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 Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2008 4:54 pm
This shelter is almost ridiculously small. It's the kind of hollow a pair of fledglings would love to hide in for fun and play games in. An adult Sentinel would have to crouch awkwardly to be able to enter, and sit down inside to avoid bumping their head. Nevertheless, an adult and a fledgling have managed to get inside to escape the storm.
(This shelter will start later than the others since Brightling's player is gone until the 5th or 6th.)
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Posted: Sun Apr 06, 2008 9:40 am
 Featherflit shook her wings. Ugh, gross! They're completely soaked. She fluffed up her small feathery body as a chill wind wound itself into the tiny shelter. Looking around the tiny shelter, she whimpered as she realized that she was all alone. But picking her head up, she poked her beak bravely outside the entrance of the tiny hollow. If she was going to be the greatest scout the forest had ever seen, she was not going to be scared of a little thunderstorm! But the Thunderbird was out in full force tonight, and Featherflit recoiled back into the hollow, her head tucked in her wings.
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Posted: Sun Apr 06, 2008 7:50 pm
Brightling wasn’t entirely sure how she was possibly going to manage survival in this storm, especially since the area she was traveling seemed completely devoid of.......anything useful. Jingling ridiculously (she had put on all her bells in anticipation of a much less terrifying night) in the wind, she banked and cut an odd, curving path in an attempt to ride the worst of the gusts of wind.
An unexpected blast of chill air sent her sideways, and she scrabbled madly for a perch in the first tree she saw, suddenly aware that there was no possibility of her flying any more. Still jingling, the sound irrationally happy in the storm, she looked around and blinked surprise to see...a beak.
“Little fledgling, little one, I’m coming in, all right?”
It was the mark of desperation that the bard had lost her playful sense of rhythm. Inspecting the hollow, she made herself as small as possible and pushed uncomfortably into the hollow, shaking as much water from her wings as she could. Shaking beak to tail once inside, she fluffed apologetically at the fledgling she must undoubtedly have showered with cold water.
Immediately starting to preen, she wondered idly if that much water could make feather dye run.
The noise outside was still unpleasant, but at least she was no longer experiencing it. In the muted ambience of the hollow, her bells made softer noises than the incessant clanging the wind had brought upon them, jingling in a way that reassured the bard.
After a minute, she looked over at Featherflit.
“Hullo, little one,” she said very softly. “Are you all right?”
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Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2008 6:04 pm
Featherflit picked her head up out of her wings at the sound of the jingly stranger, and began to preen her chest feathers quickly. "What? W-Who?!" she said, ducking from the water the newcomer had brought along with her.
Picking up her beak, Featherflit looked her up and down. "Who are you calling little one?!" she asked in a huff. As if to prove her courage, Featherflit scooted closer to the opening of the hollow with her talons. She appraised the winds like an experienced Elite. Never mind the fact that she had barely learned how to fly, --- But Featherflit's lofty thoughts of swooping through the storm clouds were interrupted as another deafening flap of the Thunderbird's wings crackled through the air, rolling Featherflit into an undignified heap of feathers at the other end of the hollow, jingling the bells at Brightling's feet.
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Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2008 6:47 pm
The easygoing relaxation broke as soon as Featherflit moved toward the hollow, and Brighlting lunged forward to stop the little fledgling when she fell back into the tree of her own volition.
It was a mark of how shaken the Bard really was that Brightling couldn't even bring herself to laugh at the small Sentinel's antics. When the Thunderbird cried out again, she flared her wings, hissing defiance at the world raging outside, and quickly scooped Featherflit back onto her feet. "Careful now, fledgling," she said in a voice that was much more clipped and tight than her usual easygoing drawl. "Tonight is not a night to be defiant of the Thunderbird."
As if summoned, the sky roared, and the hollow was full of blinding fire, a thousand times worse than Helios condensed into an instant. Suddenly flaring again, Brightling shifted and herded Featherflit as far to the back of the hollow as she could, and then spread a wing as far as the cramped space would allow, shielding the little fledgling from the elements. Closing her own eyes for a moment, she recited a soft song in her head over and over, not even realizing when she started humming it aloud. She called it her sleeping song; it was something of a fledgling lullaby.
