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 Posted: Fri Jun 05, 2009 11:51 pm
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2009 2:24 am
 An interesting pair of visitors came by today. Usually it isn't tolerable to let strangers into the house, as you never know what sort of things they happen to be carrying with them. Yes, I do mean that figuratively, as well as literally.
One was a woman, whose name was Alex, if I recall correctly. I don't understand the propensity for giving children the name of the sex opposite them. Perhaps it was short for Alexandra or somesuch. She did not look like a lesbian so it is beyond me to reason why she cares to use the moniker.
(tbc)
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Posted: Mon Jul 20, 2009 2:25 am
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 11:08 am
 [More Things in Heaven and Earth]
Technically speaking, he could have come out here at another time. Daylight, in particular, could have been more favorable for him to begin this excursion. Unfortunately, Milton had the burden of an infant on his hands, and happened to be just enough of a snappish b*****d that he didn't have any acquaintances to pawn the nuisance off on. He'd already scared away any of the babysitters that even mildly considered coming all the way out to his house, either by his looks or his neurotic inability to let any of them touch anything in his house. Adam, as sweet as he was, got some hesitant looks as well, and for decent reason. Ultimately, though, it was Milton who sent the potential nannies away. Either he made them too nervous or ended up in a screaming match with them, ending with Milton setting fire to the hem of their skirts or chasing them out of the house with his staff brandished like a club. And sometimes he came back to the house and had a good cackle about it too. This was payback for that.
As he trundled through the underbrush with a small will-o-whisp as his only guide, the wizard cursed. He cursed Adam, he cursed the woods, he cursed people, and he cursed himself for not being able to stand them when he needed to be able to use them. All of the above, in reality, had no particular unredeemable faults; he was just angry, and the best way for him to cope with that was to have a good tantrum in private. It made him strong, especially since he was facing the possibility of being lost out in the woods the whole night. By the powers above, he certainly hoped that wasn't the case, but to be truthful, he had been wandering for an hour now and had only succeeded thusfar in putting himself farther from home, and from the bearskin rug that he left at the entrance. He was too used to having that pelt fly him around everywhere he went, and it was more evident than ever in his heavy breath and the gradual shift of his weight from foot to staff. This was going to hurt to wake up to tomorrow.
Milton took a break against a sturdy oak, making sure the ground was relatively dry before he settled down upon the thick roots. The tree, disappointingly, did not object to this arrangement.
Now that he was stationary, he took the time out to study his surroundings. The trees grew big here, and though there seemed plenty of space between them, some had branches that grew intertwined with one another. He could spot the stars through their bows when he looked hard enough, and that was somehow comforting. He didn't feel quite so swallowed. With a simple gesture and a word or two, he sent the wisp pandering a little further into the wood, illuminating with soft phosphorous light the bristled floor and various flora. Something went streaking through the dead leaves just out of sight- a squirrel, or perhaps a mouse. Or maybe it was something not entirely domestic as that.
This forest was known to be full of magic. There were creatures that sought haven here that could be found otherwise in fairy tales and myths. Fairies, fae, ghouls, demons, and a number of other magical entities shared this place with the common animals, and because of this, the wood itself was influenced. Even now he could feel the force of magic like a blanket, and it humbled him. True, he was a wizard and diligent to the practice of controlling those forces, but this was far beyond the depth of what he could ever hope to master. He was more of a tepid servant than any sort of master in a place like this. If he let himself, he could even begin to fear it.
There was a purpose to this trek, of course. He was not an outdoors-man by any means, having been raised in glorious suburbia and sheltered most of his life behind brick walls and between the pages of books. Of course, he was predisposed to love the idea of places such as this, little pockets of magic in a world so simple. However, actually having to wade his way through it was another matter entirely, and he was not feeling anything but eager to leave as quickly as he could. He would find the creature of whose soul he wanted to extract, then he would go back to his home where he could soak his feet in hot water by the fire. He could go back to loving the forest.
After much debate, Milton had finally decided that a treant would be an excellent specimen to combine with the essence that had been delivered to him, courtesy of Lab 305. He had felt gobs of inspiration upon receiving the glowing moon rock from the lab's representative, that hot-blooded Italian woman who had come brandishing her own product of the lab's experiments, a Raevan. In hindsight, that was a wonderfully clever move of hers. Seeing the creature born of paradox had made him eager to make his own. What better combination, what more poetic union, than Heaven and Earth? Yes, he thought himself very witty for coming up with such an idea.
Drawing a long-stemmed pipe from his bag, he proceeded to puff on the cocktail of strange tobacco as a means to better pacify himself, the end lighting of its own accord as he inhaled. Charmed. He began to muse over the look of his Raevan, not for the first time.
It would be a female, perhaps, he thought. With silver hair and ivory branches for wings. She'd be clever but docile, because he couldn't stand women who were too loud and obnoxiously sexual. She could be confident, but not assuming, not one of those blithe feminists like he so often had to encounter in college. And yes, she would be his ward (daughter made him feel a little odd), for all intents and purposes, but it couldn't hurt to have something pretty sitting around the house to look at. Between he and Adam, there was more than enough ugly to go around. His image of her form was suspiciously like that of a certain tree in one of J.R. Tolkein's tales, but a boy could have his dreams. Some days, it was all he did have.
Milton didn't see the forces conspiring just behind the trees beyond, couldn't sense any sort of specific danger. He was prepared for attacks but didn't expect any sort of real confrontation during his time here. That was foolish of him. There were just as many monsters in this pretty, picturesque wood as there were docile creatures, if not more. Children had been stolen and eaten here- their bones still littered the floor of the meadows of flowers and tall grass he had passed through to get here, stuffed in the hollows beneath the roots of trees, just waiting to be found. Men and women, perhaps more powerful than Milton could ever amount to being, had met their untimely ends here and been hung across the branches of the trees like trophies. As they say, though, ignorance is bliss. Dismemberment is not.
He got to his feet after he was bored with the pipe, tucking it away again for a later date. Eyes followed him from all over the wood, and the song of the night persisted. The redhead shuffled his feet and unconsciously kept tempo with it as he continued his walk into the unknown, swinging his long staff ahead of him like a cane.
When a growl stole through his surroundings, the wizard froze. Azure eyes flickered here and there, trying to locate the source as he felt the hairs on his neck beginning to stand on end. Whatever it was, it sounded big. There were spells that he had memorized for this excursion specifically, and they swirled to mind now. He stood stiff as he heard shuffling in the underbrush, first to the left, then to the right.
