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 Posted: Thu Apr 03, 2008 8:58 pm
Based at the edge of the forest, this moldy old container was once used by a Gatherer…although it appears to be abandoned a long time ago. Tightly secured to the base of a large spruce, this shell of a structure is large enough to fit three…if you don't mind snuggling up a bit. It's hardly a first choice; however it's much better than nothing.
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Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 3:11 pm
The young Watcher, like most other Sentinels in Noctua, had blindly ignored the oncoming thunder as merely another sign of spring. A token of small rain, perhaps, but nothing big. With this in her head, Morroghane had decided to go out in the early hours of the evening, to begin her task of watching for trouble. Morroghane had always used this task as an excuse to blithely explore, and she found herself on the very edges of the forest by the time the small rumbles had turned into an oncoming storm.
Shelter came to mind first, second only by the small bit of fear twisting in her that she might not find shelter in time to avoid the rain and she'd be grounded. However, on the edge of the forest, she spotted what looked like a safe shelter. She hoped dearly that whoever was there wouldn't mind sharing their small haven to avoid the rain. Upon further inspection, though, the youthful Sentinel realized that it was long since abandoned, and big enough for her to fit in comfortable.
Thoughts of others barely went through her mind. After all, who would be silly enough to venture this far out to the edge? Unless they lived there, of course, but if they had, then they had no need for her temporary shelter. She bolted inside the small structure and looked out to watch for the rain. Hopefully it would come and pass, so she could return deeper into the forest.
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Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 3:27 pm
The first creature to join the young Watcher was one some might find to be a bit of a nuisance.
Though young and brash, Feather was usually alert to the changes in atmosphere. He and Fjord both had ignored the coming signs of the storm, which was unfortunate for the gaudy bard, his pica, and his mus.
Feather entered the old, molded container and gave a shrill cry. "No eat! No eat! Companion!" He jabbered on to her. He waited for no reply, confident that he would not be on the menu.
"Eyyord! Eyyord! Here! Goodshelter, safe place from storm!" He hopped from the Watcher's side and poked his narrow head from the shelter. "Sentinel here! Young! Keepsafe youboth!" He hopped back towards Morroghane and beamed up at her before preening a damp feather on his dark wings.
Only moments later the gaudy Fjord arrived. The bard was also damp from the starting rains, but had done his best to protect the shiny jewelry that lined his chest and paws. Sitting on his back was a mus painted the same as the pica.
He gave her one of his well practiced and graceful bows. "Pardon the intrusion, but may I and my companions seek refuge with you? I fear we shan't make it much further in this weather..."
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Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 4:31 pm
“Stupid bards with their damned idiotic notions of sweet spring rains…” Cillian muttered annoyedly under his breath as he carefully navigated his way across a branch, his wings stretched to give him more balance. Normally, the ill-tempered Ranger would have simply flown, but the heavy winds and the torrential rains made it difficult. While he looked like a large Sentinel, most of his bulk was actually just fluff, courtesy of his half-Ghost lineage. The rain slicked down his soft feathers, making utterly useless for keeping in warmth. Shelter, that was the important thing.
At least he had one advantage: he knew this territory relatively well. The northern territory was one of his favorite areas to patrol, mostly because few, if any, ever came out here. Even other Rangers rarely ventured out here, partly because there wasn’t much and partly because of Cillian’s caustic personality. Clacking his beak ill-temperedly, the Aberrant shook himself off, trying to get rid of as much of the water as possible. The old box was somewhere nearby, he knew that.
The shine of moonlight off of jewelry alerted him to the presence of others as he awkwardly made his approach. Like most Sentinels, he was far more confident in flight than on his feet. He arrived just in time to see the bard’s---yes, that other male had to be a bard; no one else would dare prance around like that---rather flowery bow. Cillian rolled his eyes and simply stated, “Either go in or get out of the way already. Others are waiting.”
For Cillian, manners were things that happened to other Sentinels.
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Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 4:47 pm
Morroghane hadn't expected others to find her little shell of a hideaway, and had begun to accept that as fact, having to sit out in the storm by herself. She was by herself more often then not, so this notion was more comfortable than having to share the tiny hole with others. At least, until a companion came bustling into the shelter crying for Morroghane not to eat him. She blinked, momentarily thrown by the sudden intrusion, and scoffed. "You do not look very appetizing." She said snippily, rolling her eyes. She looked out for the Sentinel that the Companion belonged to, and hadn't long to wait before the gaudy bard arrived.
She leaned back away from the bird, frowning at him and his bow, and then opened her beak to tell him that he was more than welcome to join her in the Shelter. After all, small as it was, she couldn't very well leave him out in the storm. However, someone behind the bard spoke up. She lifted her head to try and look past the bard to see who it was, frowning. "Others? This shelter isn't very big, I'll have you know!" Her feathers bristled at the simple statement, but she moved deeper into the shelter. "Come in, come in. Before it starts raining harder." She said, moving towards the back of the shelter so the two others could fit in comfortable.
Not much worry came for the companion, he could sit on top of his bard's head for all she cared.
