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Description

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Oh look it's more peaceful for once. That's new.
Smol bean is only dipping her toes into learning two tiny magic tricks since they could be useful out here.
Just listening for Spites.
Don't mind her.

Basic Wind:
1/2 Enhanced Hearing
0/2 Speedy Movement
0/2 Wind Gusts
0/2 Manipulate Sound

4/252 (fullbody+background+story(below))

Rook stared around at the Auranna Forest warily, ears twitched up each time she heard a noise. She couldn't hear any spites....but it still worried her that those kindrin were around where she was now. No braided flora, but Rook wasn't experienced enough in spite lore to recognize that as a sign of no kindrin. For all she knew, one of those horrible monsters would come out of the woodwork and kill her, or worse. And she was too large to fit anywhere they wouldn't, now. Could she run faster, now that she was a fully grown gro?

She hoped she wouldn't have to find out. She also hoped that her distress mere minutes earlier when she was trying to get out of that hole wouldn't be her downfall. Cautiously, she kept slinking through the wilderness, setting her hind claws down delicately in the hopes of not alerting anything dangerous. Her opinion of the woods had been very rapidly diminished after the recent events.

She wasn't even beginning to regret leaving the Nook to go and explore the outdoors--she was trashing herself mentally because she'd decided to leave the Nook and explore outdoors. She'd been such an idiot, thinking that wandering 'just a little further' into the Caravine Cliffs would end well. She'd gone from sitting around outside the edges of the cliffs to wandering in the closest ravine to getting lost. Although she was grown, she was....regretting how she'd left. She had enjoyed the comfort it offered. She fiddled with the end of her scarf momentarily, focusing on the memories associated with it. Heartkindle, one of the more generous wynglings had given her the scarf along with several gifts for others.

Rook let out a short huff, hopping onto a fallen log and flicking her tail around behind her. She enjoyed time to herself, but, even if she had calmed down from her panic in that hole in the ground, complete social isolation was something few enjoyed. Rook would have loved it if she'd been with someone else when she'd gotten lost; someone to share the experience and help each other get out of this mess. But, hindsight was 20/20, and she'd never been the most pleasant wyngling or the best at curbing her energy around others. She was alone now, and that was that. Wynsiph was out there somewhere, and she'd find it sooner or later. She certainly hoped it was sooner.

Rook kept herself crouched on that fallen log, trying to listen for any noises that might be dangerous. Nothing, but....she strained her ears, focusing on the memory of the kindrins' horrifying noises, listening for anything of the sort. She didn't fail to notice the faint orange glow reflecting off her goggles, similar to the red glow just earlier that day. More magic? Ugh. So long as it was useful. And it was; although she had to pause and grasp her head to keep from getting a headache from the other wildlife around, she did feel more focused on the noises. Noises including....

There was a short laughing, chittering noise. Not a kindrin's noise, but not a normal animal noise either, without a doubt. Rook whipped her head around, trying to see where the source of the noise was, and let out an alarmed shriek when she saw a white shape flit through undergrowth a fair distance away, skin pale as milk except for the red tips. That wasn't the kind of spite she'd seen before, she knew it wasn't. That was too slender, too quick on its feet. Another giggling, chortling noise, and Rook's paws hit the ground and she tripped over her own feet as she startled again from the noise, catching a brief glimpse of sideways green eyes in a moon-shaped head. Would they attack her? Chase her? Were they as dangerous as the kindrin had seemed? Whatever they were, they were making her almost as freaked out as she had been in that cramped hole, and that paranoia was exponentially increasing the longer she waited like a deer in the headlights to see what would happen or if she could identify them more. No luck. Flashes of their pale bodies, but gone too quick for her to get a good idea of what they looked like.

Rook hurried back up to her feet, magic snuffed out when she'd first heard that chittering noise, and glanced around herself at the areas she'd seen some of the yittles appearing. A brief glimpse of white out of the corner of one eye, and by default she turned her head again. They weren't attacking. She didn't know much about spites. She was at a loss for how to deal with the yittles staying just out of proper sight.

