Of Mice and (Proto) Men [Exemplary]

[Proto Man]

“I didn’t know I died,” Mireya responded after the joy seemed to drain from her features.

Proto Man knew that his companion had left night elf society after feeling like an outcast, but that was the extent of his knowledge. It didn’t even register with him that traveling to the same society where she’d been exiled might make her uncomfortable. I’m an idiot.

“Well half your squad got pulled down river, and let’s face it, it’s not like you were the crème of the crop.”

Mireya tensed up, her fingers clenching and unclenching as she stared at the other woman and her three companions. The night elf Elia was clad in a mixture of leather and metal armor that seemed perfectly molded to her lithe features. Various insignia on her shoulders and chest indicated that she was not only a member of the Sentinels (some kind of night elf defense force, per Dataverse search results) but an officer of some sort. “I seem to recall besting you in singles combat during training,” the half-night elf retaliated, prompting Elia’s smug grin to turn into a scowl.

“You’re encroaching into the night elf’s sphere of influence. What business do y—” The Sentinel officer’s gaze moved to the two much smaller companions traveling with Mireya. “You and your pint-sized friends have here?”

“We’re traveling to Yggdrasil,” Proto Man explained as he took a step forward and tried to defuse an escalating situation. “I—we—need to relay some news to someone called Tyrande Whisperwind. If I’m correct, she’s your leader, isn’t she?”

Elia nodded as she glanced down at the machine. “Lady Tyrande is, in fact, our ‘leader,’ but who do you think you are to demand an audience with the High Priestess?”

Proto Man knew that this woman was simply doing her job, but she was starting to grate on him with how abrasive she was acting. “I am an associate of a woman called Whirda Windstrom. She was tasked by your High Priestess to travel to the Pale Moors, find a man, and try to bring about an end to the Blight. My companions and I come in Whirda’s place to relay the results of our efforts in the Moors.”

“That name doesn’t sound familiar to me,” Elia remarked, still unable to trust the preteen machine.

“It’s not my fault that you’re ignorant of affairs of state,” Proto Man replied, eliciting a soft chuckle from his half-night elf companion. “We’re going to travel to Yggdrasil regardless of whether or not you offer your assistance, and while none of us here want to resort to violence, we’re not above defending ourselves.”

The scowl of the Sentinel officer grew deeper as she turned to glance at her companions. While she had the advantage in terms of bodies, she knew nothing about the two individuals who stood beside the deserter. Turning back to confront the red robot, she shook her head. “We won’t impede your travel, but we’ll have our eyes on you. If we catch any of you doing anything suspicious or destructive, we will deal with your accordingly.” With that, the group of night elves seemed to almost vanish into the darkness beneath the surrounding tree cover, leaving the trio to themselves once again.

“You have some nice friends,” Proto Man said as he turned to look up at Mireya.

The half-night elf scowled. “Elia was one of the worst…she couldn’t stand that an impure half breed beat her.” Mireya took a step forward and spat into the trees. “Puta.”

Mickey’s eyes widened a little as he turned to look at Proto Man. “Something tells me that wasn’t a happy word,” he said, ending with a soft chuckle as Simba seemed to materialize from the nearby brush. “Anything, Simba?” The mouse inquired.

“I can smell those women, but I can’t track them,” the lion said, his expression quizzically as he looked around at their surroundings. “Whatever they are, they are very skilled at concealing themselves.”

“They’ll always be nearby,” Mireya spoke as she looked up into the trees. “Night elves are like that… they can meld in and out of the shadows with relative ease. It has something to do with their relationship with their goddess.”

“I guess we ought to keep moving?” Mickey asked, trying to steer the conversation away from sore topics. “How do the night elves cross the Animus? Boats?”

Their resident ‘expert’ on night elves shook her head. “They rarely do so. Their heartland is on the other shore, but every now and again, they’ll send groups like that one to the other side to rattle their sabers. They make them swim.”

“Swim?” Mickey’s eyes grew wide as he recalled just how wide and turbulent the river was that he’d seen. “Something tells me there’s more to it than that.”

Mireya shook her head. “It’s usually considered a rite of passage for Sentinels. If you can survive the swim without being eaten, caught in the rapids, or pulled downstream to your death, you’re considered one of the very best.”

“Did you survive that test?” Mickey asked—a question that had just popped up into Proto Man’s head.

The half-night elf nodded. “My Crossing was at a point further to the west, where it wasn’t quite as terrible. Myself and two others had just started across when the others back on shore were attacked by orcs. We tried to turn back, but that caused us to get caught up in the current. We were separated, and when I made it to the other side, I decided not to look back.”

“…So swimming is out of the question,” Mickey replied glumly as he noticed Proto Man playing with a whistle he wore as a necklace. “Something on your mind, Blues?”

The robot nodded his head. “Yea, I got a solution, I think.” Placing the whistle in his mouth, the preteen sucked in a mouthful of air and blew. What came from the tiny device was a horrible sound that made Mickey stumble backward and clap his hands over his ears. Simba likewise let out a grunt and recoiled, leaving Mireya standing there with a confused look on her face as the sound died away and the whistle dropped to Proto Man’s chest. “What the heck was that for? You tryin’ to make my ears bleed?” He asked as he shook his head to try and dispel the ringing sound.

“I’m sorry,” Proto Man muttered as a column of white light descended from the sky and hit the ground behind him. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hear at that frequency,” the preteen added with a frown as he turned around to watch the mass of light fade to reveal a red robot dog.

“Hey, a pup!” Mickey said with a smile as he jogged forward and held out a hand for Rush. “Haha, he’s a metal dog too.” The mouse held out his hand for the metal mutt to sniff. After ensuring that Mickey didn’t smell terrible, Rush let out a bark and licked the side of the mouse’s face, causing Proto Man’s new friend to recoil with a laugh. “That’s pretty real though.”

“This is Rush,” Proto Man explained as he patted the dog on the head. “I got the idea and the name from my brother’s dog, but I like to think my version is way cooler.” Obviously concurring with the assessment, the robotic canine let out a pair of barks and dropped onto its haunches. “You ready to help us cross the river, Boy?”

“Bark bark!”

“Function Two is working, correct?”

“Bark!”

“Awesome!” Proto Man shouted, as if he’d just had a conversation with the dog seated next to him. “Active Function Two.” With a nod, Rush slid his front legs forward and laid down so his head was between his paws. In a flash of light, the dog’s various leg joints shot out some steam as they locked into place. A beat later, Rush’s rear legs flashed as they were replaced with a pair of thrusters that glowed to life. “We’ll have to take turns, but the Rush Jet should be able to get us across the river without having to risk life and limb in the process!”

Mickey let out a soft chuckle and glanced over at Simba. “You should take some pointers,” he said jokingly to the lion, who merely rolled his eyes at his friend’s attempt at humor.