Welcome to Gaia! ::

Character || Hijil
Stage || Massif
Battling || Nondwa x 3
Battle Stat || 20
Defense || 7
Roll Needed || 60-100
Rolled || 80, 18, 56
Outcome || win x 2, Lose x 1
Experience earned ||
Difficulty 6

12+3= 15+15 = 30 exp

1000 words needed

The children were asleep, and Hijil could almost forget their mischief as she looked down on their soft little faces. They looked so innocent, so pure. They were little troublemakers sometimes, especially Ishida, who liked to slip away when Hijil wasn't looking (but for a moment!) but Hijil didn't care. It wasn't even a matter of forgiveness – she just didn't care. She kissed them both, lightly, on the forehead and went out into the night of the canopy home.

She still was awake in the dark(er) hours, finding it soothing for her skin to be light and for the dark to cloak her. Her sleeping was nudging its way closer to Bhima's, though, and she wondered if there would be a time when she would miss the night completely. It was a frightening thought, but it would mean that she could spend more time with her family, awake and aware in the day-lit canopy.

She crossed the canopy bridges to check on the kinfa. They were still growing, bigger and bigger, and she wondered when and if they would ever stop. Already, Atipi and Ath ate so much, and between them and the children and Bhima and herself, Hijil was hard pressed to keep the pantry full. If they continued to grow, how much more would she have to feed them? And when could they be flown on?

She wasn't worried that they would be safe around the children – though they were moody birds, they were always careful not to aim for harm. Their beaks and talons never drew blood, and their wings had never flung anyone from the canopy or broken bones. Not that Hijil had seen yet, anyway.

But there were other worries – they did fight among themselves, and the enclosure she had built for them was rapidly becoming too small for them. A place for them to roost, take food, sleep and shelter from the rains, it was essential to make it comfortable and livable for the two of them. Hijil hoped they would reach their full size soon. For now, she was just tending to them with a basket full of bugs and a feather comb.

“I'm here.” she said softly as she approached. It was quiet, too quiet – typically she would have been greeted with impatient cries and affectionate churls, but instead there was nothing. “Atipi? Ath?” Perhaps, she thought, they were asleep. They, too, preferred the daytime hours.

But they were neither asleep nor hurt. Instead, as she ducked into their enclosure, she saw that they were staring at something on the floor with razor-sharp intent. Hijil had expanded the enclosure recently, and so the floor distant from her was a different color, a lighter wood that she had found, strewn with hay. On this floor, and under the gaze of the two birds, was a quivering nest of nondwi... nondwi that would soon be food, if Hijil did nothing about it.

“No.” she commanded. “Atipi. Ath. No.”

They looked at her willfully, ready to defy her. “No.” she said, holding up the bucket of bugs and waving it in front of them, “Here. Eat this. Here.” She placed it in front of them.

The kinfa considered it. Nondwi, Hijil knew, were poisonous and bad-tasting. The bugs in the basket were plump and delicious. It was not much of a choice. The kinfa turned their attention away from their prey and tore into the bugs with gusto.

Hijil approached the nondwa tentatively, hand outstretched. She was fond of Nondwi. They were beautiful, but also serene. She had known them all of her life in the jungle, and seeing them and their canopy cousins fluttering around had always been soothing. She reached for its head to pet one of them.

It couldn't stay here.

It touched her hand with curious antennae, and she wished she could keep one as a pet. Maybe I can? she thought hopefully, looking around for something to catch the animals with so that she could move it to a safer place and try to tame it with food and affection. There it was – a blanket, covered in feathers and dung, but it would be useful none the less.

Carefully, so as not to startle either nondwa or kinfa, Hijil went over and picked up the blanket. It was stuck to the floor – she had to jerk it off, and she heard a gossamer flutter of wings. She turned around, to see that one of the nondwi had decided to fly away.

She frowned, but hadn't she initially wanted to preserve its safety? And the safety of the kinfa? Of course. That meant she should be happy that one had left. There are also, still, two more that maybe can be a pet. she noted. They were so pretty and cute – maybe the children would like one, too.

She crept up behind the animals and threw the blankets over them, noting that the kinfa were watching her all the more intensely as she tried to hold down the now wiggling and soiled cloth. “No!” she insisted to them as one of them – Ath – leaned over and delicately pecked at the cloth with a beak. It was enough motivation for one of the nondwi – it wiggled free and flew to the exit to the outside, lingering there half in and half out of the shelter as it rustled its wings in apparent annoyance before flying away.

One nondwa was, actually, just enough for Hijil to wrap in a blanket and carry away, so it was really quite fortunate. It felt lighter and more solid than she expected, carrying it in her arms. She looked at it's gleaming, faceted eyes peering out from beneath the blanket, its feelers reaching for open air, and she suddenly felt horrible. She was capturing something that should, after all, be free. Why was she doing that, just to have a pet? It was one thing to capture food. But, after Bhima had once gone off about the imprisonment of small fish in tiny glass homes, Hijil realized that she was not doing this right.

“... sorry...”

She said, unwrapping the animal and setting it on one of the bridges. It rustled its wings back into place and she watched it sadly.

“You probably won't be back here, but, uh. If you do...” How absurd – she was talking to a bug. She spent years without anyone to talk to, but now, surrounded by family, she was talking to a bug. “... I have food if you want it.”

It seemed to consider it before flying away. She sighed, a little disappointed.

Oh well.