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Description
I literally could not get myself to continue this comic so I'm updating this with story in the description.

Fern was out today to buy groceries. He didn't really want to be out, but here he was. In all honesty, though, better than being stuck on the farm getting nagged by his "family" all day, so he'd taken his turn to go to the market in stride.

He glanced over the list the woman that he used to call mother had given him, looking at his surroundings as he went. There were a lot of herbs and spices that he was tempted to buy just for the heck of it, but no, he would stick to the list. Just the list. Anything other than that would be excessive and imply that he cared, or that he tasted the food that he put in his mouth at the family dinner table anymore.

The newly-grown adult almost had his bag filled with the necessary items when he was sliding past an ori and his handler. The ori was apparently a male, as he overheard the discussion between the handler and the merchant that he was addressing, and of course, Fern could see the bright colors. It wasn't entirely unusual to see male oris around, especially if they were being trained to get accustomed to their surroundings, but Fern had honestly never been that close to one before. He was used to the couple of females that they kept on the farm, especially Stream, but the male was more compact and lively.

He was a little ways beyond the two when there was a loud pop! behind him. He whirled around as the ori made an alarmed noise and a small cloud of colorful dust rose into the air. "Woah, woah!" The ori's handler had his hands raised as he made an attempt to stop the beast from panicking at the sudden loud noise. "C'mon now, calm down!"

The handler seemed to be having a tough time getting his ori under control, as each time he would make a grab for the reins or try to get to his side to reach for the saddle the ori would jolt away or turn around violently. Fern grit his teeth - he was no stranger to startled oris, though this was the first time he'd handled one personally. One of their oris - one of the two besides Stream - was jittery and nervous, and startled at the littlest thing if she didn't have her blinds on. He dropped his bag on the ground in preparation to mimic the movements he'd seen his father and older sister make dozens of times, clenching his jaw and cracking his knuckles.

A roll of his shoulders to loosen his muscles, and he charged at the ori from behind, ducking to just barely miss a swing from the beast's tail. It was too preoccupied with dodging its handler to notice a second wyngro coming up from behind, and Fern made a quick grab for the saddle while it was busy thrashing its head away from its owner. One food in the stirrup, swing the other leg over before the beast had time to realize what was happening - then grab at the reins and give it a firm pull, enough to make the ori realize that someone had mounted it. He still wiggled under Fern a bit, but with his hold on it both in his heels and his hands, as well as a few standard, soothing, "Woah, woah there"s in tandem with the ori's owner, it finally managed to calm down. He let out a final snort as he lowered his head into his handler's outstretched hands. Neither of them noticed a pair of attentive golden eyes watching the scene unfurl, transfixed on Fern's figure.

When Fern was sure that it would be alright, his slid off of the ori, handing his owner the reins. "Thanks," the black and white gro said graciously, scratching behind his head while Fern gave him a nod. "I'm sure I would've gotten him to calm down in the end, but it's a lot easier when you have someone helping out. I'll pay for any damaged goods," he added to the stall owner that he'd previously been talking to, looking thoroughly apologetic.

Fern was going to pick up his bag, leaving the two of them to negotiations, when he noticed a strangely familiar color darting down an alleyway. He squinted after it, frowning and straightening up. "... Kismet?" he mumbled, following after the wyngling. He had a strange feeling that they were involved with what had just transpired. By now, all of the rest of his shopping list had been forgotten and abandoned in favor of sating his curiosity.

He followed the twists and turns of this particular alleyway until he came to a little fortress made of a few crates stacked together, where he heard voices inside of one of them. Fern approached silently, then leaned over to look in. "Aha!" he crowed, reaching in to snap up Kismet by their scruff. "And just what were you doing in the market?" he asked sternly, placing them down on top of the crate they'd just been inside of. He hadn't failed to notice the two dark quills who were inside either, though they had fallen silent and didn't come out, like they were hiding. Nor had he failed to notice the pile of goodies that they had inside, a mass of food that would feed a wyngling like Kismet for days.

