Leave him behind? Leave him to frolic around with the other foals as if nothing was going on? Bryone snorted as he slunk from the clearing, keeping his gaze on the aged doe who had volunteered to care for the youngsters of those who agreed to go on the hunt for Wanderlust. He wasn't much older than those who were gathered here, and Aldwyn obviously thought Bryone needed supervision while he was away, but the young buck had to politely disagree.
The doe's focus wandered out to a pair that tumbled a bit too close to a swirling stream for her comfort, and Bryone made a dash for the trees, leaping through foliage and snapping twigs with all the grace of a fish out of water. His body stilled once he found cover, but it didn't seem like anyone had noticed his hasty retreat... Bryone bounced in delight once he was clear of her sight and continued forward at a trot.
After all, he'd practically been born in the Barrens! No one should be more suited to such a venture than him. His father had taken him on trips to the Ruins, and out to the edge of Homewood, and had made the mistake of telling him that there were wrongs to be righted, with a noulicorn party out missing in the inhospitable wasteland of the desert.
Maybe he didn't have as much experience as some who would join the mission, but Aldwyn didn't either.
Bryone was sure of this. His father was of course older than him and had already received his gift. He wasn't lazy, but he was wary. And that wariness kept him from acting way too often for Bryone's enjoyment. Aldwyn hardly had any stories of travel and adventure to share with him. Many, many less than any of the other parents he'd been able to talk to.
As much as Brone loved his father, he knew that wariness, waiting, and watching were not things he wanted for himself. He wanted to do. He wanted to be a part of something- anything. And one old doe looking after a bunch of foals wasn't going to stand between him and that excitement.
Thanks to a small handful of previous trips to the very border of Homewood, Bryone knew where he had to go.
He wondered if he would be able to catch up to them... Aldwyn still trumped him in size, but Bryone no longer stood on shaking legs too weak to support him. He'd grown at least enough to keep up a quick pace, usually ahead of his father, but he was sure Aldwyn would still be faster if the older buck ever did decide to break into a run... But they were traveling in a group, weren't they? Surely they wouldn't move faster than their slowest noulicorn.
And Bryone sure hoped he was faster than their slowest.
He sniffed the air to try and get his bearings, to try and figure out where they'd left from or which direction the group had headed, but the only scent he caught on the breeze was that of overbaked earth and dry dust. The Barrens were quite expansive, and they circled Homewood on almost all sides... It truly was foolish to even try and follow a path he couldn't see, particularly with the darkening sky overhead.
But that didn't matter. He knew which direction they'd gone, and he knew what they were after. A goal was all he needed, so disregarding all other rational thought, Bryone headed out into the Barrens.
Southeast, he was pretty sure... That was the direction his father's party had been headed. They'd been looking for caves, or- or anything that might lead them toward Wanderlust. More than his eyes or ears, Bryone kept his nose on alert, constantly sniffing for a familiar scent. Like he said, he'd practically been born here... Even if his memory of it was spotty, or rather nonexistent, it felt like his body should know innately what to expect of these lands. He could do this. He could. He would.
Following the thought that his body would simply know where it was going, Bryone allowed his legs to carry him of their own accord, through the evening and into dusk. When his gaze roved over the plains and spotted the only visible landmark as far as the eye could see, Bryone headed toward it.
Before he'd even reached Grandfather Tree's base, he was aware that this wasn't what he'd come out here for. He'd wanted to chase his father, but... Sure enough, there was only one place his body knew 'innately' out here. This was where he'd been left... Where he'd been found, and as Bryone approached, he looked up to the great oak's branches almost apologetically. "This isn't what I was hoping for," he admitted to Grandfather Tree with a wry smile. "Unless my father happened to pass by? You wouldn't know if they came this way, would you?"
Posted: Tue Mar 24, 2020 9:18 am
A still quiet passes over the plateau. Hushed silence that is almost deafening. Grandfather tree's roots seem to shift and reach out as Bryone approaches.
Choose one of the following prompts for Bryone's dream vision.
Quote:
An old doe is about to pass into the next life, but she has amassed a collection of wayfinder stones to help her seek out new life in the barrens. She asks every young noul to tell her a story of their greatest accomplishment in order to earn one of her stones. What do you do?
Quote:
A storm whips through Homewood, tearing new plants up by their roots and forcing the animals to huddle together for shelter. The cold bites and the rain pelts down hard, but there are many things in the forest to protect. What do you do?
Quote:
You are in Blackbriar Bog. Through the murky swamp water you spot something unusual sitting in the silt. The water is dangerous and you don’t know how deep it goes, but you’ve never seen this thing before. What do you do?