He was beginning to feel a bit frightened.
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2009 1:34 pm
The beast, whatever it was, had yellow eyes.
It was hard to miss, the way they absolutely glowed with ethereal light, and left smears of color when the creature moved. The rest was shadow. It was smart, at least in a feral sense, and stayed out of the direct light of Milton's conjured will-o-wisp. The wizard could only guess as to its form, stilted and smooth, perhaps canine by the jerk of its steps.
Milton felt like his heart was in his throat, his senses attuned to a frequency higher than he'd ever felt before. It both entranced him and set him on edge, and his fingers twisted on his staff cagily. He was afraid that any sudden movements would spur the animal into attacking. Right now it was just stalking around him, and he felt inexplicably hunted, his thin lips quivering in the tight line he set them in. He began to think through a spell quickly, summoning the magic around him to come to his aid.
The beast snarled low again, like a challenge, as if it knew. However, it didn't attack, and Milton thanked his stars for small favors. He was spurred to action in the next moment as a plume of flame erupted at the end of his staff, channeling magic to ignite the air around it as he hefted it up and swung. He didn't know he was yelling until a few seconds into it, aiming his weapon for a place between the thing's eyes. He expected a crunch of bone, or maybe a crackle of flame burning skin.
He got a thump as the staff smacked the earth. Nothing there anymore.
Wheeling about, the wizard spun his staff in an arc, sending a trail of fire behind him as he searched for sign of the creature. He didn't see anything, but he did manage to unwittingly set a nearby bush on fire. Cursing loudly, he stepped away from the bush and began murmuring an incantation that would make oxygen stifle the fire. Then something hit him from behind, and he went sprawling onto the unforgiving moss and dirt.
There was hot breath down his neck as the beast snarled into his ear. Its feet were pressing into his back and side, unforgiving and baring small claws. This was absolutely no time to be thinking about how messy his robes were getting.
Milton waited for death, though he tried to bunch his shoulders and hide his neck. Because of that damnable useless wisp and the fire still going on his staff, he could see a flash of brown and black over his shoulder, a muzzle that twisted lips back to reveal a nasty set of sharp teeth. His stupid body was trembling hard beneath the thing's weight, and he tried to think of a better way he could have died than gobbled down by some entity wearing the skin of a mongrel.
And then, laughter. Barking laughter from above came and rang out in the crescendo that was Milton's pounding heart. The paws lifted, and the weight removed itself as his attacker stumbled away. The wizard blinked stupidly, before slowly beginning to sit up, spitting dirt from his mouth.
It was a dog. A doberman to be exact, much bigger than normal standards. And it was laughing, tongue lolling out between its serrated jaws. It was laughing at him! The redhead sputtered incredulously, making to grab his staff quickly from where it had fallen and stumbling to his feet. The laughing was now at a howling level, and the beast's sides heaved as it looked prone to flopping down and rolling.
"W-Wha- WHAT IS THIS?!" Milton demanded, his voice more of a screech than he cared to admit.
"Oh! Oh, lad, ye shoulda seen yer FACE! Ohhh, me sides are burnin', hah!" Not all of it seemed to come out of the dog's mouth, though it certainly moved like it was talking. Milton felt heat in his face, and knew that his face and ears must be very bright red. Anger, and embarrassment mingled in his gut, and he shook with rage, gripping it so much more readily than his fear.
"You CURR. BY THE POWERS THAT BE, WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"
"Wo-hooah now, tha's some powerful stuff! Look ah' yew, yer ahlrigh'! Just a wee bit o' a scare s'all. Yew need ta sett'l down now." The doberman gave one final huff as he seemed to get the last of his laughter out of him, beginning to step closer to Milton only to jump aside as a fireball came crashing toward him. The wizard was breathing hard still and trying to muffle it, eyes narrowed at the other. He was monstrously disappointed that the fireball hadn't hit it.
"Aw, c'mon. Ahm not goin' teh hurt yeh."
"What do you want?" The wizard snarled in turn, clinging to his staff subtly like a lifeline.
"Well, yer lost, aren't yeh?"
"And what's it to you?"
"Well, I come to lead yeh out."
"And? After that little show, I'm not sure if I trust you."
The dog seemed to smile then, lowering its lids slyly over its sallow eyes. "Lad, I dunnah think yew have much o' a choice."
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Posted: Thu Oct 22, 2009 8:08 pm
"So, what are you?" Two figures walked together through the forest under the light of a single glow, one human, one dog. The human made his steps halting and somewhat stilted, still a bit sore over the scare he'd been put through earlier. The canine, in the meantime, moved as smoothly as oil downhill, shifting with a grace that seemed to bely its looks.
"How do yeh mean?" The beast's accent was prominent, its voice faintly musical as it flicked its glowing irises up to regard the wizard. "Yeh cannah believe ahm jest a dog, eh?"
"No." Milton grunted shortly.
The doberman chuckled, a deep and ruddy sound that came from its thick barrel of a chest. However, it gave no reply.
"There aren't many dogs out there with glowing eyes and Scottish accents," Milton continued, his eyes narrowed somewhat suspiciously. Just why was he following this thing, anyway? It said it knew the way out of the forest. On the other hand, he had first thought it was going to kill him, the way it made such a big show of being a ferocious animal. And there was also the matter of gaining the soul of the treant. If he didn't have that, the trip would be for nothing.
"Irish." The beast told him, lips curled into a crooked imitation of a smile.
"Pardon?"
"Eht's an Irish accent, lad. I'm Irish."
"Whatever." The redhead huffed, having little interest for such things.
"Bit o' a narky b*****d, aren't cha?" But before Milton could answer him, he continued on, "I'm a faery from tha good ol' Emerald Isle. Tha marms told their wee gasúns time and again about all tha fae folk that roamed tha countryside, but none so wily as tha Púca."
"Pooka?"
"Tha too." A nod, "So tell me, wizard, what ahr ya doin' out here, s'pecially this time o' tha night? Do yeh not have a place to rest yer bones?"
"I was looking for something." Milton said tersely in reply.
"Ah..."
"What are YOU doing out here in this place? This isn't your world- so far as I know, Ireland still exists."
"Ah, now, funny yeh should be sayin' tha." Two black brow spots quirked, "It does. However, tha people there are done believin' in the likes of faeries, good or rotten. There are some who remember tha old ways, but it's not enough tah be subsistin' on, yeah?"
"I suppose..."
"Actually, the most o' the things here are in tha same mess. Tis a shame, but all the same, t'aint a bad place ta be stuck."