"Stars are dimming, day is coming, hush, hush now my little one," she murmured in a low singsong lilt. "Bats are nesting, birds are rising, hush, hush now, the night is done."
And she repeated it a few times until she could keep her chest from heaving in great gasping pants and her heart had slowed a bit.
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Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2008 7:36 pm
Featherflit squawked in protest at the jumpy bird's movement, especially as she was suddenly swept into the back of the tiny hollow - not much of a movement, but one Flit didn't approve of, nonetheless. But the Wildtype's erratic, hasty manner hushed the young fledgling. But as her broad wing enveloped Featherflit in a muffled, silenced world, she relaxed.
As the bard's song began, Flit swayed back and forth slowly, in time to her favorite song. When it was done, the fledgling opened her large dark eyes to look up at the bard. "Who are you?" she peeped reverently. It was as if a few of the storm clouds had lifted, or the Thunderbird had found other forests to be terrorized. Whatever it was, the only sound at the moment was the steady wash of rain, and the trickling of the moisture through the tree. Relatively quiet for this thunderous night.
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Posted: Tue Apr 08, 2008 12:53 pm
In the temporary lull of the storm, another faint sound softly makes itself audible. It is very weak, but a sentinel's ears are more than sharp enough to pick it out, now that the Thunderbird isn't beating his wings right above their heads: A quiet squeaking and whimpering, as if made by something very, very small, from somewhere within the walls of the very tight hollow.
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Posted: Tue Apr 08, 2008 6:18 pm
When Brightling finally opened her own eyes in response to the fledgling's question, she had calmed herself. And indeed, the storm even seemed quieter. After a moment, a half-tranced Brightling shook off her warm fuzzies and realized that for the moment, the Thunderbird's shrieking was gone. She clicked her beak and leaned down to preen Featherflit's ear tufts in reply to the question, then lifted her head.
Something was making a noise. Peeping softly in surprise, Brightling tried to shake out her wings (again, as much as the space would allow) and looked around. "Do you hear that, little fledgling?" she asked, tilting back and forth, trying to pinpoint the noise. "It almost sounds like something's crying, doesn't it?" she asked. Shuffling around awkwardly, trying not to crush the fledgling in the process, she tipped her head close to the wall of the hollow.
"I think you can move around more. Maybe you could see?" she asked, tipping her head down again to nibble affectionately at Featherflit.
"Oh, I forgot," she said suddenly. "I'm Brightling. I'm a bard."
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Posted: Wed Apr 09, 2008 2:49 pm
Featherflit sighed as she was nibbled and preened by the older Sentinel. Females always seemed to do this thing to her, although it did help her feel more relaxed. "I'm Featherflit, nice to meet you." she said, yawning.
At the Bard's bequest, Featherflit shook off the warm fuzzies to hop as far as she could towards the tiny squeaking sound. Twitching her ear tufts, she pinpointed the sound, thanks to Brightling's tip of the head. Peering, she spotted a hole in the wall of the hollow. Peeping in, she saw... bark. Yet, the scuffling sounds continued. "I can't see it, Brightling." Featherflit said in a huff. "It's gotta be deep in this tree somewhere." she muttered, tapping the bark with a talon. But the hollow tapping sound that followed was surprising, to say the least. Sentinel hollows were not known for their flimsy walls, nor did they often choose possibly rotten trees.
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Posted: Wed Apr 09, 2008 6:59 pm
Brightling gave another fluff-like peep when the fledgling found what they were looking for. shuffling closer and ducking her head to inspect the hole, she turned this way and that, turning first one eartuft, then the other to the hole as if to see which one she heard more clearly from.
A stray CRACK made her jump, hooting loudly, and she bumped her head against the roof of the hollow.
A brief cry of pain was immediately replaced by anger. "Pinfeathers!" Brightling proclaimed loudly, shaking her head and gingerly looking to see if she had strained or damaged anything. The odds were good that she had, but she did not want to admit it to the fledgling. So she squatted down again and peered curiously at the suspected source of the sound. Huffing when she didn't see anything, either, she turned her head first one way, then the other.
"I wonder what it is?" she murmured, sounding grumpy.
