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 Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 2:27 pm
 The sky above the forests of Noctua had grown dimmer, and what would have been painted skies were shrouded with in-coming rain clouds who blushed dusty red and orange. There would be no stars when the sun fell behind the horizon, and a steady pouring of rain would soon begin to dance upon the boughs of trees. However, even with the thunderheads rolling in, two voices from the fringes of the Deep Wood didn't sound all too concerned. "Thees good... flow'r? Right?" "Let's have a look." The rusty orange Sentinel cocked her head far to one side as she shuffled along a thick fir branch. She gave a blink of her golden eyes and gave a mild head-bob. "Ah, mmhmm, very good, very good. That is indeed the right flower!" She spoke evenly towards the small, ash colored chirop that at that moment slid off the branch and began to hang upside down. The Medic blinked and followed the creature with her body, her head once more bending far towards one side as she looked under her perch. "Come on now, you aren't done yet. I want you to find me some crickets, now. Go on, off you get." She gave a chortle of a laugh as she fluttered a large wing at the Chirop, who almost promptly flew off into the dark once more. "Such an obedient little thing," she mused to herself when she was alone once more. "Pitty he isn't one to actually talk to, though."
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 7:08 pm
A vague rumble of thunder rolled in with the clouds, and was answered by a low, unhappy whistled note that echoed in the stillness heralding the rainstorm. Pale yellow and fire-orange flashed through the branches at a pace much swifter than a typical Sentinel’s lazy branch-to-branch glide; something much more maneuverable, a Parus, was leading the way through the trees.
“Rainrainraincoming,” the bird was repeating, over and over, occasionally shrilling its dismay at this. “Rainwetrainwetrainrainrain...”
A too-late sighting of an enormous bird, and a flurry of wings stopped the little Parus as short as such a maneuver could, and the little bird keened alarm and darted to the side, seeking some sort of amnesty until the Sentinel behind it could arrive. Flickerwing was captive-raised and young, but it was common knowledge that hungry Sentinels occasionally snacked on companions regardless of their alliances. Flickerwing wasn’t about to take that chance.
“Flickerwing, Flickerwing, where do you go? Come back, come back, where you’ve gone I don’t know...”
The light, singsong voice preceeded the Sentinel, who would have glided quietly through the gathering dark but for the bells. Of those, there were many. Three around her neck, and at least half a dozen tethered to one ankle. It was more than obvious what this particular Sentinel did for a living, though perhaps the peculiar inverted bars on her wings could have led to...confusion. A mockery of the Elites’ in fire-orange and blazing yellow, identical in shade to the little Parus.
She caught sight of the other Sentinel’s silhouette and fell reasonably silent, though her cacophony of bells could not be stilled. Scooping the air and slowing her flight, she reoriented talons beneath her and came to a still on a branch not far from Mallow. Tilting her head ninety degrees first one direction, then the other, she investigated the medic with great interest.
“I beg your pardon, Speckled Mistress, but have you seen a little parus?” she asked, voice pleasant to listen to and cheerful, to boot. Almost like singing as she spoke.
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Posted: Sun Mar 16, 2008 1:28 pm
The Medic gave a sudden opening of her wings, and her head turned a full one-eighty degrees, as the brightly colored, little Parus darted past. When it twittered about a little ways away, the female soon ignored it and repositioned her skull. She shrugged her shoulders to dismiss the queer critter's actions and was about to move up to another branch when something caused her ear-tufts to twitch.
The ping-pinging of bells could be heard just some ways into the woods and it announced the incoming of another Sentinel. However, even with the notice, the Medic still gave a small flutter of her wings and shuffled her feet when the Other landed.
With her large, golden orbs, Mallow gave a quick inspection of the newcomer. She noted the feather dye and the multitude of tinkling bells and knew at once that the Sentinel was a Bard, despite the inverted Elite marks upon her wings -- which made her "hoo" in spite of herself. This was definitely an entertainer she was talking to.
She quirked her head to the side like the other had, shuffled closer, and spoke in her usual, calm voice. "Is it dyed with orange and yellow? I believe it's just," she paused for a moment and righted herself, then looked out towards her left, "over there. ...Mmhmm, yes, there, over on that branch. That 'im?" She extended a wing towards a large pine tree.
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Posted: Fri Mar 21, 2008 8:39 pm
Bright eyes, one orange, one yellow blinked and half-closed in amusement when their owner realized that the other Sentinel had laughed at (or at least acknowledged) her emblems. She had gotten mixed reactions, and this was one that she heartily approved of, much more than the anger she sometimes earned. Preening one of the inverted bars haughtily, she flicked ear-tufts in response to the question and swiveled her head nearly all the way around to inspect the pine tree. And sure enough, a scrap of sunshine yellow could be seen in the gathering dim.
"Flickerwing, you little fool, come here, come here! Little parus, little parus, away do you fly. Return to me," she crooned, turning even a simple command into some sort of a gentle song. When the little bird emerged from the needles and hop-flutter-flew her way over to Brightling, the bard nodded agreeably and inclined her head to Mallow.