"So you know a lot of these... denizens?"
"Some of 'em, aye. Some o' 'em are right shiters, and I jest know of them." He paused as the human stopped, turning somewhat to face him, "Why?"
"I'm looking..." The redhead said hesitantly, "For a treant."
A sort of quiet descended between them then, and the mongrel's eyes flickered to the side.
"Well?" Milton asked, impatient and now nervous by the other's reaction. Did the thing know...?
"I knew a few in my time spent here, aye." The not-dog replied, giving a nod of its angular head. "But no more."
"How's that?" The wizard was beginning to feel an impending sense of doom.
"I'm sorry, lad," And it did sound sorry, a note of what might be sadness in its otherworldly tenor, "The last o' the treants died a year or so ago. Tis a sad thing. If you need tha help of a dryad..."
But Milton was swallowing thickly, feeling suddenly hollow with a surge of disappointment and panic. This quickly shifts to anger, as it's what the wizard is best at doing these days.
"What do you mean, dead? They're trees! They can live for centuries without so much of a bat of the eye! How?!"
"People, some. The rest caught a virus o' a sort," The Pooka explained mildly, suddenly sounding so much more tired as compared to its spritely attitude earlier, older. "Ate 'em up from the roots, ya see. True, tha treants were a hardy folk, and could go for ages. They were mortal, though, and still susceptible ta illness. A lot of trees went with 'em- twas their type of sickness."
"I..." Milton sputtered, before his gaze hardened with disbelief, "Take me to them. The last one."
There was a long stretch of silence between them, where the doberman seemed to hesitate, before finally nodding.
--
The Pooka hadn't lied. Having traveled deeper into the forest, they reached a place in the wood where things suddenly cleared out. It seemed wrong, after traveling so long through the mystical wood.
The treant, or what was left of it, lay on its side among many other remnants of trees in this bald patch of the forest. Milton almost didn't recognize it until the Pooka lead him around to its front. He could have been sick, were he a lesser man.
Its eyes were hollow sockets, the bark that shaped its lips parted with what might have been its final breath. The smell of rot filled his nostrils, less horrifying because of the familiar earthy texture. In the light of the wisp, bugs swarmed across the surface of the hollow shell, taking what they could and making homes burrowed deep into the body.
The Pooka was silent beside him for a while, head bowed as it sat on its haunches in a clear sign of respect. "She was a real lady, poor darlin'." It said eventually, turning its glowing eyes on Milton as the man pulled something out of his pouch. It looked like a little glass ball, and the man was starting toward the shell. "What's tha?"
"Shut up." The wizard replied, intelligently. He passed the soul capture jar over the top of the wood experimentally, and a little bit desperate. But there was nothing, and he choked on anger.
"Come away, lad. Whatever it is, the magic in that one has long gone."
Milton had to have another smoke from his pipe when they left the area, and the dog came to sit faithfully at his side.
"It wasn't supposed to happen this way." Milton told the Pooka, bitterly. He felt cheated somehow, and now he really knew that he had come out here for nothing. What in the world was he going to do now, now that there was no possibility of getting the soul he wanted? He'd have to think again, he supposed. But it was so inconvenient.
The beast was silent, as if waiting for him to continue. He didn't, so they just sat there for a while tensely, until the Pooka moved to lay his head in the man's lap. It surprised the wizard, nearly having him drop his pipe. A growl surged deep in his throat, but there was something totally disarming about those eery eyes below, ones that stared up with sorrow and maybe understanding. It was disgusting how much the thing seemed to want to comfort him. Before he knew it, he found himself tentatively scratching the mongrel behind its sharp ears and sighing smoke into the atmosphere.
"I suppose I should be getting home," He said, staring out at the forest and anywhere else besides the Pooka. "I've a ward I need to take care of. There's no telling how long his nanny can keep his attention, or if things aren't in chaos already." And by nanny he meant the rat, Celsior. Whoever said that rats were unfaithful animals...
"T'would be fer the best, I think." The Pooka replied, and together they got up. Suddenly, though, the dog went stock still as if paralyzed, muscles tensing up. Milton halted as well, looking down at the other, wondering was going on. But after a moment, the doberman shook his head and began to lead the way once more.
Milton didn't know what had happened- the most he had heard from the forest was a faint clinking sound, like metal chimes in the wind.
--
Milton wasn't fond of dogs, as a general rule. They were stupid in his eyes, more often than not, and extremely messy. However, after walking some time with the Pooka and exchanging the occasional tidbit or casual battle of wits, he decided this one could be considered likable even by his high standards. Actually, the Pooka was rather funny, and though he'd never admit it, he was leaving the forest with a much better attitude than when he had entered. The Pooka even knew the exact place where he had left his bearskin rug. Overall, it didn't seem to have been such a bad trek anymore.
He learned quite a few things about the wood on the way back, and about some of the different inhabitants. Apparently the Pooka was a friend to a good handful of fairies and spirits, as well as trueblooded animals. According to the Pooka, they did have some unicorns, and a pack of gryphons that came seasonally. The last of the dragons had moved on to the cliffs in Gaia, where hunting and privacy suited it better. As far as people went, well, they were always getting lost out here, but Milton was the first wizards it had to lead out (with much grumbling objection from the man himself)! Despite its looks, the Pooka was a benevolent fae creature, and usually considered itself responsible for wayward travelers, especially children.
"There are too many a sprite that like ta lead 'em to loss around here and then are done with 'em. Never want ta clean up after themselves, jest figure they can let 'em wander about thick as a ditch."
And he decided the accent wasn't as annoying as he originally thought it to be.
Milton sighed with relief as he began to see a break in the trees far ahead, and the shape of the gibbous moon beginning to duck over the side of the world. It'd be morning soon, and if he was lucky, he might be able to get in a few hours before Adam started making noises for him. He really couldn't thank the Pooka enough, and was in the process of trying to think how to convey it properly. Milton was not used to having anything done for him without exchange, and not used to saying many hearfelt things either. He wanted to tell the Pooka that, perhaps, they could meet again at a better time. He wanted to ask its name.
There was a faint rattle among the trees, the clank of metal and creek of wood. He paid little mind at first, as this was a strange place, but the Pooka was tightened again, its ears flat against its head as it looked to the wizard.
