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Sil gave Ontaros a credulous look. If there was so much to know in one world, and he wished to know it... then why did he changed worlds?
She thought of asking, but decided she had had enough of his foolishness. She lies back and looks at the stars. Were they really that wonderful? Was nature really that great? Was the world an amazing place?
She didn't know, didn't care, and didn't think so. All she needed was her basement and her things.
There was a little more conversation, but before long Silvana rolled over and fell into a dreamless sleep.
OOC: from my phone. Apologies for typos etc

BIC:
The creature had lain down, made an effort to relax, and by all appearances was content at the magicker's side, but it just wasn't that easy. He'd gotten over being so near the fire, he'd done what he could about the wailing, worisome woman -and overcome his fear of her flashy firearm at least for the moment- and he'd managed to stop stressing so bad about the magicker's intentions but sleep continued to elude him for some time. His circumstances were just too strange. There were too many unknowns and and and... things just weren't right with the world right then. Not according to the creature's limited understanding. In the relative calm and quiet that fell over the camp he found himself unable to ignore that other self that watched the world through his eyes (with an increasingly agravating and persistent commentary), but it was also easier to deal with without the extra distractions. He could finally give it the attention it demanded. Put at ease, put out, or put down, one way or another it was quieted and Eventually sleep claimed him in spite of his paranoia.
Ontaros simply lay there and watch the stars for a little while after the other two had finally gone to bed. Once he was sure neither were still awake he closed his eyes, gave a little focus and produced a simple alarm spell to summon him if there were any hostile intervention on the camp over night, then once sure his spell was set the magicker vanished from the camp. He hadn't gone far actually, but he didn't wish to disturb his comrades with his training. The mage went through various balance and agility tests as well as several fighting stances and attack combinations. Hours whiled away though the night as the mage continued to train his body, pouring nearly all his focus into his task at hand. Kicks, punches, jumps, flips, hand stands, hand springs, constantly pushing the limits of control of his body, constantly pushing his ability to accurately perform, from attacking summoned stone pillars to jumping from one pillar to another. As day broke however the magicker returned to camp, but found a satisfactory perch for viewing the sunrise in an overhanging tree.
Sil woke shortly after the sun had cleared the horizon with a groan, a huff, and a sigh.
"Guess I'm still here.... Don't know what I was expecting."
She sat up and started untangling things from her hair before running her fingers through her long hair, trying to make herself into a semblance of order. Maybe today they would find civilization.
Her stomach rumbles.
"But first I'd like some breakfast..."
She contemplates how successful climbing trees to look for eggs would be. And quickly dismisses it.
Looking around she doesn't see the mage.
"Ontaros?"
Was she alone? With the creature? She didn't know if this was a good thing or not....

(( PS: I AM the gold at the end of the rainbow blaugh ))
The creature woke quietly after a less than quiet sleep. He opened his eyes at the sound of the woman's voice as if he hadn't been sleeping at all but simply resting and eyed the female two-legger without bothering to lift his head. Was she always this noisy? Perhaps she was afflicted with some sort of compulsion. From the moment she regained consciousness she was at it again. He briefly weighed the merits of attempting to frighten her into silence with a challenging screech or snarl... Alas it was mightily in his best interest to abstain.
Somewhere in all that chatter of hers he'd heard one of those words. The ones these two-leggers so rarely use for some reason. Her use of the word made no sense to him though. It was abundantly clear no love was lost between them. She seemed to loath him with all the appropriate intensity typical of her type of two-legger, so why would she ever want to call him over? He didn't trust it. He was also feeling a tad lazy and rebellious. They'd both just woke up! It was too soon to start with commands. So, in all his rebellious outrage he sat right where he was without so much as batting an eye. Oh yeah! He was one motivated, proactive creature! Unlike her he was concerned neither with the issue of food nor the where abouts of their missing magicker. He closed his eyes all but a crack and resumed dozing.
(( For a moment I thought someone else had posted. Didn't recognize your avi! Is the pot one of the skittles items?
Also, rofl Oh yeah! He was one motivated, proactive creature! ))
OOC: nope. Just me being silly with the outfit. Been a real long time since anyone's seen my avi's face. I'm glad you like the silliness. =)
Upon hearing his name the mage's response came from the tree tops "Yes ma'am?" Where exactly Ontaros was though was a bit difficult to pinpoint in the dense foliage, but he was certainly somewhere overhead enjoying everything the skyline had to offer. The sunrise had been perfect with all the wisps of clouds dotted here and there casting lovely shades of red and orange all across the horizon. It looked like nothing but fair weather as far as the eye could see so that would be atleast one less thing that Sil would have to get upset about as they traveled. He knew she was certainly going to be a handful. To some degree he looked forward to it and to another he knew he would have to grin and bare it.
Well, at least he hadn't abandoned her. That was.... good. Though she couldn't fathom what he was doing in a tree. Unless he was looking for eggs.
"Just seeing where you were. Any eggs up there?"
She wished she had a brush, her hair was such a mess. And could take a shower. She hated the outdoors. Oh yes did she hate the out doors and nature and creatures and trees and... ugh! Camping was the worst. And this was worse than camping!
She grumbled to herself wondering if they could go back to the river so she could wash up. But without soap! They had to find civilization. They HAD to!