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Posted: Wed Apr 09, 2008 8:13 pm
Featherflit backed away as far as she could from the investigation of the hole, and naturally was almost stepped on by Brightling. Reeling around the hollow, the fledgling fell with full force at the tiny peep hole. Although the fledgling didn't weigh much, another resounding CRACK met her efforts. Featherflit backed away from the sound quickly, treading on Brightling's talons.
"Maybe the snuffling thing is making those cracking noises to scare us??" she suggested to the disgruntled bard. One thing was for sure: these cramped quarters weren't going to help their situation one little bit.
Tentatively poking the peephole again with a talon, the hollow sound behind it resonated throughout the hollow, and the small snuffling sound quieted. "What could it be?" Featherflit whispered, her feathers poofing up with frustration.
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Posted: Wed Apr 09, 2008 8:24 pm
Giving an idle smile to Featherflit at the suggestion that the noises were coming from the little thing (whatever it was), Brightling gave a shrug of her wings and leaned down to preen a talon. She suspected it was probably a tree not holding up well in the Canopy, branches come tumbling down, but it wouldn't do to scare the little one.
Curving a wing protectively around the fidgety fledgling, she guided her more inside, keeping her away from the entrance. The last thing she needed was to lose a fledgling because of her own stupidity.
The Thunderbird gave a deep snarl, and a sudden lash of rain struck the tree, some of it blowing in and spattering both the Sentinels. Brightling hissed unhappily and shook herself, swiveling her head to inspect the entrance. The wind shifted, taking the dashing water with it, and she clicked her beak. "Weather," she sniffed.
Then she leaned down, confident that she could keep her attention on the supposed hidey-hole once again. Shifting, she nibbled at the knot, and then moved fussily around, trying to arrange herself so she could hook a talon into the hole. She was just as curious as (if not more than) Featherflit in this case. What could it have been?
Idly, she looked around, still seeking any other possible locations of the noisy one.
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Posted: Thu Apr 10, 2008 5:05 am
A tiny, pink nose slowly becomes visible inside the little hole, snuffling about nervously. It looks remarkably much like a Martes' nose - only pink, completely hairless and a bit more blunt. Oh, and significantly smaller. Why, this creature seems to be just the right size for a snack!
It gives another faint, tentative squeak and then starts to back away into the denser darkness again.
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Posted: Thu Apr 10, 2008 4:57 pm
The brown fledgling blinked, looked at the Bard, and back at the little hole. "Did you just see what I saw?!" she twittered excitedly, leaning in to peer at the little hole once more. But nothing but wet wood met her gaze. At least her curiosity (and growling stomach) had wiped out any fear of the storm. Huffing, Featherflit aimed her tiny talons at the hole, venting her frustration to the mysterious noises around her. CRACK! She staggered as a bit of the wood crumpled and splintered from her strike. The peephole was now big enough for two eyes to peer in, and the mysterious snuffling sounds had increased in fervor. Featherflit looked from her talons to the wood, to Brightling, and back at the wood. "Want to take a look?" She graciously offered, praising herself for letting the Bard have the first peek.
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Posted: Thu Apr 10, 2008 5:28 pm
The pink, snuffling face made Brightling puff up in excited surprise, and the bard tilted her head first one way, then the other, wondering what the thing could possibly have been. Her first thought, that of it being a Martes, was invalidated. Much too small. Snuffly and squeaky and pink and hairless and...
A fledgling's curiosity lay dormant in the bard, but now it had been kindled. When Featherflit offered her a peek, she preened the fledgling's eartufts in thanks and then leaned down, tilting first one eye, then the other to the hole. Hissing softly to herself when she realized she still couldn't see, she nibbled the edge of the hole again, then closed her beak on the rim and pulled on it. Bits of wood curled away. Brightling did this for a minute or so, until she had worked out a sizeable enough sliver to push a talon into, and then laughed ruefully.
"Would that I were a woodpecker," she said. "We'd have our little friend out in no time. Come here, little one," she crooned, wondering what she'd do with the animal if it were to show itself. She had to admit, the idea of a snack was a tempting one. She hadn't eaten yet today. Perhaps she and Featherflit could share a snack.
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