Welcome to Gaia! ::

Sunbug set off for the Grandfather Tree, convinced she was finally ready for her gift. But she was nervous. What if the Tree deemed her unworthy? Had that ever happened before? She might be the first. How embarrassing.

She wanted to be good, to do good. The world was fast changing for nouls, and she wanted to be on the forefront of greeting that change and making sure everyone was safe. She couldn't do that without her gift and the Tree's blessing.

Golden sunlight dappled the ground she walked on and she focused, momentarily, on how it danced beneath her. It was a calming sort of hypnosis that allowed her to focus on the beat of her heart and her hooves against the earth. She took a deep breath, counted.

The Grandfather Tree would grant her a quest. It would bless her. Because she was worthy. She had to believe that. She couldn't get caught up in the what ifs. But still her mind nagged what if?

Her journey ended almost abruptly as she finally reached the Grandfather Tree. Smaller trees ended, giving way to the massive, shadowing crown of the glorious white oak. Sunbug's breath left her briefly. It was as beautiful as she had been told. She felt she had to strain her little neck to see all the way to the top, and the branches spanned on for eternity. Large, lobbed leaves danced in the gentle breeze way up there in the open air.

She forgot her fears at once, drowned out by the glory of the sight before her.

Sunbug wandered just outside of Homewood as she sometimes did, pushing the bounds of what might be safe for a young giftless. She wanted to see more, know more. Even though she knew that could land her in a tough spot, she couldn't ignore that call. Maybe she wouldn't be useful to healing Vykeli without a gift, but she could at least be useful in her knowledge.

Except today, she'd be tested. She hadn't made it far beyond the forest before a rat came skittering towards her. She let out a quiet but uncomfortable noise, stepping back as it came to close, but she noticed it was alone. Solo rats weren't much of a threat, right? Still, she was wary. What if there were more, hidden in the shadows and waiting?

"Stay back!" She cried, trying to sound stern but coming up a little short.

The rat didn't seem to notice. It looked panicky and terrified. It's eyes bulged with anxiety, showing the whites. "Noulicorn please! Please help me!" It took a few pleading steps forward.

Sunbug lifted a leg defensively, putting one of her only weapons between herself and the rat. Help? What help could a rat want? "I can't help you."

The rat let out a panicked whimper. "Please! My burrow has collapsed! My children are trapped! I can't get to them alone!"

The rat sounded so earnest and scared that Sunbug's heart panged a little bit. Hadn't she said she wanted to heal and help and know? She didn't necessarily trust this rat, but she didn't think she could let her lost her babies. "This isn't a trick? You won't turn around and attack me or homewood?"

"No!" The rat said firmly, tears welling. "I just want my children safe. We'll leave you alone after."

Sunbug paused to think, then slowly put her leg down and nodded. "Okay, I'll help."

The rat squeaked something unintelligible but grateful sounding and dashed off, leaving Sunbug to follow. It was fast, and she had to push herself to keep up. It eventually led her to a terrible looking mess of rubble where some rocks clearly were too large for any one creature to move. But maybe together?

"I think we need to both push on these," Sunbug told the rat. The rat nodded, weepy but determined. Together they stood on the side of one rock and shoved with their shoulders. Sunbug let out an unintentional grunt, but slowly the rubble started to budge.

It felt like it took hours, though only minutes passed by. One by one, the larger pieces of earth were moved until Sunbug and the rat could work separately to dig out the smaller debris. Slowly, a hole opened up and little squeals could be heard on the other side.

As soon as the hole was wide enough for Sunbug's head to fit through, a parade of little rat pups came spilling out into the open air, squeaking in panic. The rat dropped everything she was doing to immediately attend to her babies, and the cacophony of pup noises quickly quieted down. She looked to Sunbug, her gratitude apparent on her face.

"Thank you so much. This means more than I could possibly explain. I couldn't have saved them without you."

Sunbug smiled politely. She had mixed feelings for sure. She couldn't even count how many rats she had just saved. What if that came back to haunt her? She felt good that she'd saved a life, but what would the cost be? "You're welcome. Please make sure no harm comes back to Homewood."