"Milton," It growled, "Git out--"
But something hit the wizard from behind, weight that crushed him into a position in the dirt. Only this time, there was a roar in his ear, the only warning before pain flared hot through the junction of his shoulder and neck. Milton seized with panic, bucking beneath the creature with a harsh yell, and was only rewarded with claws tearing into his back. The jaws were digging deep into his shoulder, and he could feel them hit the bone. He came to the startling realization that the next move would be to rip his throat out. His body had gotten there before him, a bony hand twisting in thick, matted fur over his shoulder, yanking an ear ruthlessly, but overall ineffectual.
He was going to die.
And then, suddenly, the weight and jaws were torn from him, and a howl arose from off to the side. He was stunned for the moment, feeling blood pooling thick and hot from his wounds, and the threat of shock beginning to settle over him. Somehow, he was able to turn his head, bring his hand up to clamp over the flowing wound in his neck.
It was a wolf, or what appeared to be a wolf. It seemed off, almost, and too large. Leathery wings lined with spines beat the air as it quarreled with something, and metal chains wrapped round and round its body. Its jaws dripped with blood- his own. And it was fighting, striking out with forepaws and jaws, a dark mass, held away from the killing stroke by some shadowed force.
The Pooka. A flash of teeth and horrible snarls, it pinned and tore chunks out of the wolf-thing's chest, spoke a language that Milton couldn't even hope to comprehend. However, the monster would not be sated- a smack of its massive paw sent the Pooka flying to the side momentarily. It came for Milton, chains rattling in foreboding cadence.
The wizard went scrambling for his staff, decided it was too late, and cast a spell right then and there. Rope appeared from nowhere and bound the beast's mouth, made to wrap around its entire head. It kept coming, but by then, the Pooka had recovered and took it from the side. The ropes snapped somewhere in the process of the fight, but Milton had his staff now, and he was shaking harder than everywhere, feeling sick, hoping the Pooka knew what it was doing.
"Go!" He heard it shout, muffled beneath the howls of the beast. The redhead was beginning to move on autopilot, wanting nothing more than to flee, flee, flee. He staggered to his feet and fell, suddenly overcome with a fit of dizziness, probably induced by the blood loss. Breathing hard, he tried to gather his strength, watching the beast redouble its efforts. Up until now, it had just been trying to get to Milton, to finish what it had started. Now it turned on the Pooka, slavering jaws tearing away flesh that oozed shadow, and whipping its head side to side. His guide cried in pain, flung like a rag-doll a ways away. Then the wolf-thing set in for the kill.
The Pooka tried to get up, but it was clearly slowed by the attack, and probably dying. It looked on as the creature came for it, holding its head high, showing teeth. Milton swung with all his might, and felt his staff connect with bone. The wolf was knocked to the side momentarily, yowling in pain, but the redhead wasn't thinking of the consequences as he swung again and again, willing all his strength into his arms. It was dead and he kept swinging until he couldn't, heedless of the gore that spattered his robes. Then he dropped the staff and sobbed, unable to control it.
"Mil--"
These tears were not his. He did not want them. Still, they streaked hot down his face and between his fingers, caused by the pure shock of the situation. Heavens above, why, when he needed these powers the most, was he so weak? The voice snapped him out of it momentarily, and he looked over to see the form of the doberman flop beside him, pitifully. He sniffed and reached out for the mongrel, fingers over soft, slick fur until it found the wound in the other's chest.
"What the hell did you do?" He demanded in a harsh whisper, feeling his fingers come free with blood. At least, it should have been blood. It was so black in the light, and felt cool to the touch. The Pooka just whimpered quietly in response, tried to set its head on Milton's knee. The readhead unconsciously helped it, pulling the ragged form onto him as best he could. "Are you...?"
"'fraid so, lad..." It managed, in a ludicrous state of repose. It looked up at Milton under drooping black lids. "This is the end o' the road fer me."
"No." Milton's denial was practically tangible. He drew his staff toward him, trying to channel the magic. He didn't know many healing spells, never had any real use for them, but...
"Let me die," The shadow creature sighed, as if knowing his thoughts exactly, "Me feet have been a-wanderin' long enough. If I had to choose a way ta go..."
"You b*****d. You b*****d....!"
A chuckle, and a cough as the Pooka gurgled on its own blood. Milton went for his pouch.
"Wha's tha yeh... got thar, lad?"
"Shut up."
It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, so purely selfish of him. He drew the soul bottle out and pressed it to the canine's temple. Instantaneously, the yellow glow of its eyes died, and there seemed to be a sigh as the soul carried itself into the glass. It swirled there, a ruddy black shadow, but for a moment it was very bright as it filled. The body in his lap seized momentarily, then went lax. Milton pushed it away- revolted and angry. How could it do this to him? That curr!
He had to get home, had to fix himself up. He couldn't stand, but he could crawl, hands and knees as he tried to reach the exit of the wood, his stolen prize sunk deep in his satchel once more. His vision began to blur, though. He had lost so much blood...
But he couldn't die. He couldn't. The wizard cursed virulently.
Then he passed out.
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Posted: Fri Oct 23, 2009 4:19 am
When he woke up, it was morning in the forest. Light filtered in through the branches overhead, and everything around him seemed to have a sort of golden glow to it. Something moved nearby, and his eyes flickered unconsciously to it. He stiffened, seeing the visage of a monster, brown and boney. He coughed sporadically, and the force kicked his head back into place.
"So you're up now," The voice was warm and lilting, and Milton cracked his eyes open reluctantly. He'd had enough of monsters to last him a decade.
However, what appeared overhead was not a monster at all, but a young man. He was beautiful. Soft brown hair grew long around the man's face, wavy and slightly curled at the ends. Despite a few dirt spots smudging the arch of one of his cheeks, his skin was tan and perfect, and his eyes were an interesting honey color. Milton felt very threatened.
"Where is the..." The wizard croaked, dryly, turning his head to look for the monster. Had he imagined it?
"The Pooka?" The stranger supplied, pushing a small wooden bowl to Milton's lips unbidden. He was drinking it before he could protest or even think that it might be poison. It was good, if bitter, a bit like grape juice. He hadn't known he was so thirty until he was drinking it, and then he couldn't stop. When it was all gone, he coughed again, nodded faintly. Except he knew.
"He's passed on to greener pastures, I'm afraid. Be careful..."
Milton sat up somewhat, flinching when he felt fur beneath his hands. He looked down and realized he was laying on a pelt- his bear rug, to be exact. He was naked. Giving an undignified sputter, he quickly made to try and cover his pale form, seeing only awkward angles and his webbed toes. The other man laughed, causing him to glare sharply.
"How dare you--!"