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Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 4:59 pm
Fjord bustled in, somewhat put off by the hostility that came from Cillian. Not that he wasn't used to such things. Growing as an aberrant made life rather hard on him from the beginning. A quick glance at the second aberrant, mixed with his sudden snap gave the bard a quick assumption of what he would be dealing with.
"Thank you, ma'am..." The pica fluttered anxiously to Fjord's paws and hopped past his talons to rest under his chest.
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Posted: Fri Apr 04, 2008 5:43 pm
Cillian waited impatiently outside while the bard clambered into the half-rotten box, occasionally glancing up at the sky. It wouldn’t get any better, he could tell that much. This was one of those nights where you could actually see the darkness itself, thick as a tree-trunk and talon sharp. On nights like that, you learned to stare back into the darkness and could only hope that there wasn’t anything staring back at you. The Ranger shook off himself carefully before squeezing into the box. It was a tight fit, to say the least, especially considering that Cillian’s ideal location would be far away from others at all times. No thanks came from him; in his mind, there honestly wasn’t a reason to thank the Shadow for allowing him in.
After briefly running his beak through his feathers to get them properly aligned for drying, he finally looked directly at his current… companions. Neither one of them was recognized, but that was easily explained; the Aberrant did not like encountering others, hence the whole Ranger thing. A Shadow female and another Aberrant male. It was rare for anyone to be out here.
“What were you two doing out here?” he asked eventually, deciding that simply staring the others down wasn’t going to make them inclined to answer. Apparently, he felt this was more important than learning names.
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Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2008 1:08 pm
Morroghane nodded to Fjord and his companion quietly in response to their thanks, though it hadn't been necessary. It wasn't like this shelter was hers, after all. It was probably abandoned, she decided to herself. It wasn't very well upkept, whoever had lived here probably moved as soon as they could. After all, who would want to live on the very edge of the forest when the center was so much more... Just more. The Watcher found herself watching the two of them from her spot near the very back of the shelter. She had chosen her spot to be safest from the rain, and felt no small twinge for the second Aberrant who had to be by the exit.
It was odd to her that these two would wander out so far North. What reason would they possibly have to come to the practically deserted section of forest? Of course, she herself hadn't any reason but curiosity for coming this far herself, she couldn't very well blame them for the same thing.
So into her thoughts, Morroghane only heard the tail end of what Cillian had asked. ...out here? Morroghane frowned a little, and tried for a second to recall what he'd said. It had completely escaped her attention. Wonderful, her new companions would think she wasn't as smart as the average Sentinel. "What?" She asked, glancing past Fjord at Cillian. She couldn't answer a question she hadn't heard, not without sounding stupid. With her luck, she'd completely answer the wrong question entirely.
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Posted: Sat Apr 05, 2008 8:23 pm
Fjord watched both Morroghane and Cillian for a moment before responding. He clacked his beak and was thankful that his pica was bright enough to keep his beak shut.
After a moment of deliberating with himself, the bard figured that it would be alright to answer Cillian, despite the cold "introduction", which was lacking in name and cordialness.
"As I am sure you can tell from the ink on my feathers and the bells on my feet, I am a bard. What better to influence a bard, than nature itself? Although I am a bard, I do enjoy a travel here and there."
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Posted: Sun Apr 06, 2008 12:00 pm
In all fairness, Cillian’s typical view was that every Sentinel he met was an idiot. Instead of assuming everyone was intelligent and letting them prove him wrong, he assumed everyone was a moron and then let them prove him right. In his rather one-sided mind, the shadow female had just nudged herself along that path. Being out here without a reason certainly didn’t help either of their cases, though. He sighed and, once again, asked, “What are you doing out here?” In reverence to the fact that she was clearly a bit slow, he asked the question more clearly and slowly, as if speaking to a less-than-bright fledgling.
Not that he spoke to many fledglings of any intellect level. As he spoke, he occasionally would stop to toss a small branch or bit of debris out of the opening of the box. It was pretty messy… might as well try and clean it up a bit.
Turning his pale blue eyes back to the other Aberrant, Cillian simply snorted. “I like how your ‘influence’ has to come from nature and then you ignored the nature that’s closer to others,” he said in his typical acrid way. “Tell me, just what song were you hoping to get out of this little ‘travel’? ‘Oh Cold Forest rain/ That’s far too austere a name/ For something made of pure rage/ Flowing through the Forest’s vein’?” There was another snort before Cillian, once again, went back to preening a feather. It was a bit of a displacement activity for him, honestly; dealing with others made him more anxious than he cared to admit. “It’s too dangerous out here for a simple ‘trip’. It’s the Edge.” The way he said the word ‘edge’ made it clear that it was capitalized.
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Posted: Sun Apr 06, 2008 4:23 pm
Morroghane hadn't entirely forgotten the bard was there between herself and Cillian, but even then she was momentarily startled by his answer, as if it'd come as an entire shock that he could speak at all, despite speaking before to introduce himself. She felt a little pleased that she'd guessed him a bard correctly, but that was pushed aside when Cillian repeated his question for her. The way he'd repeated the question made her shrink back away from the two, but then her feathers ruffled up again and she cast a quiet glare at him. Irritation at his etiquette won out, and she watched him for a moment coolly. "... Why does that matter?" She asked finally, watching him. "This part of the forest isn't restricted from Watchers." Or anyone, for that matter.
