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Description
At some point, the fleeing shadows had had to split up, spread out. The order had come harshly whispered from the front, likely Wes and Stor (Locke was missing, as well as a good amount of others- Naomi's brood was scattered, some had had to be left amongst the Austers. No one had seen their mother, either.); there was a pack of guards and the like after them, they needed to scatter.

Lear had slipped off wordlessly, wounds still dripping. He could hear some protesting behind him, more shouting; his tail lashed. This wasn't the time to be questioning their high admirals, not if they didn't wanted to be herded around like Auster's pets. A number had been caught at the front, unable to flee.

He heard hoof beats behind him, at some point, but they changed course. Guard or another shadow, he didn't look. He kept the same main direction; they'd need to group back eventually, when the rest gave up.

There was still blood in his bad eye, Lear could feel it. He shook his head, not that it did much good. It was still dark, and a few trees were scattered about. The ground wasn't firm, and Lear found himself envying the linx with their non solid feet. His hooves were bulky, heavy, in one solid wedge. There was moss, here and there. He wasn't entirely sure where he was.

He blinked his good eye. Something lighter caught the moonlight, amidst moss. He turned himself, ambling that way, and stopping short. Moss, mounded up, dragged this way, into a heap. A round, oval- ....egg. His scybillian instincts knew what an egg was.

It seemed oddly sized, something or another off about it; he didn't know what. He wasn't a femme, he didn't see to eggs. If he'd sired a set, he'd have nested them just as well, but he had not.

It'd be one of theirs, or one of the enemy scybillians, he thought. Laid on the way in, and left for later, or on the way out. He opened his jaws, carefully, slowly- pressing the lower jaw, weighing down the moss. The egg rolled, into his jaws, and ever so carefully, he closed the top jaw more, to hold it, lifted his head up, and began to move on.

It was his, now, anyway. He'd keep it intact, and if there was a femme mourning an abandoned nest when they regrouped, he could drop it to them. Not out of kindness, but he had other things to do if he could.

Featuring Lear , Mysterious egg,
Early Winter, Year 1996
Somewhere near Auster territory
WC: 425

Theft
+2 ____ - Headshot/Partial-body + Detailed BG - Theft
+4 ____ - 400-999 Word Lit + Collaborative Lit - Theft
+1 ____ - Mini-Event Response (Lit)
Ritual and Sacrifice | Mass Battle RP - Part III

+1 Teleportation Magic (From Dragon/Egg, being applied so dont add this to stats till it is self)

Description
At some point, the fleeing shadows had had to split up, spread out. The order had come harshly whispered from the front, likely Wes and Stor (Locke was missing, as well as a good amount of others- Naomi's brood was scattered, some had had to be left amongst the Austers. No one had seen their mother, either.); there was a pack of guards and the like after them, they needed to scatter.

Lear had slipped off wordlessly, wounds still dripping. He could hear some protesting behind him, more shouting; his tail lashed. This wasn't the time to be questioning their high admirals, not if they didn't wanted to be herded around like Auster's pets. A number had been caught at the front, unable to flee.

He heard hoof beats behind him, at some point, but they changed course. Guard or another shadow, he didn't look. He kept the same main direction; they'd need to group back eventually, when the rest gave up.

There was still blood in his bad eye, Lear could feel it. He shook his head, not that it did much good. It was still dark, and a few trees were scattered about. The ground wasn't firm, and Lear found himself envying the linx with their non solid feet. His hooves were bulky, heavy, in one solid wedge. There was moss, here and there. He wasn't entirely sure where he was.

He blinked his good eye. Something lighter caught the moonlight, amidst moss. He turned himself, ambling that way, and stopping short. Moss, mounded up, dragged this way, into a heap. A round, oval- ....egg. His scybillian instincts knew what an egg was.

It seemed oddly sized, something or another off about it; he didn't know what. He wasn't a femme, he didn't see to eggs. If he'd sired a set, he'd have nested them just as well, but he had not.

It'd be one of theirs, or one of the enemy scybillians, he thought. Laid on the way in, and left for later, or on the way out. He opened his jaws, carefully, slowly- pressing the lower jaw, weighing down the moss. The egg rolled, into his jaws, and ever so carefully, he closed the top jaw more, to hold it, lifted his head up, and began to move on.

It was his, now, anyway. He'd keep it intact, and if there was a femme mourning an abandoned nest when they regrouped, he could drop it to them. Not out of kindness, but he had other things to do if he could.

Featuring Lear , Mysterious egg,
Early Winter, Year 1996
Somewhere near Auster territory
WC: 425

Theft
+2 ____ - Headshot/Partial-body + Detailed BG - Theft
+4 ____ - 400-999 Word Lit + Collaborative Lit - Theft
+1 ____ - Mini-Event Response (Lit)
Ritual and Sacrifice | Mass Battle RP - Part III

+1 Teleportation Magic (From Dragon/Egg, being applied so dont add this to stats till it is self)