Ithildess felt her stomach rise and drop again to the slow bounce of the jungle raptor, as it trampled and sunk its claws into the ill-defined path it treaded. It wound its way through the trees seemingly at random, but the mount was as agile as it was imposing, cutting across the jungle floor with ease, even when the beaten path became completely obscured. Claustrophobia under the open sky was a strange sensation to her, if it had been at all possible to look up and see islands of white drifting across the open blue, but in the jungle it was dark. Dark and damp. Her leggings chafed against the saddle and she was certain nowhere on her body had been left dry; sweat matted her hair, rained down her forehead, stung her eyes and made the clothes on her back stick like a thick film to her skin. All kinds of trees and plant-life encroached on their riding party. Long, curved trees that tapered off at the top and opened its crown like a parasol, snake-like trees that had climbed along the bark of another to reach daylight, trees with massive girth that shot up far beyond the canopy, and even trees barbed with spikes and murderous saplings struggling for the top, as one tree had fallen with age and left its reservation in the sun.
With every sure stride the raptor took, Ithildess felt her bruise throb with pain, but she kept silent. No use complaining when she was sure Zul suffered just as much, judging by her equally sweaty self and her annoyed, labored breaths, as if searching the air for something but always coming up short: the air around them was both warm and heavy with moisture, and still like a crypt, but at this stage she would've greatly preferred cold, dead halls to Stranglethorn. Ithildess pressed the canteen between her legs, icy cold and dotted with drops of water provided some relief from the humidity. She took a swig and the coolness passing her lips tasted sweeter than ever.
"Have some water, Zul." Ithildess said and refilled the steel canteen with conjured water, chilled by arcane magic. She touched it to the troll's back and she yelped, then sighed, took the canteed and drank deep, holding the reins with one hand until the container rang empty.
"That must be the best water I have ever had," handing it back, she gave a deep sigh and a loving squeeze to Ithildess' thigh. "I thought I'd still be used to this heat, but it's become far fiercer than I ever remembered it being."
"Why is it so hot?" Ithildess asked. Zul had long since discarded her armor into the leather packs on the side of the raptor, and her shirt, translucent with wetness, clung to her back, flushed darker blue and muscled and strong. Ithildess kissed between her shoulder blades and the humidity suddenly wasn't as unbearable.
"The trees trap the air and the water. No wind blows here, the air is stagnant. Old leaves and plants rot under our feet and adds to that, think of it as riding inside a glass bowl."
"You know so much about these jungles."
"Not as much as I used to," Ithildess could hear her the smile and the voice weighed by nostalgia as she started, "we used to hunt in the jungles all the time. Our village found or made our own passages for animals to travel by. The jungles are difficult to traverse, and an animal will always seek the route that is simplest; clearings, little dirt paths, or close to waterways. Knowing the jungle is key to not starving."
Ithildess felt herself taken by Zul's words and she imagined the scene before her; a hunting party combing the jungles, thinking like an animal and moving along their nature-made paths. She hugged her close despite the heat, she was her hunter troll, the capable and dependable. The knowledgeable, strong and bold. In Zul she could find her own strength—at least to beat this thick air.
Armed with a curiosity from Zul's stories and the feeling of her returning to her home, in body and spirit, Ithildess asked, "What's your village like, Zul?" Share with me everything you are, she thought.
"For one, there are no trees in or around the village, so the air won't suffocate you," she joked. "We made huts, walls and palisades with the wood when our numbers grew, and we built along the beach."
"Beach?" Ithildess parroted, voice bright with wonder.
"You'll love it. Sparkling water with plenty of fish and a long stretch of shoreline. We get food from the sea and from the jungle, and water from the rains. You'll like it for another reason but you should find that out for yourself," she could her Zul's mischief color her voice. "I can't wait to show you around."
They arrived to a deep cut in the jungle; a shallow, rocky stream beset on both sides by muddy slopes where a great river had once split the land. Zul leaned back and so did Ithildess as the raptor slid down to the riverbank, uneven ground littered with damp boulders and thick, smooth gravel. Now Ithildess knew why raptors were the mount of choice in these parts, its claws gave it steady footing where everything seemed to be slippery. Even uphill it left terrifyingly deep marks in the wet soil, and in a few strides they had passed to the other side and were greeted by another path; well-trampled by both troll and animal, wide enough for one full-grown mount to pass without its rider getting pummeled by leaves and loose vines. Not far away, the sound of drums rumbled through the mass of trees, the bass resonating with Ithildess and making its way through leaves and trunk, still air and calling birds. The sound was exhilarating, and marked to Ithildess the threshold into Zul'raja's world.
"Is that them? Why are they playing?"
