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On the run. That was how her family had become. Her father, once allied to a noble House as courier between them and the courts, now fallen into ill-repute for his marriage with a woman from another species. With the love of his wife holding strong throughout the rumors and pressure, they had taken the decision to go elsewhere. The House of Kithain would, even if it could, not extend protection should eyes draw their way from higher Houses and more. With two riding birds between them and a drawn cart, they set off towards the road. Travelling was slow, made so more by the tedium of the dreary autumn weather. Smooth it was not however. While news of the treason had not yet reached higher ears even if it was only a matter of time, the sight of seemingly two lone travelers just outside of a small town was too tempting to truthfully resist.

The bandits leapt out towards the family. T'Jaron leapt down from the riding bird, drawing his blade and letting out a low trill from his throat; what might otherwise have been taken for a snarl. Then, without warning as the three bandits moved towards him, he raised a hand and sharply slapped the flank of the other. K'Melisen kicked in her booted heels, spurring it onwards and onto the cobblestone path. Seeking nothing more than to get to safety where she could.

"Run Wyrd, run!"

Better they split up for the time being, than remain together and risk being capture all in one. Here at least, while it would be easier to hide, it was also a lot easier to get lost... The teen' scampered away down a side-alley as soon as one came to sight, panic beginning to settle in as she took turn after turn. At least the dress she was wearing was easy to hitch up, and made the task of maneuvering easier. Dead end, turning sharply before rapping on one of the nearby wooden doors. "Shelter, I seek shelter!"

Shadarach had been lazing on the roof of his house when he heard something sharply rapping on his door. He flinched at the sound, sincerely hoping it wouldn't wake his father- if that happened they would all be in trouble, especially considering the voice sounded female.

He peered off the roof at the figure below, amber and green eyes framed by large and pointed ears studying her for a moment before sliding off the roof and landing quietly next to her. He gestured at her to keep quiet, listening at the door with a large black ear.

Nothing. The drunkard was still out cold; they had gotten lucky. Appeased, Shad turned to Wyrd, his head cocked in a curious way.

"Shelter, you say? May I ask from what?" he asked her smoothly, his thick black and white tail twitching as he leaned against the door. He was obviously not one of the higher-ups in the small village; his plain clothes proved that. He did have a few nicer ones for traveling and for when he went and did his "business" to bring in some form of money, but until then he was dressed like a peasant, plain and simple. After a quick sizing up he came to the conclusion that she must be of a higher tier considering her fine dress- he hadn't seen any of the village girls wear something as nice as that. It complimented her figure well, in his humble opinion.

Wyrd was easily in enough of a state of distress to not even consider looking up at that point. Raised essentially within a constricting atmosphere, this was entirely new to her in many ways. Trips to the larger cities had been fairly frequently enough but certainly not in such a manner how she had arrived this time. Her fine dress was grubby at the hem and likely starting to get ragged in one or two places, her breathing was rapid and those eyes - a clear china blue - were wide as she suddenly looked up sharply before following the movement. Startled into silence for a moment, she took a moment to explain.

"Bandits. Three out on the road." She couldn't even point in that direction, being quite disorientated by now. "I was told to run into here, as fast as I could." And that, she had most certainly done.

He nodded, shaking his head to clear whatever sleepiness had been in it before and grabbing a staff leaning against the wall. "What are they armed with?" he asked simply, twirling the staff for a moment to test the weight and checking it to make sure there were no cracks or anything else that might hinder him in it. "Oh, and by the way, you don't want to seek shelter in this house. I don't think my father'd like it much- or maybe he would, but not in a good way. Anyways, he's asleep right now and hates being woken up, so if you're looking for a place to hide I suggest going a few doors down and trying again. I'll be back."

With that he headed off toward the road like he did this kind of thing every day, his tail swishing absentmindedly as he scuffed up some dirt with his paws.