Rook glanced up at the branches of the trees. She could climb those, she was certain! Maybe these things couldn't get up into trees, or she could see them that way, tell what they were doing easier. If she could make it up there as a wyngling, she could certainly do it now. She quickened her pace to head towards a tree with lower branches, tail swinging behind her. She yelped abruptly when a yittle scuried across her path--bold, for its type of spite--with the evident purpose of cutting her off briefly and dragging out another burst of spiked fear. After a moment to recover, she leaped up and dug her claws into the bark of the tree she'd been heading for, clambering up into its branches before looking down again with an almost triumphant feel.

Triumphant, at least, until another yittle swiped its claws across her back unexpectedly, earning another shriek from Rook and almost ruining her balance on the branches. The 'gro's chest hit the branch she was standing on with a huff as she lost air from her lungs, and she scrambled back into a more stable position again, shaking when she registered the sting of the thin claw scrapes along her back. Some blood, but likely to clot soon. The yittle who'd dealt the small wound was already gone, triple tail disappearing as it dashed away. These things had no trouble climbing. She wasn't safe here.

Rook turned, gripping the tree cautiously as she moved across it. At least she might be able to better tell where they'd be this way, maybe. She yelped when she almost slithered off the tree. She'd not been this heavy when she'd climbed something last. She was heavy and panicking and the yittles attacking her were in their element, getting the food they wanted. Not a good position to be in.

Rook pricked up her ears again, dropping to her knees so she could use all four of her hands and feet as she hurried between the branches. She wasn't sure where she was going, didn't know how it would end, but she knew staying where the yittles could keep teasing her and freaking her out wasn't a good plan. She squeaked again when one appeared momentarily, dropping from an upper branch past her to a lower one beneath before scurrying away. Looking up again, her nose twitched at the smell of river plants and the noise of running water. She wasn't in favor of swimming, didn't even know if she could, but....if it would get her away from spites, even by just washing her downstream. She'd take anything to get away from the disturbing spites.

Description

Previous | First | Next |

Oh look it's more peaceful for once. That's new.
Smol bean is only dipping her toes into learning two tiny magic tricks since they could be useful out here.
Just listening for Spites.
Don't mind her.

Basic Wind:
1/2 Enhanced Hearing
0/2 Speedy Movement
0/2 Wind Gusts
0/2 Manipulate Sound

4/252 (fullbody+background+story(below))

Rook stared around at the Auranna Forest warily, ears twitched up each time she heard a noise. She couldn't hear any spites....but it still worried her that those kindrin were around where she was now. No braided flora, but Rook wasn't experienced enough in spite lore to recognize that as a sign of no kindrin. For all she knew, one of those horrible monsters would come out of the woodwork and kill her, or worse. And she was too large to fit anywhere they wouldn't, now. Could she run faster, now that she was a fully grown gro?

She hoped she wouldn't have to find out. She also hoped that her distress mere minutes earlier when she was trying to get out of that hole wouldn't be her downfall. Cautiously, she kept slinking through the wilderness, setting her hind claws down delicately in the hopes of not alerting anything dangerous. Her opinion of the woods had been very rapidly diminished after the recent events.

She wasn't even beginning to regret leaving the Nook to go and explore the outdoors--she was trashing herself mentally because she'd decided to leave the Nook and explore outdoors. She'd been such an idiot, thinking that wandering 'just a little further' into the Caravine Cliffs would end well. She'd gone from sitting around outside the edges of the cliffs to wandering in the closest ravine to getting lost. Although she was grown, she was....regretting how she'd left. She had enjoyed the comfort it offered. She fiddled with the end of her scarf momentarily, focusing on the memories associated with it. Heartkindle, one of the more generous wynglings had given her the scarf along with several gifts for others.