"How dare I what?" The stranger challenged with an amused flash in his eye, arching a brow, "Save your life? I'm so sorry! You were covered in all sorts of blood, and I couldn't get to your wounds, so I took that dress off of you."
"They're robes," Milton objected petulantly, although he felt somewhat mollified. And all the more suspicious of this character. "What did you do with them?"
"Burned 'em."
"WHAT?"
The other man was laughing now, just a little, but he didn't try to hide it. Milton's frown got even deeper.
"Wow, I didn't think you had enough blood to get that red. Potion must be working," And then, a little slyly, "Wow, it's all the way down to your chest..."
The wizard cleared his throat, vowing to hex the living hell out of this character just as soon as he found his staff. Since he had supposedly 'saved his life', he wouldn't have to die, but...
"I saw what you did last night."
That made things go cold quickly in the wizard, and he narrowed his eyes at the other, who simply tilted his head. The man was dressed in forest ranger clothes, worn from constant use. Milton doubted he ever washed or changed out of it. However, thankfully, the wild man did not smell.
"What's that?" He asked edgily, trying to sound casual.
"You took his soul," Came the reply, but the man held up a hand as Milton straightened, "I think it was very noble of you."
"...You do."
"Yeah. He was suffering, and you ended his pain. The soul doesn't need to suffer the agony of the body in death, at least I think. It was a kindness..." The man's full lips pursed thoughtfully, and it was very clear he meant it. "My name is Byron."
"Well... Byron... Were you there for the fight last night?"
"Some of it."
"And you didn't see fit to help?" His tone was venomous, his lip curled somewhat in distain.
"I did help," Byron replied smoothly, gesturing to Milton's body as a whole. "I saved your life."
"So you've said." With one hand still grasping the rug, he reached up to touch his neck gingerly. Sure enough, he felt indents in the skin, but no pain. No holes. It was a scar, which he turned his head to see. Luckily, most of his outfits would cover it up.
"The beast's teeth usually prevents clotting, so I couldn't save you without some scarring. I figured you wouldn't mind."
A grunt. "What was that thing?"
"The Pooka? Or the Kludde?"
"Kludde..."
"Kluddes are monsters. There are a few that live in these woods. You're actually very lucky to be alive- a human alone cannot kill one. If you are the prey of one, you would be lucky to see them coming at all. Only the chains about its body give it away."
Milton recalled those chains, the slight tinkling he heard before the whole thing started and the way they rattled during the fight. He sighed, raking his hand down his face. He didn't think he'd ever be able to forget that ordeal for the rest of his life. "I see."
"Here, drink this."
"What is it?"
"...It's water. My, you're cranky, aren't you?"
"Ever since I can recall. The lack of clothes isn't helping your case."
"That's a little adorable."
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all." Byron shrugged innocently, leaning back casually with a sigh. "The Pooka was a friend of mine. I'm sorry he had to die that way."
"Do you live here?"
"Yeah, I do. I kinda don't have the cash to be anywhere else," He smiled, almost sheepishly. It was sickening how handsome he was. "Besides, I'm a free spirit."
"Hmph. Vagrant."
"That's the idea. Just a vagabond, doing what I can..."
"What do you want from me?"
"What's that?"
"You saved my life. I do not like keeping attachments to others, especially when it comes to favors. So. What would you have of me to make this acquaintance null?"
"My friend's last effort was put into saving you. It would be a waste if I didn't help you out."
"Very well then..."
"Wait."
Milton arched his brows at Byron smoothly, his gaze hard. He knew it, though. There was always something.
"...Anything?"
"Do not play with a wizard, boy."
"Alright. I want a place to live. When you leave, I want you to take me with you."
A long silence stretched between them, and Milton felt his temper begin to flare anew.
"That's impossible."
"Why? You don't have a home?"
"I don't want YOU there." He snarled in return.
"Why?"
"Because I hate you."
"No offense, Mister Wizard, but you don't even know me."
"Exactly. And even if I did, I prefer to live alone."
"I told you what I want."
"And I told you that it isn't happening!"
"A few days of shelter isn't worth my saving your life?"
"No." Milton said bluntly, cold. He would not be coerced into catering to this ruffians needs, or anyone else's for that matter.
"Wow..." Byron frowned, and yet somehow it wasn't convincing. "Well... how do you suppose you'll be getting home?"
"Simple, you see, I can--" He stopped, coming to a realization.
Byron batted his eyelashes.
Milton looked down at himself, naked beneath the rug. He couldn't very well fly like this.
"So... How much are my clothes worth to you, then?"
And that was how Milton ended up flying home dressed in frazzled (but quite comfortable, actually) forester clothes with a naked young man clinging to the back of the rug, peering down at the countryside as it swirled by.
"You know," Byron shouted over the wind, having the audacity to come closer to speak to the wizard. Milton was keenly aware of the man's naked front pressing into his back, "I think I feel a draft."
Milton's scowl was endless. What in the world had he just agreed to?
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Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 4:12 am
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Posted: Sat Jan 09, 2010 4:14 am
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Posted: Mon May 24, 2010 11:40 am
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 9:43 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 9:44 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 9:55 pm
And maybe another solo will go here
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 10:10 pm
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 11:03 pm
 With LuLu, Vyn, and Anastacia-Lab305- LuLu LuLu tilted her head to the side. Brown tipped ears bobbled curiously as she gazed at the scenery around her through the new angle. Not even a second passed by before she was contorting her neck in another direction in an attempt to take in everything there was to see. This was her first trip to a botanical garden and it was proving to be exciting in its own unique way. It was not comparable to some sort of daring thrill ride. However, the quaint and picturesque setting had its own little surprises in store for the rabbit. To be honest, LuLu preferred the allure of nature over any roller coaster. It made her feel at peace. Lulu gave a soft gasp as she noticed a few crimson blooms climbing up a wall to her left. She immediately floated over to lavish the flowers in attention. She was pleased that she had managed to lose her rule crazy guardian amongst the foliage. Sometimes things were more fun without Josh. Her fingertips reached out to pet the velvety buds despite the sign that read “Do not touch”. Bloody Anubis It really hadn't been his intention to leave his chaperone behind. Byron was a nice man, after all, comparatively much more positive than his man. Virgil had been around long enough now to realize what a favor was, and if saving him from the trauma of grocery shopping didn't fall into that category, then he didn't know what did. He should have been on his best behavior today, and now he felt sorry... and very, very itchy.
