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 Posted: Thu May 10, 2012 10:02 pm
Hartekellion froze.
The deep, dark forest was silent, unnaturally so, and Hartekellion kept hearing something at the edge of his awareness. Someone or something was stalking him, and while he'd been able to detect them, they were skilled enough, or knew this forest well enough, that he could not tell where they were.
However, he was certain of one thing; the stalker and this forest held no love for him. The trees were old, bitter things, roots buried deep in regrets and grudges. Their trunks rose up into gloom, bare lower branches clawing at their neighbors', completely entangled. Spanish moss and cobwebs overlapped, turning each tree into a spectral tapestry. No light reached to the forest floor, and only the most determined scrub grew there. The rest was a carpet of moldering, damp, dead leaves, and the occasional stone outcropping.
Hartek slipped behind one of the latter and froze again, straining his ears against the silence. He waited.
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Posted: Fri May 11, 2012 11:02 am
There was indeed something watching the great, draconic Hippo'suti. It had been aware of him since he had entered its forest, and swiftly and silently flown out to investigate. After all, these were the hunting grounds and generalized territory of the thing that watched the stallion. To anyone else, the dark and monstrous forest was a dreadful place, twisted and darkened with a private and brooding pain carried down the long years and soaked into every particle of the forest. To the thing living here, it was an ideal home to plot an apocalypse in order to prepare the world for rebirth.
The great indigo owl ghosted through the trees, watching the stranger with great orange eyes. When he came to a stop behind a stone outcropping, she landed noiselessly in a great tree overhead, on a branch large enough and high enough to allow her to swoop down in another form at frightening velocity and in terrible silence on the intruder--when she so chose. For the time being, there was no need to attack the visitor. No, she could kill him later, once any curiosity she had was sated.
Having decided to perch and watch the stranger for a while longer, Morena na Zima stayed on her tree, appearing for all the world like any other owl...albeit an owl wearing a necklace of bones and a midnight scarf spangled with stars and anchored by disks portraying a five-pointed star and a crescent moon. Hidden in the gloom, despite her Aurora Borealis-like markings, she waited and watched, considering the proper time to attack and kill the intruder.
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Posted: Sat May 26, 2012 2:06 pm
Moments slunk by in the silence, as Hartek's ears swiveled slowly. The only part of him that moved. Not a thing moved in the forest. The silence was absolute, and it was with great reluctance that Hartek broke it at last to examine his surroundings. Visibility was poor, which was why he was relying on his other senses. If he could get on top of the outcrop of stone, though, anyone trying to approach him would have to make noise in order to climb up after him.
Yes, getting atop the stone made the most sense, defensively. The only way an enemy could get the drop on him would be to... get above him...
Hartekellion's eyes traveled upwards and caught a glint of orange against the gloom. Two eyes. Watching him. Small ones, though. Some kind of bird? Was this his stalker?
"Greetings." he said, cautiously.
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2014 4:51 pm
The owl hadn't seen a thing like the Soquili below it before. Not that the owl recalled, long ago and far away in the north, half a world away. Rather like a dragon in legends of yore. Only real, and, apparently, not fire-breathing. How strange.
However, if his hide was as tough as a dragon's, then it would be useless to kill him in this form. If his hide was more akin to a normal Soquili's, then it would merely be slow to kill as an owl. And one thing the owl did not do was long, slow, horrible deaths. Swift, and merciful, that was the true way for the one in the branches above to end the lives of the living.
The strange stallion called out to her, cautiously. Oi, zhimoy.
The owl's appearance rippled in the faint, deeply shadowed light. Massive wings spread, mantling as the being balanced herself in the branches of the warped tree. A feathered tail trailed down, fanning carefully. Enormous, tufted claws languorously stretched and clutched down on the wood, shredding the bark with a sharpness and tightness to make any cry out in fear and pain. The bone necklace clattered, the silken scarf whispered. But the feathers made no sound, for they were as soft as an owl's downy plumage. From beneath a gargantuan owl's pelt, the flaming orange eyes ominously regarded the stranger, down the beaked muzzle surmounted by a pale, hooked owl's beak.
"You are come into my forest. What wants a dragon in my home, where none walk out alive?" she asked in a soft, deep voice that carried the strong accent of her homeland.
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