Rook let out a short huff, hopping onto a fallen log and flicking her tail around behind her. She enjoyed time to herself, but, even if she had calmed down from her panic in that hole in the ground, complete social isolation was something few enjoyed. Rook would have loved it if she'd been with someone else when she'd gotten lost; someone to share the experience and help each other get out of this mess. But, hindsight was 20/20, and she'd never been the most pleasant wyngling or the best at curbing her energy around others. She was alone now, and that was that. Wynsiph was out there somewhere, and she'd find it sooner or later. She certainly hoped it was sooner.

Rook kept herself crouched on that fallen log, trying to listen for any noises that might be dangerous. Nothing, but....she strained her ears, focusing on the memory of the kindrins' horrifying noises, listening for anything of the sort. She didn't fail to notice the faint orange glow reflecting off her goggles, similar to the red glow just earlier that day. More magic? Ugh. So long as it was useful. And it was; although she had to pause and grasp her head to keep from getting a headache from the other wildlife around, she did feel more focused on the noises. Noises including....

There was a short laughing, chittering noise. Not a kindrin's noise, but not a normal animal noise either, without a doubt. Rook whipped her head around, trying to see where the source of the noise was, and let out an alarmed shriek when she saw a white shape flit through undergrowth a fair distance away, skin pale as milk except for the red tips. That wasn't the kind of spite she'd seen before, she knew it wasn't. That was too slender, too quick on its feet. Another giggling, chortling noise, and Rook's paws hit the ground and she tripped over her own feet as she startled again from the noise, catching a brief glimpse of sideways green eyes in a moon-shaped head. Would they attack her? Chase her? Were they as dangerous as the kindrin had seemed? Whatever they were, they were making her almost as freaked out as she had been in that cramped hole, and that paranoia was exponentially increasing the longer she waited like a deer in the headlights to see what would happen or if she could identify them more. No luck. Flashes of their pale bodies, but gone too quick for her to get a good idea of what they looked like.

Rook hurried back up to her feet, magic snuffed out when she'd first heard that chittering noise, and glanced around herself at the areas she'd seen some of the yittles appearing. A brief glimpse of white out of the corner of one eye, and by default she turned her head again. They weren't attacking. She didn't know much about spites. She was at a loss for how to deal with the yittles staying just out of proper sight.

Rook glanced up at the branches of the trees. She could climb those, she was certain! Maybe these things couldn't get up into trees, or she could see them that way, tell what they were doing easier. If she could make it up there as a wyngling, she could certainly do it now. She quickened her pace to head towards a tree with lower branches, tail swinging behind her. She yelped abruptly when a yittle scuried across her path--bold, for its type of spite--with the evident purpose of cutting her off briefly and dragging out another burst of spiked fear. After a moment to recover, she leaped up and dug her claws into the bark of the tree she'd been heading for, clambering up into its branches before looking down again with an almost triumphant feel.

Triumphant, at least, until another yittle swiped its claws across her back unexpectedly, earning another shriek from Rook and almost ruining her balance on the branches. The 'gro's chest hit the branch she was standing on with a huff as she lost air from her lungs, and she scrambled back into a more stable position again, shaking when she registered the sting of the thin claw scrapes along her back. Some blood, but likely to clot soon. The yittle who'd dealt the small wound was already gone, triple tail disappearing as it dashed away. These things had no trouble climbing. She wasn't safe here.

Rook turned, gripping the tree cautiously as she moved across it. At least she might be able to better tell where they'd be this way, maybe. She yelped when she almost slithered off the tree. She'd not been this heavy when she'd climbed something last. She was heavy and panicking and the yittles attacking her were in their element, getting the food they wanted. Not a good position to be in.

Rook pricked up her ears again, dropping to her knees so she could use all four of her hands and feet as she hurried between the branches. She wasn't sure where she was going, didn't know how it would end, but she knew staying where the yittles could keep teasing her and freaking her out wasn't a good plan. She squeaked again when one appeared momentarily, dropping from an upper branch past her to a lower one beneath before scurrying away. Looking up again, her nose twitched at the smell of river plants and the noise of running water. She wasn't in favor of swimming, didn't even know if she could, but....if it would get her away from spites, even by just washing her downstream. She'd take anything to get away from the disturbing spites.