"Anyways, g'day," she said, then laughed and turned her beak skywards. "Or evening, as it would seem, with thunder-colours dreaming. In only a few minutes, dearie, rainstorms will be screaming."
The remark was mildly cryptic, but Brightling's pleasant expression and chatty tone never once shifted, and she seemed perfectly happy to inspect Mallow for a while. Then, clicking her beak, she tipped her head down to preen her chest bars and laughed. "Brightling, I am called, and you?"
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2008 6:48 pm
The Medic tilted her head slightly in a silent acknowledgment towards the colorful Parus before she followed the Bard's inclined head.
"Mmmhmm," the Sentinel began as she looked up through the thinner branches at the deepening sky, "it certainly does look like a storm is brewing. Hopefully Sentinels won't get too badly caught up in it." She fell silent for a few minutes and let an ear-tuft twitch in the still air. She then gave a roll of her shoulders and looked back at the Bard.
"Brightling -- that's a lovely name, that is." She gave a kind "hoo" and fluffed out her chest feathers in a content sort of way. "I'm Mallow; a Medic at your service." At that she gave a small bow of her head.
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Posted: Sun Mar 23, 2008 7:36 pm
“Mallow...” Brightling answered, merely fluffing her chest feathers and then smoothing them in acknowledgement of the complement. “Mallow....Mallow.” She rolled the name on her tongue thoughtfully before making a small ‘peep’ of contentment and bobbing her head in a pleased nod. “A strong name for a medic. Mallowplant, mallowgatherer, Mallow Sentinel.” Flicking her ear tufts and tail, she laughed to herself, though the joke hadn’t been funny in any discernable way. “Fair and fallow is dear Mallow, sweetest of the wood,” she crooned in a slight rhythm, tapping her bells against the branch beneath her for accents. Then she laughed and dipped her head, flaring her wings for a moment and looking bright-eyed at the other Sentinel.
“And what, prithee, brings such a one to these trees, when we hear thunder roll and smell rain on the breeze?”
She was playing—much of her performing was done without rhyme, but for the sake of her own enjoyment, and perhaps to assert her position as a true bard—with the Medic. There were no obvious reasons to the ploy, though a careless watcher might have suspected her motives as being peculiar.
Meanwhile, the little Parus, having decided that Mallow was not an outright threat, was inspecting her from a careful distance, bobbing precariously on a twig too slim for her to rightly perch on, head nearly sideways as she watched Mallow from another angle.
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Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2008 6:33 pm
The Medic kept her head cocked slightly as she listened to the bard ring her bells and play with her name, and then she gave a joyous -- yet soft -- hoo of laughter when she finally finished.
"Despite the rainy breeze, my dear bard, my post is amongst these trees and it is here that I'm teaching my companion about leeches and bees." Mallow gave a hoot and another laugh at her own sillyness.
"Pardon my failed attempt," she began cheerily as she straightened herself, "I couldn't help myself; your skills are quite inspiring, though I don't think I'll be joining the ranks of the bards any time soon." She rolled her shoulders again and blinked her large eyes, simple and pure amusement glowing behind them.
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Posted: Thu Apr 10, 2008 4:52 pm
Bright laughter (part of this bard's namesake, no doubt) bubbled up from the bard's throat at the medic's rhymes, but not laughter at the rhymes themselves. "Ah, brilliant!" she cried. "Brilliant!" And she seemed genuinely impressed. A near-silent clap of her wings punctuated the cry, and she continued her laughter for a while, until she shook out her feathers and gave a brilliant smile to the medic.
"The bards would be glad to have you, my dear. It's not everyday one such as you we hear," she replied, shaping her rhymes subtly so that they were some of the most obvious and predictable, playing off Mallow's own speech. "And I thank thee for the compliment, though I think perhaps it was ill spent."
"Little chirop doth learn all the lore of the wood, eh?" she asked, hopping closer to investigate Mallow's companion. "My own Flickerwing is being a bit of a featherhead, but when she comes down, she'll be glad to meet you," she said conversationally, finally losing her pretenses. It was nice to converse with another Sentinel for once.
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Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2008 7:51 pm
Mallow let her chuckling drift off in a small bit of confusion when Brightling started addressing her Chirop... whom she had sent off before the bard and twittering companion arrived. For a second she thought that perhaps the Sentinel was playing with her again, or that perhaps she was just a little crazy. But as the amber Wildtype turned her head around, she noticed the dark little chirop staring owlishly back at the Bard from a small, needle encrusted branch.
The Medic's familiar, happy facial expression returned. "Mmmhmmm, that sounds right nice, doesn't it, Glaz?" Mallow asked, and the small winged creature turned its head towards her and just nodded. The Medic then canted her head and fluffed her chest feathers for an small second before she stated quite matronly,"Well don't say 'Yes' to me; say it to Brightling."
The chirop blinked hurriedly and repeated its first gesture of a nod towards the Bard, which gained a soft hoot of praise from the Wildtype before she filled the awkward air with her voice again.