After getting her hair as orderly as she could, she decided to braid it to keep it orderly.
The creature finally showed some interest in his surroundings when the mage spoke. He raised his head at the sound of the man's voice and peered up into the canopy. His large ears swiveled and twitched, seeking any kind of indication of where the magicker had secreted himself away to but to little avail. One ear and eye turned to the female as she addressed their hidden companion but her noise-making wasn't of any more help than the tricky tree-tops disguising the two-legger. He was about to turn away from her and resume his search when she did the most fascinating thing. Instead of returning his attention to Ont, he gave it completely to watching the finicky female's fantastic display of dexterity. What was this now? What a strange and mesmerizing thing to do! What a way of prettily preening her peculiar plumage! Oh! He wiggled his finger-toes around the staff the mage had given him. Could he do something so wonderfully creative? He doubted it sincerely. But it did look so familiar. It reminded him of something. His black knuckles paled on the magic stick. He was reasonably certain he'd never witnessed a two-legger preening before -something he'd always thought bizarre- but the sight of such a simple thing struck him as quite within the norm, even as it was obviously a glorious and rare display of coordination. Suddenly she was so much more interesting, and a source of a small bit of jealousy. Never mind his coat wasn't long enough for braiding. He would never admit it, but she'd garnered a smidgen more respect from him for that. She was an artist after all, and art was certainly something to appreciate. Sometimes. In this case it was an acceptable sort of art, as opposed to the unacceptable sorts. There were more of the latter than the former which perhaps made it even greater of an accomplishment.
The mage smiled to himself and a cool morning breezed rolled through before he leaned back... All the way back... and fell, head first through the branches. At the last minute Ontaros bent his legs back in time to hook and catch himself on the bottom branch, where he hung lazily upside down, and his blonde hair though now adorned with a few more leaves hung and swayed in the breeze. "No eggs" the wizard stated matter of factly. He looked around and smiled "I trust you both slept well?"
Sil's hands stopped on her hair as she looked up at the crashing noise, she made a slight gasp as it seemed he was going to break his skull open. When he did not meet her expectation she glared at him.
"You should have more caution. You'll get yourself killed doing that." Then, as though she had wiped her hands clean and it was no longer a concern, she finished her braid and tied the thing off with a bit of string. Flicking it over her shoulder she looked at him will much calmer eyes, "Did you see any restaurants then?"
Same as the female two-legger, the creature abruptly lost interest in the braid. With a start his head snapped around to find the source of the crashing. Ears laid back and tail twitching in irritation, he craned his neck to look up at the magicker. Mean, mischievous, magicker. He glowered at the man and then, on whim that overtook him before he had a chance to think twice, he gabbed a nearby pine cone and lobbed it awkwardly in the two-legger's general direction. Throwing was definitely not a motion natural to any four-legged animal and the creature was no exception but somehow he managed it against the mechanics of his anatomy. The projectile tumbled lazily through the air, missing the source of the creature's irritation by a wide enough margin that it was either laughable, or deliberate. The very next moment the creature conveniently found something very fascinating in the dirt in front of him and proceeded to fiddle uselessly in the moss and twigs with his recently dexterous fingers. It wasn't him! He didn't do anything! It was that pestering festering villainous voice in the back of his head! He hadn't meant to do it, the voice made him do it! He'd deny it! They couldn't make him say he did it! It was preposterous anyhow. Creatures simply didn't throw things. It was un-creaturely.

ooc: weeks later, this is all I've got, sorry.

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