Kismet didn't answer his question, instead fixing him with a cold glare. Fern sighed, pinching his brows to avoid the headache that was coming on. "I'm not going to report you or anything. I was just going to say that if you want food, you know you can come to my place. I'd be happy to give you pretty much whatever, not like my family cares what I do with our food."

"It's not just for me!" Kismet barked out, finally responding to him. They still glowered for a moment before looking off into the distance, somewhere down the alley. "You only give me enough for me and maybe one other person. I need to feed my family on the streets. There are a lot of other wynglings out here who don't know how to survive as well as I do, but they refuse to go to the nook, so they need someone to look after them." They glanced back at him with an appraising look, giving him a quick one-over out of the corner of their eye. "Besides that, when did you grow up?"

"A while ago. You haven't come by in a hot second, Kismet," Fern said, shaking his head. "If you need more, I can get you more. I can even bring it all the way to you now that I'm bigger. All you have to do is tell me what I should bring." Without thinking further, he pulled a bottle of rattle cow milk out of the side pocket of his bag and sat it down in front of Kismet. "Here. Take this for today, I'm sure you couldn't snatch any of that with that stunt you just pulled." He straightened up and ran his hands over his hair tuft with another deep sigh, shaking his head. "You know where to find me for now. I'll try to let you know when I decide to leave."

Kismet didn't respond any further, just watching Fern. Once again, Fern sighed and shook his head, calling back one last time as he turned to go back to the market. "And to your friends: Kismet is trouble! Just saying - they're going to get you caught one day!"

"Bastard!" Kismet yelled in response, and Fern heard the two quills that he didn't know erupt into laughter. He didn't turn around, but he smirked, shaking his head. He should just hope that Kismet really didn't get themself - or anyone else - caught.

fern:
age
+ tiny back wings
+ thumbs

maharu:
+ hair tuft

austin and his ori belong to

max wyn

Description
I literally could not get myself to continue this comic so I'm updating this with story in the description.

Fern was out today to buy groceries. He didn't really want to be out, but here he was. In all honesty, though, better than being stuck on the farm getting nagged by his "family" all day, so he'd taken his turn to go to the market in stride.

He glanced over the list the woman that he used to call mother had given him, looking at his surroundings as he went. There were a lot of herbs and spices that he was tempted to buy just for the heck of it, but no, he would stick to the list. Just the list. Anything other than that would be excessive and imply that he cared, or that he tasted the food that he put in his mouth at the family dinner table anymore.

The newly-grown adult almost had his bag filled with the necessary items when he was sliding past an ori and his handler. The ori was apparently a male, as he overheard the discussion between the handler and the merchant that he was addressing, and of course, Fern could see the bright colors. It wasn't entirely unusual to see male oris around, especially if they were being trained to get accustomed to their surroundings, but Fern had honestly never been that close to one before. He was used to the couple of females that they kept on the farm, especially Stream, but the male was more compact and lively.

He was a little ways beyond the two when there was a loud pop! behind him. He whirled around as the ori made an alarmed noise and a small cloud of colorful dust rose into the air. "Woah, woah!" The ori's handler had his hands raised as he made an attempt to stop the beast from panicking at the sudden loud noise. "C'mon now, calm down!"

The handler seemed to be having a tough time getting his ori under control, as each time he would make a grab for the reins or try to get to his side to reach for the saddle the ori would jolt away or turn around violently. Fern grit his teeth - he was no stranger to startled oris, though this was the first time he'd handled one personally. One of their oris - one of the two besides Stream - was jittery and nervous, and startled at the littlest thing if she didn't have her blinds on. He dropped his bag on the ground in preparation to mimic the movements he'd seen his father and older sister make dozens of times, clenching his jaw and cracking his knuckles.