She watched as Cillian berated the bard -- Fjord, if she remembered right -- for hoping to find a song on his adventure, and rolled her eyes a little, turning her head down into her chest. This was going to turn into quite a long stay if he was going to continue on. She faded out of the conversation, words escaping her but tone still there, and she snorted quietly into her chestfeathers, starting to preen them back into place. She looked up when he said it was dangerous for a simple trip, and clacked her beak to herself, returning back to her preening. This really was going to be a long, long stay.
Morroghane really hoped the rain would let up soon.
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Posted: Sun Apr 06, 2008 5:37 pm
Fjord hissed quietly, but resisted his urge to back away from Cillian, as that would push him even further into the little space that Morroghane had.
Usually the bard was cheerful in his wording, but Cillian was pressing him. Cillian was seriously pressing him. For the first time in a while, since his last encounter with Sly, the bard was short of patience and about to snap at the other sentinel. A soft tug on his eartufts made him realize that his orange eyes were squinted and that his eartufts were flattened. The little painted mus on his head gave him a soft and reassuring squeak.
"You speak as though I have no experience in fending for myself. Not all bards are soft." It was more of a bluff. Fjord had always been smaller than others, sickly too.
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Posted: Mon Apr 07, 2008 10:49 pm
So, the Shadow female was a Watcher then. No matter. As far as Cillian was concerned, ‘Watcher’ just meant ‘Sentinel who hadn’t found his/her/preferred gender pronoun place in society yet’. Either that, or someone who hadn’t quite lived up to the standards of the Rangers. “No. No, it isn’t restricted from Watchers.” Even when he was agreeing with someone, there was some belligerent tone to his voice. “That doesn’t mean it’s perfectly safe. And I’m sure you have faced many dangers, bard, such as a particularly tough audience. That’s perfect training for the world outside the territories. How could I have ever doubted your survival skills?” If sarcasm could be made into a solid form, there would have been puddles of the acid right around Cillian’s feet, mixing with the puddle of water.
Actually, there could have been some sarcasm in there. With all the water, it was all but impossible to see other liquids. “And of course it matters. There’s a very good reason why few others come out here.” Technically, there were several reasons. One of them was Cillian, or so the Ranger liked to think. Another reason was that the trees were sparser out here, as was typical of the Cold Forest. Few Sentinels were willing to travel without cover and the few who were willing were just a few feathers short of a full wing, if you catch the meaning.
It would be a long night, that was for sure. Deciding that he had spoken enough, Cillian tried to keep his beak shut. If a Sentinel was clever, they might try and read past his arguments about how ‘dangerous’ it was out here and assume that it meant he actually did care about others. Somewhere beneath that soft feathery layer, maybe there was a gooey center after all. The question was, ‘is it really worth finding it?’
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Posted: Tue Apr 08, 2008 12:11 pm
Morroghane found herself slowly drifting her train of thoughts past the two other Sentinels and outside. She had to wonder if any others were trapped out there for lack of shelter. Curiosity led to a small frown pulling its way onto her face, until she heard Cillian starting to speak again. For some reason that irritating tone could get her back from her lovely little escape to the outside.
Something about restricted from Watchers... Oh! She brightened at remembering what they were talking about, though she had missed what the Bard said (which wasn't any real dilemma, she was almost certain it was to Cillian anyway). She rolled her eyes a little at his badgering the bard, and puffed her feathers up. "Does it look like the rain will let up soon?" She asked tonelessly, as if asking such a question was done often and was completely polite. She glanced past him towards the rain, quietly. "If not, we'll be stuck here for a while."
Her eyes went back to Cillian from outside, where they'd gone distance. It was so tempting to just fade out of the conversation. "And it'll be a bit more pleasant if you two," as to avoid putting blame on either of them. She hadn't the slightest idea how they'd feel about it, but it was worth a shot. If nothing else, she was getting tired of the shots taking between the bard and the Ranger. "Could try to be a little nicer to each other. In lieu of the circumstances." She looked down at her feathers again, making a small gesture to fix one of the feathers and avoid any staring at her. She didn't really like calling attention to herself, but that didn't mean she wasn't capable. Of course, in her distraction to try and make the males stop, she hadn't quite read past the warnings about how 'dangerous' it was out here.
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Posted: Tue Apr 08, 2008 7:48 pm
Fjord forced a grin across his beak, but it looked natural. He was, after all, an actor. It would of been something if he couldn't act. "Oh, I do believe you speak the truth, miss. Hopefully, too, these rains will not last long." He ignored the comments Cillian had made. If he were to respond to them, his response would of not been pleasant. He was annoyed with the Ranger, but did not want to take it further.
"Hurk. Norrrawannawaitlonnnng." Feather complained from his place on Fjord's talons. The dark feathered pica shuffled anxiously and shrank at a loud clap of thunder.
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