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 Posted: Tue May 20, 2008 10:13 am
This perch is favoured by teachers since it's slightly higher than the perches in the surrounding trees. Fledglings are gathering around to listen to Fjord the Muse, quickly filling up the surrounding branches.
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Posted: Tue May 20, 2008 3:34 pm
Fjord sat high on the favored perch and a light smile tugged at the corners of his beak as he watched the fledglings filling the branches before him. He had taken meticulous care of his feathers before hand to make sure he looked his best and his dark furred mus sat beside him, grooming her whispers with just as much care as her master had given his feathers. Hers was the life of a performer, just as much as his was, for she often sat beside him on stage and participated in his practices.
Feather the pica was hiding somewhere in the surrounding branches, watching with cheerful eyes and what seemed to be a smile.
"Hum, ho! Gather 'round young ones! Gather 'round and what say we have some fun?" Fjord called out in his soft, song-like voice.
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2008 12:49 pm
 Brindlebark, from her perch on a branch just a few feet away from the Bard, flapped her wings eagerly. WoodMus, who hadn't left her side since the Storm, was held neatly against her chest feathers with her Will. She'd been practicing at it daily, and could now carry her beloved toy around without fail. While she certainly hadn't noticed, she was now quite a bit bigger than she had been. She'd heard the Minders and other Sentinels talking about how the Fledglings would soon reach their adulthood. Excited conversations, and knowing looks. Brindle had picked up on the excitement, and also a bit of anxiety.
She knew she was going to be absolutely amazing in her future position in Sentinel Society, but... as what? That singular question had been whirling around in her mind for a long time, but only in the last weeks had it taken on an urgent life of its own. What was she going to do? She needed ideas. And then, the Fledgling Festival! A night of stories and fun! Brindle had rejoiced since the Bards would be telling all kinds of stories about the great Sentinels of the past. Brindle was hoping one of the stories would ring true for her. A Bardic revelation, so to speak.
Bouncing a bit on her branch, Brindle hooted back to the Bard, enthusiasm like a wildfire in her voice. "What story will you tell us?"
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2008 1:17 pm
Will O' Wisp was beside herself with excitement, her feathers fluffed up in an eager display of contentment. Tonight was the night of the festival! Her minder had been goaded in to telling Willo stories of past festivals, much to her chagrin. She was a minder, not a bard, and was thus as elated as Willo when the festival began.
Willo had pleaded with her minder to let her use some dye, to make herself as showy as possible, but she had been told that she mustn't compete with the bards. Willo had been dismayed momentarily, but brightened at the prospect of hearing the stories and song and performances of the bards. She was a true romantic, loving stories of romance and great battles; the more suffering, the better.
Landing heavily on the high perch, Willo moved restlessly with excitement. Not only was she to see a performance, but she got to see it on the best perch too! She wriggled with excitement as she peered at the bard, awestruck by his fancy appearance. Willo pried her eyes from the Bard, and turned to look around her, noticing that she had joined another fledgling. Smiling gaily, Willo shuffled over to the other fledgling.
"Hullo!" Willo shouted boisterously, her voice far too loud for the simple greeting. Willo wasn't one to be silent for long.
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2008 7:11 pm
"Ah, a tale?" His eartufts lifted and a smile spread across his beak. "Little ones, you all know of Fatewynd, right?" He mentioned the well noted sentinel hero that dominated the majority of the tales he enjoyed telling.
"Yes! Fate. Wynd.Fatewynd!" Crow called cheerfully in her meek little mus voice. She looked ti Brindlebark, then Will O' Wisp, and gave a cheeky wink.
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2008 7:28 pm
Brindle gave a high-pitched hoot of alarm when a Mist fledgling shouted in her ear tuft. Blinking rapidly, Brindle hopped a short distance away and gave the other girl a reproachful look. After a quick check to make sure WoodMus was still there, she sighed with relief, and scooted back over to the other fledgling.
"You startled me! Hullo!" she said, cheerfully enough, while she settled back down onto the branch. "I'm Brindlebark! You can call me Brin, if you like! This is WoodMus!"
She lifted the little toy with to show the other fledgling, then tucked him back to her chest. The Bard's voice rang out over the crowd of fledglings, and there was immediate silence as the young Sentinel's listened to his words. Brindlebark felt the feathers on her head stand up in anticipation. Fatewynd! What a marvelous name for a great hero! She was delighted when the Bard's Mus winked in her direction, and attempted to wink back amiably.
