Once Mitch managed to clear his room of the pixy infestation he sighed and sat down to write his report for the day. The little dragon pulled out a sheet of leaf paper and poured fresh ink into the inkwell. Dipping a talon in the ink, Mitch began to write. Kir, The sting was successful. You were right, I was the perfect choice for this assignment. I have a feeling there won't be any trouble from the Afnoc'er tribe for a long time. Using his farsight, Mitch checked the Afnoc'er rogue who had attacked him earlier. The man was covered with puffy pink welts and itched furiously while he screamed for Calamine lotion as well as screaming obscenities. Noting the chains the Enforcers had already placed on the unruly man, Mitch was assured that everything was under control. Shifting the farsight to orient on Serthedal, Mitch couldn't help chuckling as Serthedal's mate asked if he had picked up the groceries. During the mess he'd caused, Serthedal had forgotten all about the task he'd left his home for in the first place and could only utter a simple oops in reply. At this, Mitch began writing a new section for the report: There was trouble with Serthedal again. The problem was fixed, but I'm worried. Serth gets more senile every year. Check for some kind of memory spell. His claw hovered uncertainly over the paper as Mitch thought about the day. Slowly and thoughtfully Mitch wrote the rest of the letter to Kir. When he was done he hurried the ink's drying process by breathing warm smoke on the paper. By now his smoke smell had become as powerful a signature as his scrawl at the bottom of the page. Setting the paper to the side, Mitch walked through the home to where he'd seen Hazel last. Luckily Hazel was still there, her hawk sitting on top of the wicker chair. Mitch walked over to her, his wings tucked neatly on his shoulders as his talons clicked along the floor of living wood. "I need to borrow Sil." Mitch stated, crossing his arms unconsciously. Though confused, Hazel allowed Mitch to do what he needed with her hawk. Mitch had never really gotten the hang of magical communication even though he'd had decades of practice. In attempts to get a creature to do what he wanted, Mitch would send pictures and feeling to it. Opening a link with Sil, Mitch sent a mental image tracing the familiar flight to the ranger headquarters. Once the destination was established, Mitch created a mental image of Kir that was associated with a sense of urgency. The tall, dark haired man was then displayed to Sil holding the wrinkled paper. Only with that image did Mitch associate the feeling of completion and accomplishment to the young hawk. Having finished, Mitch sent a query to the hawk to see if it understood. Sil immediately replied with an affirmation and a cheerful cry. Mitch held the paper out and Sil grasped it in his talons, flying off into a sky tinted orange by a setting sun. The sun had just set when Sil reached the Ranger Headquarters. After a quick search, and finding Kir just as Mitch had described him, Sil spiraled down and landed at his feet. Hearing a hawk screech at his feet Kir looked down to see Sil standing on the ground next to a piece of rolled up paper. As soon as he picked up the paper, the hawk flew off to wherever it had come from. Before he could wonder which of the Rangers had sent the hawk, he was answered by the strong smell of smoke on the paper. Carefully Kir unrolled the parchment, looking past his oversized nose as he read through the first two reports. A gasp escaped from his throat as he saw the length of the last one. He'd never known Mitch to write anything so long before as the little dragon was typically short and to the point. I… don't normally do this, but today has been so hectic. I swear, sometimes it seems like the whole universe enjoys messing with me. You ever have a day where everything changes? Just a few hours, and your whole life gets turned upside down. It's happened to me. "I don't believe it," Kir muttered under his breath as he read the rest of Mitch's letter. His voice caught the attention of a Willow Dryad named Dana who had watch shift that night. "What is it Kir?" she asked as she hung upside down from the tree where she was watching. "It's Mitch. He's taken an apprentice." In disbelief Kir was gripping the paper with clenched fists. Dana flipped right side up as her blue eyes shot open. Those eyes were the most human part left from her transformation that caused her to resemble the willow to which she was bonded. "What? How'd that happen?" "I wish I knew," Kir noted incredulously as he turned to her. "I better let him know someone else can take his place if he needs." Out of the blue, or green as some rangers prefer to say, Kir suddenly heard a familiar voice inside his mind. ~No,~ Vn said. ~Make sure that Mitch does this.~ In shock Kir spoke the entities name, surprised at the sudden input of this normally quiet being. "Why?" ~Because as much as those kids need Mitch, he needs them.~ Back at the Ranger outpost Hazel turned to Mitch in the dark hall as she held a light to see by on her way to the kitchen. "I'm making some tea, want any?" she asked. Mitch curtly replied, "No." After a brief pause, almost as an afterthought, he murmured thanks to the young Elvian.