The doglike Raevan sneezed for what must have been the fifth time in a solid two minutes, violently and unrestrained near a multicolored collection of snap dragons. His hair, normally an inky black, was dusted with leaves and golden pollen from the hedge he went crashing through not a minute prior. It was a move that had sent his senses into overdrive, allowing his prey (a tiny little chipmunk no bigger than his palm) to escape into the nearest thick foliage while he all but sneezed himself undone.
After recovering and swabbing his nose of the blasted yellow dander, he was left staring at a wide and near-empty stretch of well-manicured flower implements. A cursory glance of his surroundings brought him nothing right away, for the plants here were allowed to grow to the level of one's eyes and higher so long as they stayed looking trim. The creature that had attracted his attention before (and sent him crashing through the garden single-mindedly after it) was nowhere to be found, and when he tried to sniff for Byron--
He sneezed again.
"Shite."
Needless to say, after the first time Virgil had accidentally decimated Milton's study, the wizard felt no further need to censor himself and Virgil, young and impressionable as he was, quickly expanded his vocabulary.
Laying his pointed ears back against his head, the Raevan issued an instinctual keening sound from the hollow of his throat. Disappointment. Since no one was there to console him, or otherwise scold him, like they usually were, the phase passed quickly and he found himself beginning to float along the alley toward the garden wall. Perhaps if he could find a way to the top...
It was then he noticed another. In fact, he very nearly ran right into her when he turned the corner, having seen some ivy branching up the wall. "Whoop, sorry!" -Lab305- LuLu LuLu’s attention was promptly drawn from her flowery friends when she heard a crash erupt a few feet away. Her lips pursed perplexedly as she saw a wayward chipmunk scurry past her. She had no idea what had created the cacophonous sound and part of her was afraid to find out. Her ears perked up to follow the noise. She felt her skin crawl as a low moaning growl hissed out from behind a bush. The female frei tried to swallow the lump forming in her throat and managed to push forward in her exploration. She hugged her body to a wall of ivy and was about to turn the corner when she smacked face first into another raevan. The girl let out a soft squeak and held her bumped nose. It was not actually hurt, but more of a reaction of surprise. It took a moment for LuLu to fully take in who she had ran into. Lavender eyes wandered over Virgil’s body before they came to rest on his face… then his ears. LuLu breathed an airy sigh and felt her face flush slightly with excitement. She stated rather bluntly, “You have wonderful ears.” She had obviously accepted his apology. Bloody Anubis It was a strange statement to be sure. Golden eyes blinked in return, but said ears had a mind of their own and were in the process of perking curiously. The careful frown he'd been nursing in response to her obvious recoil (and injury?) gave way to a lopsided grin.
"Well thank ya, lass," There was a very soft lilt of an accent to his voice, soft and warm. "Suppose they do as they're meant. Guess you'd know with the likesa yours." He bowed his head in the direction of the long, lapine appendages jutting from her flaxen hair.
"You're like me!" He soon said, just as obvious, after realizing her lack of anything more tangible than a torso. It was hard to say how delighted he was, but if he had a tail, it should be wagging right about now. "Do you know what they call that? Cluck? Cluck." The words he was looking for were 'coincidence' and 'luck', but he very obviously had some brushing up to do yet. -Lab305- LuLu LuLu’s eyes followed his silky ears and soon enough her own fluffy appendages were bobbling in time with his. She enjoyed watching the two black attachments. A few words crossed her mind as she observed them: sleek, smooth, and sharp. They were a stark contrast to her ears. It always amazed her how the Lab was able to produce such a variety. A delighted smile graced LuLu’s lips for a moment before he remembered that she was, after all, taking part in a conversation. The girl nodded in affirmation causing her pigtail to shift off her shoulder. “Thank you Mister. We are alike. Except,” she paused when she noticed the dusting of pollen the male was covered in, “You are dirtier.” It was not met as an insult. Rather, the frei was simply stating a fact, almost like a mother would. A slim hand reached out and brushed a few of the offending granules away into the breeze, “Much better. I do not think it is cluck,” the girl ignored the slip in wording in favor of giving the dark male a small curtsy which indicated the start of her introduction, “I am LuLu. You are?”Bloody Anubis The grin grew wider as she called him dirty, playful and a bit mischievous and not at all ashamed. As she reached for him, he flinched faintly, far too used to dodging a reproachful smack from his man. Once he realized she was just trying to brush him clean, though, he bowed his head and let her, those jet black ears folding back against his head instinctively to avoid any battering. When she pulled back, he shook his head doggishly to remove the rest of the leaves and pollen.
"My name's Virgil," He replied, and mimicked her curtsy amusedly. He wasn't trying to mock her- he just thought this was the appropriate gesture in the proper greeting of another Raevan. Like the greeting for cats was to stare or puff up as large as they could get, or the birds twittered and clacked their beaks at one another.
"Did you come here all by yerself, LuLu?" -Lab305- LuLu LuLu twitched her nose as the last few patches of pollen flew off of Virgil in a great cloud yellow dust that threatened to excite the allergies of anyone within a three foot radius. The frei clutched her sensitive nostrils and fought feebly to hold back an onslaught of sneezes that threatened to escape. The girl puffed out her cheeks in one last weak attempt before she was forced to cave into the building pressure underneath her grasp. She managed to survive with minimal damage, sneezing only two or three times. The rabbit looked back up at darker raevan with watery eyes. She chirruped as she wiped away the offending tears, “Pleased to meet you Mister Virgil.”LuLu blinked curiously and replied, “No. My guardian is… somewhere.” A ghost of a smirk curled her lips upward as if she was pleased that she had misplaced the boy. A finger came to rest on her cheek, “Why are you here Mister Virgil?” as an afterthought she added, “Do you know what was making noise earlier? It sounded scary.” Bloody Anubis He began to chuckle at her funny face and sneezing fit, except soon enough he, too, was choking on his folly. Oh, that golden dust was terrible! Terrible!
"I came with my friend," He managed after the dust had settled, so to speak. One dark hand lifted up and combed his hair thoughtlessly back into place, and he flapped his hand distastefully when it came back with a few lingering pollen specks. "Sound? Hmm... Was it the little brown creature, I wonder? Fuzzy brown, rattish thing. I was following it 'til I got through that bush o'er yonder and the sneezin' got me. Bless ya, by the by."