A storm whips through Homewood, tearing new plants up by their roots and forcing the animals to huddle together for shelter. The cold bites and the rain pelts down hard, but there are many things in the forest to protect. What do you do?
Bryone had been on a mission when he approached Grandfather Tree, and though he no longer stood before the great oak, he found that that was still the case. He was still on a mission, though now his hooves were moving, long limbs thundering through thick patches of mud and peat as he darted through the trees of Homewood. Though he didn't remember what had brought him to this moment precisely, his thoughts sang that they knew why he was here and what he was doing.
Rain and wind sang a booming chorus as it pelted against the canopy overhead and cold, heavy drops pelted through the leaves and smashed down in waves to the ground underneath. Homewood was besieged by a powerful storm. Branchs whipped as he galloped past, leaves blustered into and out of his vision, tiny cries echoed where creatures were being plucked from the ground and tossed into the air.
Bryone smashed a hood down to the ground to block the wind from a scuttle scale as it desperately tried to burrow beneath the mud. He caught the body of a squirrel as delicately as he could between blunted teeth as it was lifted from the trunk it tried to use as shelter. He twisted his head and released the creature to tangle itself up in his mane. "Stay with me!" He ordered briskly, tone high in exhilaration as he beckoned for the squirrel's pack to join its brethren in his mane. "The wind will not lift me. You'll be safe."
Somewhere a branch snapped. Wind tossed his mane, and he felt tiny claws drilling into his hide in their attempts to remain rooted. The scuttle scale he'd defended cinched to his upper leg, and Bryone was moving again, spurred on by the rapid pace of his heart.
His eyes darted back and forth, searching for other creatures at risk of having their shelter splinter or their bodies tossed into the air.
A clump of flowers zoomed past his nose, and Bryone winced, taking a sharp step forward as if to reclaim the battered foliage... But trees, shrubs, grasses could be regrown. Their remains could be found by even Apprentice noulicorns and brought forth to bloom again. Many of these even relied upon wind to spread their seed. They wouldn't feel the fear of a desperate bird trilling for help to save its life. Bryone wanted to gather everything that was close and shelter the plants and animals with the fortitude of his body, but he could not.
There were still scared and helpless creatures to save.
Disregarding the plant, he moved on. A bird's nest had been upended, eggs splattered among the roots below while a grieving mother songbird wailed at the tragedy. Bryone snuffed her away from the scene with a hoof, and she sought solace with the squirrels tangled in his mane.
The sloshing rapids of the stream had smacked a fish against the rocks, lifted it from the water, let the wind catch it, and had thrown it to flop uselessly near the banks, so close and so desperate to return to its home, but tired after only a short span of seconds. Bryone give it a soft warning, then nudged it back into the water with his nose. The wind whipped, and Bryone hunkered to take the battering. The creatures with him chattered their distress.
It wasn't enough for him to simply collect them to himself. There had to be a better way. "We'll find someplace," he assured quickly. "We'll find a place that can hold up to these winds and cold rain."
Because the smaller creatures with him would surely be suffering from the cold much more than he was. They couldn't be out here, fighting the elements as he could. They needed solace, somewhere that would keep them warm and dry and protected during the onslaught. Bryone snorted softly and shook his head lightly. He'd been all through Homewood as a foal, frolicking with others. And surely he knew of someplace-
He did. Feeling reinvigorated and altogether pleased with himself at the thought, Bryone took off.
It was only slightly uphill from the stream, a great mass of large entangled in a knot of trees that had tried to grow around and through them. They were sturdy, solid, and there were crevices large enough and covered enough to protect the creatures he'd collected so far. "Go on, go on," he encouraged tightly as he leaned near to allow the his burdens to find safety. "If you stay there and stay covered and stay together, you'll be safe!" He was sure of it. "I must go and continue the search. There will be others, so just stay there!" The last words were almost a bark of warning. He wouldn't be able to do anything for them if they got into trouble while he was away.
But to search was his purpose. To help was why they were here. Bryone couldn't remain a stagnant guard while others were out there, pleading for help. He had to continue the search. He would search until the storm had reached its end, until he had found all that he could. There was no rest for those who could lend their strength. He thought his father would be proud to know that he had done his best, at least...
Posted: Fri Mar 27, 2020 12:05 pm
Grandfather tree's roots settle and a soft red light swirls around Bryone, warm to the touch and smelly faintly of comfort.
Bryone has been bestowed with the Vivfy gift.
His initial ability is Mend.
the user mends one large broken bone or several smaller broken bones (eg. fingers) +1 vivify healing to an area
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