"He's still quite a young thing -- not too good in the vocabulary department, but he's smart as a whip, that he is." She preened a feather on her wing for a few seconds before snapping her attention back to the other Sentinel. "When did you acquire Flickerwing, Brightling? She's quite a pretty thing."
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2008 5:31 pm
Brightling's own happy obliviousness faded into concern when Mallow looked confused, but it shifted immediately afterward. Laughing softly at the medic's matronly way with the little chirop, she tilted her head and crooned softly. Two short, sharp cries and Flickerwing finally came to her senses and hopped down the few more feet needed to put her on the same level as the Sentinels. She cheeped quietly and fluffed up in something like concern, investigating Mallow.
"Mm, this biddy?" Brightling shrugged a wing and idly preened her coverts. "She was a Graduation gift from parents that were thrilled that I ended up making something of my life. Not that it's much of a something." She laughed, not bitterly or wistfully, simply a laugh at her own expense. "I sometimes wish I had done something more, but you see, I was dreadfully bad at everything else." She laughed again, this time genuine.
"No talent at all except for sleight and a bit of rhyme and rhythm," she confessed. "I envy those who have a true life's purpose."
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Posted: Wed Apr 23, 2008 3:08 pm
Mallow watched the painted parus fluff its feathers, and in turn fluffed her own out of mimicry. But Brightling's later words soon grabbed more at her attention, and after flattening her plumage, she focused her attention back onto the Sentinel. Glaz immediately took up the Medic's investigation however, and moved himself onto a branch closer to the parus.
The Medic gave a soft laugh, but it wasn't as light or "free" as the Bard's had been.
"I think you've got quite a bit more talent than you give yourself credit for, Dear," Mallow stated, almost matter-of-fact, as she bopped a wing against the female's side. "I don't see how it doesn't fit into one of the slots that are under the 'jobs-for-a-true-life's-purpose' list."
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Posted: Wed Apr 23, 2008 6:29 pm
Whistling a soft scale up and down, Flickerwing hopped closer to Glaz and preened his fur gently, saying hello in her own peculiar way, but still keeping an eye on Mallow. No matter what Brightling said, she did not trust other Sentinels not to make a snack out of her.
Meanwhile, Brightling noticed the seriousness in Mallow's voice. Suddenly concerned that the other Sentinel might think she was fishing for compliments, she fluffed in embarrassment and prepared to respond when Mallow struck her. Hooting in surprise, she turned and flared her wings, expression suddenly gleeful, if a bit wickedly so.
"Ah, but when there are so many better than myself, how can I not feel like a silly imitator?" she chuckled. "No matter the talent, a Medic is always needed. Not, of course," and here she rushed ahead, tripping over her tongue in her hurry to clarify, "that you are not an excellent Medic, for I am sure you are. Simply that all Medics are needed. A renegade fledglings' bard?" She clicked her beak matter-of-factly. "Not so much."
"Although most bards cannot do this," she remarked suddenly, brightening and slipping one of the bells from around her neck. Quick as a flash, the thing disappeared into the feathers of her wing. A moment later, Brightling idly leaned in to investigate one of Glaz's delicate leather wings. The bell reappeared, seemingly from the little Chirop, and was back around Brightling's neck in a flash.
"That," she remarked, smiling winningly at Mallow, "that, I am good at."
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Posted: Mon May 12, 2008 3:24 pm
Glaz gave a sudden squeak, and hopped around Flickerwing, as the Bard magically pulled the jingly-bell out from behind him. He stared from one Sentinel to the next with almost wide, black eyes, but then focused up at his 'master' when she began to hoot and laugh.
"Well done, well done!" Mallow applauded with hoots and a few ,small flaps of her barred wings. "That's quite extraordinary, Brightling! And I believe you gave my companion quite a shock." She laughed and looked down at the still wide-eyed Chirop, who only simply blinked back.
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Posted: Tue May 13, 2008 4:57 pm
"Thank you," she answered happily, obviously proud and more than a little bit flustered by the praise. Looking at Glaz, she laughed softly and crooned. "Oh, did I startle the little beastie?" she asked. "I didn't mean to. Poor little thing."
Flickerwing, used to her mistress's shenanigans, preened Glaz's fur again, trying to relax the little chirop. Brightling, meanwhile, gave a shy bow to acknowledge Mallow's praise.
"It's nice to get a chance to practice like that," she admitted, preening out her wing where she had ruffled it in her little trick. "It's an interesting type of performance art that most bards don't know."
Not that she was bragging. Most bards didn't need to rely on gaudy tricks for their own acts. But Brightling liked her little talents nonetheless.
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Posted: Sun Jun 01, 2008 2:57 pm
"Oh he's alright -- I'm afraid he's been startled worse," Mallow stated, almost sheepishly. She gave the chirop a glance, noted his more relaxed state due in part to Flickerwing's ever constant preening, and turned her attention back to the Bard.
She perked her ear-tufts high on her head. "You're always welcome to practice at my station, if you find yourself without an audience or something." A talon tapped for a moment and the medic tilted her head to one side -- an action that seemed to be more habitual than anything else -- as she half thought and half smiled.
"There's plenty of room in the upper branches."
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