A roll of his shoulders to loosen his muscles, and he charged at the ori from behind, ducking to just barely miss a swing from the beast's tail. It was too preoccupied with dodging its handler to notice a second wyngro coming up from behind, and Fern made a quick grab for the saddle while it was busy thrashing its head away from its owner. One food in the stirrup, swing the other leg over before the beast had time to realize what was happening - then grab at the reins and give it a firm pull, enough to make the ori realize that someone had mounted it. He still wiggled under Fern a bit, but with his hold on it both in his heels and his hands, as well as a few standard, soothing, "Woah, woah there"s in tandem with the ori's owner, it finally managed to calm down. He let out a final snort as he lowered his head into his handler's outstretched hands. Neither of them noticed a pair of attentive golden eyes watching the scene unfurl, transfixed on Fern's figure.

When Fern was sure that it would be alright, his slid off of the ori, handing his owner the reins. "Thanks," the black and white gro said graciously, scratching behind his head while Fern gave him a nod. "I'm sure I would've gotten him to calm down in the end, but it's a lot easier when you have someone helping out. I'll pay for any damaged goods," he added to the stall owner that he'd previously been talking to, looking thoroughly apologetic.

Fern was going to pick up his bag, leaving the two of them to negotiations, when he noticed a strangely familiar color darting down an alleyway. He squinted after it, frowning and straightening up. "... Kismet?" he mumbled, following after the wyngling. He had a strange feeling that they were involved with what had just transpired. By now, all of the rest of his shopping list had been forgotten and abandoned in favor of sating his curiosity.

He followed the twists and turns of this particular alleyway until he came to a little fortress made of a few crates stacked together, where he heard voices inside of one of them. Fern approached silently, then leaned over to look in. "Aha!" he crowed, reaching in to snap up Kismet by their scruff. "And just what were you doing in the market?" he asked sternly, placing them down on top of the crate they'd just been inside of. He hadn't failed to notice the two dark quills who were inside either, though they had fallen silent and didn't come out, like they were hiding. Nor had he failed to notice the pile of goodies that they had inside, a mass of food that would feed a wyngling like Kismet for days.

Kismet didn't answer his question, instead fixing him with a cold glare. Fern sighed, pinching his brows to avoid the headache that was coming on. "I'm not going to report you or anything. I was just going to say that if you want food, you know you can come to my place. I'd be happy to give you pretty much whatever, not like my family cares what I do with our food."

"It's not just for me!" Kismet barked out, finally responding to him. They still glowered for a moment before looking off into the distance, somewhere down the alley. "You only give me enough for me and maybe one other person. I need to feed my family on the streets. There are a lot of other wynglings out here who don't know how to survive as well as I do, but they refuse to go to the nook, so they need someone to look after them." They glanced back at him with an appraising look, giving him a quick one-over out of the corner of their eye. "Besides that, when did you grow up?"

"A while ago. You haven't come by in a hot second, Kismet," Fern said, shaking his head. "If you need more, I can get you more. I can even bring it all the way to you now that I'm bigger. All you have to do is tell me what I should bring." Without thinking further, he pulled a bottle of rattle cow milk out of the side pocket of his bag and sat it down in front of Kismet. "Here. Take this for today, I'm sure you couldn't snatch any of that with that stunt you just pulled." He straightened up and ran his hands over his hair tuft with another deep sigh, shaking his head. "You know where to find me for now. I'll try to let you know when I decide to leave."

Kismet didn't respond any further, just watching Fern. Once again, Fern sighed and shook his head, calling back one last time as he turned to go back to the market. "And to your friends: Kismet is trouble! Just saying - they're going to get you caught one day!"

"Bastard!" Kismet yelled in response, and Fern heard the two quills that he didn't know erupt into laughter. He didn't turn around, but he smirked, shaking his head. He should just hope that Kismet really didn't get themself - or anyone else - caught.

fern:
age
+ tiny back wings
+ thumbs

maharu:
+ hair tuft

austin and his ori belong to

max wyn