefer Callan Dellal. At the very least, it distances me a bit from my family."

"Well, I probably can't figure out as much as him-" She gestured to Brady. "But everyone knows Grand Commander je Dellal's son is a Runeholder and a shape shifter. That makes it impossible for him to be the Commander's son, so you must be him."

Callan leaned back against the bed. "Okay, so what? You know who I am... You care to share? I mean you've been bossing us around ever since we left, maybe we should know your name too?"

"I'm Phoena Brineri, and don't try to shorten it. It's just Phoena."

"You don't have to worry about that from me. I just want to get through this disaster as painlessly as possible. I won't try to provoke you." Callan's eyes fluttered closed, and he jerked his head over in Brady's direction. "What about you, Shrink-wrap?"

"I really don't care for that nickname," Brady grumbled quietly.

"And I don't care for you listening in on everything I'm thinking," Callan huffed, "but I don't have any say in that, do I?"

"Shall I call you Sir Prince then? You are the Grand Commander's son after all." He smirked triumphantly. "My name, your majesty, is Braedyn Mienus. The lady can call me Brady. You, on the other hand, should call me Braedyn."

Despite his irritation at the bothersome nickname, Callan managed to maintain his cool as he replied. "Sounds fine to me. It's not like we're friends or anything. I don't like your kind."

"Telepaths aren't evil, but think what you must." Brady maintained his composure, simply rolling his eyes at Callan. "I suppose if you have the bed and Phoena has the chair, I'll be taking the floor?"

"No objections here." Callan smirked, and Brady gritted his teeth, collecting a few pillows and blankets from the closet to create a makeshift cot on the ground. He fluffed up the pillows and folded a few sheets and blankets to form a softer mattress. He moved to the desk where a lamp let off warm light.

"Are you going to bed?" He flicked his eyes over to Callan, who nodded. Phoena had already fallen asleep, bundled up with her head fallen against her knees, shoulders slouched forward, and arms wrapped loosely around her shins.

"Yeah, we need to rest after all." With a quick wave of his hand, Brady snuffed out the flame and headed to the ground, draping a blanket over himself to capture his own body heat. Callan tried to sleep, but couldn't find the peace that would allow him to drift off. He sat up, pressing his back against the headboard, and rubbed his dazed clouded eyes. His gaze narrowed as he glanced at Phoena. Behind her, the window was pushed open slightly, the cool night air, blowing in and fluttering the curtains near her head. With a frustrated huff, Callan moved silently to the window, carefully nudging it closed. He looked back to Phoena, who without a blanket still sat shivering in her seat.

"No... no..." she muttered in her sleep, tossing her head to the side and sending her fair hair fluttering out around her face. A nightmare? Callan wondered, his brows furrowing. He couldn't help but wonder what was on her mind. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and her breaths were short and taken in rapid sequence.

"Damn it, I can't believe I'm doing this," Callan whispered and knelt down at Phoena's side. He slipped his arms under her, careful to pick the girl up without disturbing her sleep. "Geez," he grunted, "She's heavier than she looks." He glanced at her armored clothing for a moment then back at Phoena's sleeping face as he carried her. "That's probably it." He placed her carefully on the bed, wrapping the comforter tightly around her. She seemed to snuggle down into the mattress, her face relaxing as she settled in. Callan swept an extra blanket from the bed, wrapping it around himself like a jacket as he took up residence in Phoena's armchair. He rested his cheek against the back support, his eyelids feeling heavy. He blinked a few times before giving in with a yawn and dozing off.

###

Callan closed his eyes tighter as he felt as gentle nudge in his cheek, followed by another. "We're wasting daylight," a voice said softly, "Upsy daisy, alright?" He sighed deeply and wrenched his eyes open, jolting back in shock as his eyes met Phoena's. Her face was closer than he expected, so waking up to her bright green eyes was unexpected to say the least.

"The hell was that for?" he hissed, rubbing the back of his head, which had slammed back against the chair when he'd been abruptly awoken.

"Ah, sorry." Phoena scooted back a bit. Brady stood behind her, peering down at Callan curiously.

"How'd you end up over there?" the telepath asked, a small smile rising on his face. "When I went to sleep, you were still lounging on the bed. Don't tell me you-"

"Shut up," Callan growled, jumping up from his seat. "Like she said, we're wasting precious time here. We have a lot to do and not much time to do it."

Brady waved a hand as if brushing off the notion he had in his mind. "Can't argue there."

"Wait..." Phoena picked herself up and swiped her cloak from the back of the armchair. "How did you end up sleeping on the chair?"

"Well," Brady mused, "It seems to me that-"

"I thought I told you to zip it and forget whatever it was you saw in my head?" Callan marched toward the door and swung it open as the words spilled angrily from his lips.

"More or less, you did, but-"

"Then let's keep it like that." The Commander's son swept his hand toward the door, head cocked toward the empty hallway. "Out."

"Seems someone felt like taking charge this morning," Phoena murmured as she walked, passing Callan with a brief suspicious glance. Callan narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.

"You know," Brady started as he stopped at Callan's side, "if you-"

"I said shut your trap, telepath." Callan snarled, stepping outside and slamming the door closed on Brady's face as he left.

Phoena, who was leaning on the wall just outside to wait for the other two, pushed herself up and started after Callan, her expression mildly surprised. "Hey. What was that for?"

"Kid has a big mouth, makes me wish I had sensation magic. Then I could use a silencer spell on him," he huffed, brushing past her.

Phoena shook her head softly. They acted like such children. "And you don't? Wouldn't that be a bit harsh?"

Callan came to a halt a few paces away and turned back to the girl. "Hardly... and don't compare me to him. It rubs me the wrong way." He glared in the direction of the room as he saw the door swing back open. "I'll be waiting outside."

"Callan!" Phoena called after him, but he quickly disappeared down the staircase.

"He gets worked up over the smallest things." Brady sauntered over to Phoena, still seeming rather chipper despite how poor a start the morning had gotten off to. "Wouldn't you say, Miss Brineri?"

"Just Phoena is fine, Brady." She turned her gaze to the boy with a thin frown. "We should probably catch up with him before he decides to leave without us or something." She moved quickly for the stairs, swinging her cloak over her shoulders once more and not bothering to check if Brady was keeping pace.

"Always in such a hurry both of them... Callan to get away from me and Phoena to impress the Gwyrholm's leaders with her skill and speed." Brady tsked, slipping his hands into his pockets, and followed Phoena casually. "I hope they won't wear themselves out," he chuckled, descending the stairs in a steady rhythm.