Chatty boy for a young thing, that was for certain. "And what's with tha 'mister'? It's just Virgil." -Lab305- LuLu LuLu made a mental note to avoid pollen next time she saw it. It was definitely one of the more unpleasant things she had experienced. As much as she enjoyed the outdoors, the frei had yet to experience many of its “horrors”. The rabbit felt another sneeze churning within her but she quickly suppressed the urge and continued to talk. “Thank you.” Her ears perked inquisitively. LuLu hid a smile behind her hand. She was amused by this ravean. His accent was engrossing. The rabbit found that it a welcome challenge to sift through his various, peculiar sayings. LuLu gasped as he mentioned the chipmunk. She had seen the furry creature fleeing for its life, but it had never crossed the frei’s mind that such a small critter could have made so much of a ruckus. The girl's eyes widened in surprise at Virgil’s next comment. She had never actually met anyone before who had been dissatisfied with her calling them mister. LuLu shifted uncomfortably and let her fingers cross in worry. The rabbit hoped she had not offended. The gears in her mind began turning as she tried to concoct some sort of way to make it up to her new acquaintance. She went with the first half formed idea that popped into her head, “I think I know where the chipmunk went. Do you want me to show you?”
Bloody Anubis Virgil didn't look offended. He wasn't. He simply thought she had misheard him when she told him her name. The terms "Mister" and "Miss" had not been charged into his etiquette as of yet, and if they had, he had forgotten them. Milton was not a polite man, even if he was well-spoken. The most he had been taught as far as the rules of engagement went, he was not to swear nor was he allowed to touch a person without permission. For the most part, he respected these, but LuLu had already broken the barrier for the latter with brushing off his hair. So it must be okay to touch her, if he was curious.
"Aye!" He brightened at her offer like she'd offered to tell him an important secret. "If yer not busy... What were ya doin', anyway?" He sidled up into her personal space, craning his head to sniff her curiously. "Touchin' flowers, eh? Wouldn't suggest chewin' on 'em." Because that was totally what her first thought would be; it was for him, after all. -Lab305- LuLu LuLu’s ears shot up enthusiastically as the new raevan approached her. Lavender orbs glittered with more and more excitement as he drew closer. She did not know what behavior to expect of the male. However, Virgil had not proven himself to be dangerous so most of the rabbit’s defenses had lowered for the time being. Plus, raevans with animal-esque features had a way of piquing the rabbit’s interests. If it served to put her new acquaintance at ease, LuLu would bend a few of her own finicky rules. Touching was allowed. However, sniffing was unexpected. She trembled as she felt his exhaled breath ghost over her shoulders. LuLu nodded firmly, “I was. I like flowers when they do not make me sneeze.” She had discovered the latter part of that statement today. LuLu crinkled her nose at Virgil’s next statement. The frei had never been rough enough with the elegant foliage to stir up pollen let alone contemplate eating it. The last time she had sampled anything from nature was during the Lab’s virus break out. To be honest, the flavor of wild berries was the last thing she recalled from that experience. “I am not busy now. I will show you where it went.” The girl’s eagerness returned tenfold as she took Virgil’s hand in her own. She bobbled up and down as she began directing to a tree, perhaps the largest one in the facility. Her finger jutted upwards to trace along the enormous boughs hanging above them. “I think he went up there.”Vyn -- LAB305 Day trips had become increasingly sparse as the winter months had drawn in... The flower was simply not comfortable in cold weather. It bit at her extremities, causing her petals to curl and eventually fall in slithers of red and sent shivers down her half formed spine. It had been around this time last year that she had been going through the rehoming process and in addition to withdrawing from everyday life and socialising due to the weather it was also a time for self reflection. It was pleasant to have some solitude, remembering the past in the sanctity of her room. However, today she had chosen to go out, enjoy the crisp air and take a day to stroll around the botanical gardens... (And if the cold became too much she could always dip into the heated greenhouses that were home to the exotic plants.)
To her surprise there were actually quite a lot of flowers still blooming and raising their jolly brightly hued faces to the dull winter sun. Evidently not all pretty plants were as temperamental as she in regards to the chill. Floating past the welcoming beds of flowers she followed a winding path into a small wooded area – this opened out onto another cultivated expanse of neatly arranged flowers with labels informing the public of their names and stubby sign keeping any children away from touching them. For a few moments her attention was grabbed by the names of the flora – one line of English followed by a strange language she didn’t recognise – but a very common distraction quickly caught her eye.
Two raevans were just a tad further along. One was familiar, though the rose could not think where the distinctive animal ears featured in her memory, and the other was a complete stranger. Never the less she did as she always did when she saw one of her kind in public; she approached.
“Hello... What are you looking at?” She inquired, following their gaze into the tree with her amber hued eyes. Ravina Loki To the spider queen, it was positively frigid for November. Practically all the trees were bare and when the wind blew in an icy gale it carried along an impossibly infinite number of leaves that more than once had managed to get caught up in the spiral of her ribbon. Not only did the wind leave her chilled to her core and feeling the onset of cold sickness but when a gust went up the gaping maw at the base of her black peacoat it left her with picking brittle patches of crumbling brown out of her personal space. She should feel violated (and at times she did) but today it was necessary to go out into the world at large and the cold that encompassed it. She was hungry and heat just wouldn't cut it.
She was still wary of the invisible source of nourishment and since she had taken a liking to the source of food that fueled her more than heat, that was what she wanted right now. A five minute staring contest between herself and her guardian occurred - the man who had taken a personal day waiting for her to speak and the hungry Frei waiting for him to ask - but Zeke gave in long before she did and, with the same smile he always wore with her, politely asked what she wanted.
"I'm hungry." Was all she had said to him and the look upon her face told him that hovering near the heater or the stove top was not going to be an option. Zeke had questioned her wanting to go out, saying it was in fact quite cold today and that he knew what cold did to her, but even with that in mind she had made her resolve - she wanted what she wanted and was going to have it. The vet had chuckled and asked her for a moment of thinking time as to figure out where to take her that would have what she sought. His clinic was an option but he was sure treating his place of work (and by extension people's pets) like an all you can eat buffet wouldn't be smiled upon and luckily for him Anya wasn't in the mood for rabies or canine parvo, though she didn't express anything while she gave him his moment.
"Other than animals," Zeke had mused, "plants would be our best bet." And it was then he grabbed the Durem Times as though struck by a sudden epiphany. He flipped through the pages of the newspaper at a speed that was clearly not reading, only stopping when he gave a loud "Ah ha!" and slapped the paper down on the coffee table with one finger pressed to an advertisement.
"The Botanical Gardens. Something's bound to be sick in there, Anya."