Wyrd watched him grab the staff, curious for a moment, before his words and actions finally sparked a hint of realization in her mind. "Clubs, and one had a sword... or an axe." She hadn't seen too clearly, she'd essentially just been dropped off and told to leg it as far as she could. Fortunately or perhaps not so, the two individuals outside of the town had proven to be more of a temptation for plunder than a solitary individual with no belongings being carried on her. After spluttering almost helplessly for a moment, off she scampered after him, if only to try and turn him back.

"But there is only one of you!"

"I know," he replied simply with a shrug. "One of me is really all I need." He grinned slyly at her, rapping his fingers on his staff. "I'm a fox, sweetheart. I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve. If anything I can just distract them long enough for whoever else was with you to get out of there, and get going myself. I should be fine, really, although your concern is touching."

He kept going, an ear pricked to listen for anything else that she might say.

She looked at him sidelong, aghast for a moment. Brazen as a bull was the foxish fellow. With a pause and thoughtful brief biting of a lower lip, she then kept in step with him. While time might have felt like it had dragged, not too much had in fact passed.

Floored was her mother, the riding birds' neck broken by the club but not without drawing the blood of an attacker. Alive she was however, although dazed and held at knife's edge by perhaps what might become the wiser out of the three. The other two, occupied her sire, in what might be called a dance of attack, defend and returning the favor. Sword against club, retired courier against bandits. Limping despite remaining on his feet, he kept up the foray with a dogged determination.

Once the pair came into sight of the roadside conflict, did survival instinct get thrown to the winds as she made for the now riderless bird at a run, determined to reach one of the weapons' or tools still holstered to the saddle lashed firmly to it.

Shad followed at a more leisurely pace, twirling his staff to get accustomed to it before jumping into the fray. The staff actually hurt a lot more than it looked, being made out of thick oaken wood. He was fast and light on his feet as well, able to jump in and out quickly like a nimble monkey. He seemed to be enjoying himself- it had been a while since he had been able to fight.

Wyrd, on the other hand, was in no way skilled in combat. It simply was not part of the childhood she had received. T'was not a womanly pastime after all, to show an interest in such things beyond a mild curiosity. The bandit holding her mother - a stern canine fellow, some hybrid between domestic dog and wolf - snarled in her direction but dared not move from the mildly more threatening figure of the woman he held the knife to. Letting her go would be a mistake; woe betide those who got between a mother and her offspring or husband. Reaching the birds' side, she attempted to calm it, grabbing for the reins. Snaring them, it suddenly sharply reared it's head in panic, throwing her back onto the ground. Landing with a thud in the wet mud, a heavy foot came for her skull. A glancing blow incapable of being blocked by panicking hands, landing and sending her sidelong aways before it bolted for freedom.

One of those occupying the phoenix, an otter with an eye-patch and bald patch of his tail, turned to face towards the teen' with a toothsome sneer as he shifted his grip on the cutlass-like blade in his hand. He lunged then towards the fox with a hiss-like sound, aiming to bring the blade up and over his head in what would normally be quite a powerful blow.

"Hello, Mangey Mug," Shad greeted the otter cheerfully as he ducked to the side, swinging the lower half of the staff first at his legs and then bringing the top half down in an attempt to smack him over the head. "Nice day out, i'nnit?" He made a mental note to go tackle the dog when he was done with the otter, hoping nobody was killed until then because he'd feel bad about it later. He risked a glance back at Wyrd, frowning slightly at her state before ducking again and turning his attention back to the otter.

Wyrd's head felt like it was ringing, uncomfortably muffled and throbbing. The world seemed to swim in front of her vision, and the pain came in sporadic spikes that had no predictability. Staggering upright against perhaps a little voice in her head saying that to 'play hurt' might have been a better idea, her attention helplessly dithered between the one holding her mother, and the one fighting against her father. What could she do? No combat experience, no training in any form of weaponry. But she had one 'weapon' in her arsenal at least. She simply ran at the conflict going on involving her father, waving her hands and shouting. An attempt to distract the bandit, to give the other a chance to retaliate.

