Welcome to Gaia! ::

Birch landed on a sitting branch with as much dramatic flair as he could summon.

"Do you want to hear a story," he asked, "No Spectres in it, I promise."

Before anyone could protest Birch raised his voice and started to tell his story. He had avoided joking about the chick up until now, as discussions tended to get heated when it was mentioned. This little nod to the recent gossip was as far as he was willing to go for now. Birch wasn't stupid, and he wasn't about to take sides.

Once upon a time, not far from here, a brave scout was patrolling the borders in the Cold. This was in the wintertime when the snow covered everything and made the below creep closer. It can be dangerous up in the cold, but the scout was fearless. As a Mist she didn't fear the cold and she was used to biting winds and freezing cold nights.

However, Birch said and leaned closer to the audience, she was as vulnerable as any of us in the face of a snow storm.

((Since I have the worst timing ever this takes place a few days after the longest night, and I let Birch announce it in the event thread))

This was in the midst of winter, when Noctus fights fiercely against his brother, Birch continued and leaned forward spreading his wings slightly. The scout found herself trapped in one of their furious battles and desperately tried to find shelter for the storm.

She couldn't find the way back to the shelter she had used the day before, and as the gusts of wind grew stronger and threatened to throw her off balance she grew more and more desperate. The snow made the air look white and frightening and gave her a hard time seeing where she was going. Sometimes she had to bank at a moments notice as a dark tree trunk seemed to jump out at her from the blinding whiteness. Nothing looked familiar any more.

As she was beginning to lose all hope she saw something that looked like a dark shape in front of her. Could it be the opening to a hollow in a tree? The Mist hurried closer towards what might just be her last hope.

Birch paused and watched his audience, swiveling his head around to look at each and every one and meet their eyes. It was a suspenseful story and he did not want to rush it. Some might have heard it already, but they hadn't heard him tell it. Each bard would always add or subtract a little to make a story their own. He watched two fledgelings creep closer together and smiled.

((Mind if non-Bards post in here? We're not sick of entertainment!))

Liam the Minder and his charge, Thorn, snuck into the theatre. Liam loved hearing the bards tell stories, and, although Thorn was pretty sure he wanted to be a crafter, no harm exposing him to other professions. Birch was in the middle of a story, and Liam hoped that he hadn't missed too much.

Tousled sat - true to her habit - camouflaged against a brown, mottled tree trunk, and listened with rapt attention to the bard's tale. Her eyes shone blissfully and seemed to be watching something beyond the stage, beyond the forest itself, yet at the same time they were glued to Birch's every movement - not missing so much as a twitch of his ear tufts.

Bard festival! What a marvellous idea! Tousled fluffed up in pure joy, and spent some moments absent-mindedly preening herself, without once taking her eyes off of the storyteller.

Teak travelled through the trees, perch to perch, looking for an ideal creature to eat. It had to be tasty, of course; also, completely stationary and large enough for her to aim at. Something along the lines of a deaf-blind mus that had mutated to the size of a small tree would have been perfect. No such luck, unfortunately.

The young Sentinel was gliding through a group of evergreens when she heard a rather muffled noise far above her. Alighting on the nearest branch, she leaned backward and peered through the foliage. The sight of the platform puzzled her.

"What in Noctua might that be....." The thought of a Parus so gargantuan as to have built the nest briefly crossed her mind.

Teak shook her head briskly. She was an adult now. No more silly thoughts, no matter how hungry she might be.

She decided, nonetheless, to peek into the nest just to be sure nothing edible lived there.

On discovering the group of Sentinels gathered around Birch, she was fascinated--also hungry, but she was getting used to that. Teak had certianly heard Bards deliver wonderful music and stories, but she'd only encountered them as they passed through the area where she lived with her minders. Never before had she heard of such a thing as a permanent theatre!

She settled on a limb at the perimeter of the platform and stared wide-eyed at the Bard. He was a ham, sure, but a good story is a good story.

Tousled was completely oblivious to Thorn's wave, as well as to the appearance of the Shadow female in the very same tree as herself, having blissfully surrendered completely to her own imagination that had been given wings by Birch's words.

Twilla was leaning forward on her perch. Her eartufts were flat against her head as she listened and became trapped in Birch's tale. Although she had missed the opening, she quickly caught on to what had been happening and his skill as a bard took hold of her imagination.

That poor sentinel! How horrible it must be to be caught in a snow storm. She, herself, would probably not be able to survive the cold, being a shadow type.