And that's where they were now. Anastacia was looking out the backseat window as Zeke came around the front of his nice sports car to open her door, readying herself to dash out as fast as she could to the double glass panes just beyond the parking lot before the cold had time to grip her. She had done this a dozen plus times before and as Zeke came to a stop before her exit out, she saw him preparing for just that out of the corner of one navy blue eye. He fixed his gloves, she made sure hers were on fully and that the scarf around her throat and lower half of her face was tight. Her peacoat was buttoned all the way up and the matching ear warmer headband was in place with the legs of her crown both folded and tucked down. The door's latch was pulled and the door opened up wide.
She sprang.
"Hey, Anya, wait! I have to pay for you to get in!"
Zeke's cry was lost to the leaf strewn air. When the door had opened, Anastacia threw herself out with the warm air that came from the car's front console vents and moved as fast as she could to get from point A to fog-hidden point B. Her rune flickered with hunger and the creep of cold that quickly pushed any heat out of the way and as she got midway, Anastacia could feel her body starting to grow heavy and the exposed portions of her face growing chilled. Her thoughts cried out "No!" and she pushed herself onward; not caring about cars, leaves, Zeke, or anything else but those two doors that she knew were there as well as the heat and nourishment beyond them.
As she flew forward as fast as she could - which was becoming slower and slower despite the relatively short distance - the doors soon came out of the haze and into crystal clear clarity. Anastacia made no whoop or cry of triumph, but instead gave a low hiss of what could have been victory through her clenched teeth. Her purple glove covered hands extended and grasped both door handles at once, pulling them both and immediately moving into the gap they created, spurned onward as heat and humidity touched her face like a breath of fresh air.
"Made it," came a voice only the spider queen could hear from the area around her covered breast as the doors shut behind her.
"Naturally." Was the haughty but pleased sounding reply to her hidden pet, Anastacia immediately righting herself and putting that composed, controlled air back on. Dignified now, as always. She moved inward just as fast - to get away from the doors that still felt cold despite the wet warmth that now permeated the area - only pausing to cast her unfriendly eye to the startled woman working the ticket counter and point over her shoulder to the man she knew would be coming in behind her. She gave no other sign nor word and with nothing but a shiver to clear the cold from her ribbon and covered rune the virus Raevan moved into the garden, already smelling something sick and delicious waiting for her around the bend. Bloody Anubis Virgil eagerly followed his new companion of sorts, not minding the tether of their clasped hands; it was welcome warmth. When they reached the tree, he craned his head back as far as it could go, only to jump slightly when a new cadenced voice sounded from nearby. He hadn't seen the shadow-laced female coming, nor had his nose managed to pick her up. She was, after all, just another rose in the garden.
Still, once he saw her, he greeted her with a warm smile like she was a long lost friend. Another Raevan!
"We're looking for the monk. I chased him up the tree." He informed her. "You can help, if you like. I don't want to chew on him or eh-na-thin'; he challenged me." -Lab305- LuLu LuLu was startled as she heard a voice pipe up from behind her and Virgil. The frei had not noticed anyone there earlier. It was not often that a person was able to get past her without being detected. Keen ears shifted backward and acted like two funnels as they attempted to channel any other noises. It struck her as peculiar that the recognizable crinkling of footsteps or shifting of feet was nowhere to be found. The sudden intrusion was not the only thing that concerned the rabbit though. She was even more stunned by the familiarity of the speaker’s voice. The tone was smooth and clear; yet, it still rubbed LuLu the wrong way. It almost made her skin crawl. The raevan could not place just why she was becoming so ruffled by a mere voice. The frei turned around to investigate the trespasser further but quickly found herself frozen in place. When LuLu’s eyes fell upon Vyn she could not help but be petrified, as if the flower had placed a spell on the rabbit. A mix of emotions flew into LuLu’s throat like butterflies trying to escape from her stomach. She almost choked on the vile feeling. Her small hands clenched and unclenched as she debated just what to make of the situation. Her senses of fight and flight were raging an epic war within her. Part of the girl wanted to tear into the shadow raevan right then and there. Nevertheless, the more cautious part of the rabbit wanted to avoid a conflict that could end in defeat. LuLu could have lived a perfectly happy life never seeing this particular raevan again. Painful memories resurfaced along with feelings of guilt, sadness, and hatred. The multiple moods preformed a sickening tango as they jostled about in her chest. The rabbit’s shoulders began to tremble as she fought to control herself in front of her new acquaintance. Unfortunately, it was a losing battle. Lavender eyes glistened with unshed tears and met Vyn’s own golden irises with an unreal intensity. LuLu only had one word to say to the other frei . It came out as a muffled sob, “Murderer.”Vyn -- LAB305 Initially being greeted by the dark lad's enthusiasm made Vyn smile and a pleasant perfusion of words had been forming on her petal shaped lips, but, mirroring the soul from which she had been born from the pair that she had stumbled upon held a viscous thorn. The femme with striking ears and bold tribal colours lacing her skin with markings that spoke of exotic climes and cultures did not bear any kindness towards Vyn. Instead, for the awkward moments of silence before she did speak, she seemed to be brimming with agitated nerves – her eyes struck with a fearful shell shock. In fact Vyn was about to ask if something was the matter when the knife of the rabbit's verbal assult slipped painfully between her ribs, jarring at her emotions.
Murderer? What was the other frei insinuating?! Vyn had never hurt anyone really... Maybe once or twice in her life her powers had got out of control and hurt someone, but never killed. And yet, as the lavender droplets quivered over her she couldn't help but feeling as though the girl's accusation had rung true on some level or another. Why couldn't she remember? This void in her mind gave her a familiar sinking feeling. The fel virus? She shuddered slightly, though she tried to play it off as if it were a chill breeze. “Sorry... I... Don't know what you're talking about.” She splayed her wings slightly, a display of her agitation, before breaking eye contact with the other – her strangely unexplained guilt was plain to see on her face but she was now looking up into the boughs of the tree. Maybe she could find this monk and escape confrontation.
“Where did he go?” She mumbled. She wasn't one hundred per cent sure what she was actually looking for... The tree was one of the types that did not shed it's leaves in winter and thus she couldn't pick out anything amongst the rustling leaves. She assumed it was some kind of creature - a tree dwelling one at that – but besides birds and the occasional squirrel she unsurprisingly hadn't got an extensive knowledge of the fauna that resided in Gaia's treetops. Looking up at the worn trunk did bring back shadowy memories, sketchily drawn images, of the more feral part of her infection... What had she done? The question was now looming over her like a heavy oppressive weight.
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