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Posted: Thu May 22, 2008 7:39 pm
Stories! Bards! Fun! This is going to be SO. AWESOME.
Dodger has been really really good recently. Learning lots, doing what she's told, getting ready for graduation. She's been so good that she's been rewarded with the chance to come to the festival (and it's not just that Hawthorn wanted some time to himself, really). So here she is, sneaking into the favoured 'staging area' for the Bards, excited to see and hear anything and everything that she can.
Taking full advantage of her larger size (at least there's one advantage to graduating late), Dodger makes her way to a nice perch. It's helpful that the other fledglings edge away from her unnaturally bright feathers, but she doesn't seem to notice that. So absorbed was she in her examination of the bard - are those BELLS on his feet? - that she didn't pay too much attention to the Wildtype and Mist females she'd settled next to. Are they talking to each other? Yup.. and they'd better not wreck the Bard's performance.
She was late, but not so late that she missed the introduction. Fatewynd? Her beak gapes in a pleased grin. She's never managed to sneak in to listen to one of his tales before! And this time she didn't even have to sneak, since Hawthorn gave his permission and everything.
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Posted: Fri May 23, 2008 6:18 pm
Willo was about to reply to Brin when the bard spoke. Her reply dying in her throat (It had been a simple statement of her name, spoken far too loud yet again) she turns eagerly to the bard, Fjord. He was so elegant and bright!
Willo couldn't help but to develop a crush on the bard, probably her third that week. Willo had known her entire life that she wanted to be a bard, but not only that, she wanted to be a good bard. She had been searching for a teacher, but she was very exacting in her wants, and no one had held a candle to her mental image of whom she was to train under.
Perhaps Fjord would take a student? Willo smiles cheerfully, and shuffles, trying to find a comfortable position to listen to the story. She had heard of Fatewynd before, everyone had, but she was sure to hear it in a very different way that night.
Willo only took cursory notice to the fledgling that had joined them, mentally grumbling that someone looked fancier than she that night.
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Posted: Sun May 25, 2008 2:11 pm
(OOC: Aurrie's internet troubles continues, so she told us to post the first part of the story. Enjoy!)
"Gather 'round, young ones, and listen to a tale of old. For this takes place before you were an egg, before I was an egg, before even the Brigadier himself and the terrible wars that our great grandmothers and grandfaters fought in corageously.
No, this brave tale takes place well before those times, when the sentinels were young yet the forest still old. Our clan was young and thriving, then, and prey was bountiful. Long forgotten were the fearful days when our survival was uncertain. Our clan was growing fat and happy and hatchlings were boisterous and bountiful. All was well within the Forest and Noctus was pleased with our progress!
As times were not hard, the sentinels of old egan to disregard the ways of thanking Noctus and even the wonderful life that the mighty Thunderbird bestowed upon us. Noctus was saddened greatly by this and the Thunderbird was frightfully angry. And one night...
The rains stopped coming."
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Posted: Mon May 26, 2008 3:27 pm
Willo was beside herself, lost in the story of times so old that she couldn't even fathom it. How long would that have been? Willo tried to calculate it but she fails at thinking past one + one equals more than one.
Willo knew that something bad was going to happen. The story started off so nicely, and BAM. Suddenly, her ancestors were in trouble. Willo chuckled to herself. She loved bards.
"We... we know this won't happen this year cuz it rained like, a while ago. HARD."
Willow couldn't help herself. So she answered in the best and loudest voice she had.
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Posted: Wed May 28, 2008 6:03 am
"Sssshhh! Let him tell his story," she hisses quietly to the Mist female, eartufts flattened against her head in annoyance. And just in case her vocal warning isn't enough, the patchy aberrant fluffs up to make even more big and intimidating, glaring down at the other fledgling. Willo is younger, so she should be quiet and not ruin everything! It's not fair, this is Dodger's first and last chance to enjoy a bardic performance before she graduates, and this silly little loudbeak is going to ruin it all.
Sighing loudly, Dodger looks towards the bard (and his mus) and rolls her eyes, shrugging her wings as if to say 'well, at least I tried!' And with her simple warning completed, the aberrant settles in and tries to enjoy the rest of the story... while keeping a wary eye on Willo's beak.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2008 8:43 am
Fjord's beak edges turned up in a smile at Will O' Wisp. "Now, if it weren't for Fatewynd, the Thunderbird would of abandonned us!" He told her, but gave her a broad wink.