The blow to the otter landed, although not before he'd landed flat on his rear end in the muddy ground with a hefty grunt and a quiet rattle of armor. Said armor, also being useless when he wore none on his head! The dull whack of wood meeting skull sounded out, and right after the bandit swiped out with his claws towards one of Shad's ankles, did it land home. Out cold!

Biting back a yelp, Shad felt his ankle get snagged by the now unconscious otter and went down in a furry black heap. He quickly regained his footing, nothing too serious, he didn't think- probably bleeding since the bugger had sharp claws but it'd heal quickly. He'd had worse.

He turned his attention now to the dog, grinning his foxy grin as he sidewinded his way to the mutt, his staff in a defensive position.

The cuts probably hadn't gone deep enough to do any serious damage. The dog, distracted briefly by the little scene caused by the hybrid's foolish attempt at playing the hero, had taken the knife marginally away from the woman's throat. Dithering now properly. To keep hold of her and try and start a stalemate, or... No, he'd deal with the teen' first. While he'd seen him dispatch the otter to the floor, the man was a lumbering oaf at best by his standards. Exposing his canine teeth, the dog clocked the woman on the side of the head with the head of the dagger swiftly; stunning, not killing, before shoving her aside to advance on Shad'.
"Come on kit, let's dance...." Beckoning him with one hand, a dagger now in each paw.

"Oh, that's no way to treat a lady," Shad said disapprovingly, shaking his head in disdain. "Honestly, how would you feel if your mother was clocked upside the head like that? Or did you even have a mother? I have a feeling you just spawned in a muddy ditch, am I correct?" He shrugged like he didn't really care, twirling his staff to keep himself loose and ready to dodge.

She was alive, and well. And now moving towards her daughter, pulling her against him while watching both of the fights. Worried for the teen' and yet at the same time, eager too for her husband to win. Her odds were quite easily on both phoenix and fox, although of course, fate could turn either way.

The dog snarled. Fair enough, his mother had done some things in questionable places but, that hardly meant that he was one to tolerate being insulted in that manner. He lunged forwards, aiming towards the lad's sternum with one dagger while aiming to bring one up ready to block.

Shad slipped quickly to the side, bringing his staff around behind him and across to try to smack the dog in the spine. He flattened his ears to protect them from too much harm, ducking across the other way after swinging through with the staff.

He was fast, you could give him that much. He was smaller, too, so that helped him maneuver more easily.

The strike landed, prompting a yelp from his throat, before the second strike winded him heavily. Unfortunately, he was of a heavier canid breed than the nimble vulpine. Good for bar brawls and brute force, but poorly matched against someone lighter on their footpaws than he was. He aimed a swipe for Shad's side in desperation.

Meanwhile, her mother had recovered, and was moving towards that last conflict before trying to aid him.

Shad was fast, but not entirely fast enough to dodge all of the swipe. He hissed as he felt the blade slash his side and quickly brought his staff up to smack the dog upside and across the head the way he had done earlier to Wyrd's mother, eager to give him a taste of his own medicine and end the fight quicker.

The whack landed, even going so far as to remove a tooth as well. Landing heavily, dazed and disorientated, the remaining bandit was already successfully subdued. Panting heavily and leaning against the one riding bird that had not fled, the phoenix had an arm loosely wrapped around the waist of his wife. Wyrd too had recovered at least enough to get to her feet, looking at the scene before looking to Shad' again... then, perhaps to his surprise, she promptly pulled him into a firm but brief hug. "Thank you." The feline and phoenix approached him then too. "Yes, thank you." The phoenix spoke up again then. "I will find a suitable reward for you, young fox. Without your help, more damage would have been done to my family."

The hug did indeed catch him off guard, and it sort of hurt too since he had the newly formed gash in his side from that dumb mutt.
"You're welcome," he replied, leaning on his staff as he let Wyrd hug him and tentatively gave her a one armed hug in return.