While Dodger's hiss had been a whispered one, he heard something amongst the fledglings. Who it was had become clear as she sighed. His smile seemed to vanish as a look of concern came over him. What was wrong with that one? White spots? Was she sick? Why would a minder let a sick fledgling sit amongst the rest? She could easily spread her illness! He had seen another sick sentinel before. He was entirely white...
Perhaps what this little one had would cause that?
He shuddered as he thought about the white splotches forming over himself. Still, he did not want to prevent her from enjoying history... He was torn. Still, she was sick.
"Miss...?" He looked to her eyes in an attempt to lock them. "Miss, could you please move a bit?" He motioned a wing to the side. "Not much... But a bit. I'll tell you when to stop."
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2008 7:18 pm
Willo felt the chill coming off the older fledgling, and started to reply rudely when Fjord winked at her. AND replied to her question!
Feeling vindicated, Willo fluffs herself up as well, her heavy mist feathers making her look like a very large hatchling. And now even the Bard was telling the big one to move aside. Ha. Ha.
"See? I can talk if I want to!" Willo whispers to Dodger cattily. Not that Willo wanted to talk, per se, as she really enjoyed the bard's performance so far but she couldn't help herself. She is just far too excited.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2008 7:38 pm
Ooooh, no she didn't! Blue eyes wide with indignation at the sheer temerity of this silly little Mist - how dare the fluffy little thing talk back to her?! - Dodger draws herself up, prim and proper, unconsciously mimicking her mentor's erect stance. Her own righteous tirade is ready to spill out from her tightly-clenched beak (since she'd be sure to whisper, so as not to annoy anyone else and ruin the performance) when she realizes that the bard had been speaking to her just then.
Dodger stops, turning her head to gaze up at the performer (he's an Aberrant, she notices, his feathers of a just-not-quite-right hue). And she stares blankly for a few heartbeats while her memory works to retrieve the words he'd spoken. "Miss, could you please move a bit?" That's what he'd said, right? He wanted her to.. oh. Oh.
And as swiftly as she'd risen in her own defense, and in the defense of the audience's right to enjoy the performance without the added contributions of her neighbouring Mist fledgling, Dodger shrinks down. She knows what that means. And while a sullen and angry part of her wants to scream out - it's not catching! - the socially-responsible young aberrant swallows her disappointment and her pride, and begins to edge away.
She's not bothering to wait for the promised signal, since she's learned in the past that watching and hoping just makes each step she takes feel like more of an exile. She simply leaves, waiting only long enough to arrange her feathers and pick out a route that avoids disrupting the other fledglings as much as possible.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2008 7:45 pm
Fjord watched the "sickly" fledgling move along and while he felt somewhat guilty for her leaving completely, he was glad that there would be a smaller risk towards the attending fledglings and himself. He would not mind if she hung around the outskirts, but she seemed to have gone through similar situations on a frequent level.
At least she was not next to young Will O' Wisp and Brindlebark.
At least they were all a little bit safer from the illness.
"Oh? Where was I? Oh yes!
No gusts of winds shook the mighty forest, nor did rain fall and grace the trees and plants with moisture. The prey were thirsty and hungry; they uprooted and began to move. They scattered to the east, to the west, and to the south. Of course, this meant no food for the sentinels. All suffered from these dramatic turns of events and keepers were expected to turn their charges over to the minders, so the hatchlings and fledglings would have plenty to eat. The keepers had only so many companions to feed to the young ones and the sentinels quickly realized that some brave feathered creature must travel from the Forest to find help; otherwise they would be forced to leave the ancient forest that we all call home.
The first to volunteer for this arduous task was none other than a large and well known wildtype with the dubbance of Fatewynd. His bravery was noted from the times he had proved his mettle to his clan by coming to its aid. All knew well of the time he had saved the fledgling from the ever cunning fox, Banethorn; when he braved the sky to defend the clan from the angry and frightening goshawk, Sharptalon; and when he helped to defend the Minder’s Enclave from a raucous murder of crows that had taken on harassing the poor minders and their charges. His clan needed help and he was not one to shirk his dept and duties to the clan."
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