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+ accessory
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Rook swayed on her perch in a branch, cooing over the feathers sprouting on the edges of her arms. She'd be a bird in no time, she figured. Slowly, she scrambled down from the tree she was sitting in, casting a wistful look at a flock of birds that passed overheard. She'd lived alone most of her life, or, well, at least since she'd gotten lost in the Caravine Cliffs and couldn't get back to the Nook. She was, she had to admit, happier getting to live out here on her own. In the Nook, she'd always been so very cramped, and kept knocking things off of shelves when she tried to climb up them to make attempts to jump and fly. Out here, she'd been able to stretch out her limbs, to run and jump and climb without getting told to stop before she hurt someone. And it was truly wonderful. She'd been able to go on so many adventures, although she was sure that most grown wyngrew wouldn't really call them 'adventures'. More like 'escapades'.

Regardless, Rook had begun to grow lonely, out here on her own and lost. She'd been trying to find her way back to Wynsiph for quite a while at this point, weeks on end, and with no luck. Frankly, she hadn't expected the Caravine Cliffs to be quite as hard to get lost in as others had said before she'd wandered out and gotten, well, lost. The cliffs seemed to go on forever, and she try though she did to sprout wings abruptly an take off to the sky to see from a bird's eye view, or climb to the tops of trees in the hopes of seeing over the cliffs' edges, the wings never came and the trees were never tall enough.

So she just kept wandering. She was tired since an owl had chased her out of the burrow she was going to use last night, and didn't want to sleep out in the cold. She was also a bit hungry, though she had been for a little while now. Winter had meant the berries she usually ate had died back, though she did manage to find a few plants that still grew in winter. Luckily, none of them had made her sick yet.

It was because of the weariness dragging down her steps as she headed away from the tree, that she didn't notice that the ground was sloping upwards. The grass mixed with stones that she'd been walking on for weeks now was slowly turning more into thick swaths of weeds and grass that was still around despite the winter chills. Rook let out a soft wheeze as a gust of wind hit her. She'd been very fond of the wind and the breezes in the Cliffs, in fact it made her feel like she could do almost anything, but when she was so tired, she felt more like she'd fall over at the next strong gust. Blinking sleep away from her eyes, she glanced up to see if she'd made any progress.

The sleep vanished almost instantly when she saw the woods stretch out ahead of her. A forest was new, but had she made it out of the cliffs? Rook turned to glance behind her, and let out a shrill squeal when she saw that she had, indeed, stumbled on a path that led up and out of the cliffs. However....her head tipped and she looked back to the forest. She couldn't really see any civilization around it. Certainly not Wynsiph. Although, the types of trees did bring back memories of Auranna Forest, even if they didn't have leaves now. Was that what this forest was? Jaw parting in a grin, she decided that if it was, Wynsiph couldn't be further than the other side. She'd likely just gone in a circle around in the Cliffs, and ended up around behind the forest instead of not far from Wynsiph.

Ecstatic, Rook took off towards the woods, all weariness gone. She loved to be alone and out where she could have fun by herself, but being without a single other wyngro was bound to tear anyone's morale away sooner or later. And now she could head back to Wynsiph! With luck, she could avoid being stuck in the Nook again.

She slowed when she reached the edge of the forest, peering around through the trees. It all seemed so...enclosed. A bird squawked, which made her jump, but merely its presence was reassuring as she peered up at it. It peered back, then took off and flew away. After it left, Rook shuddered at having to go on without anyone else, even a wild bird. Her feet seemed to make too much noise, and all the bare-branched trees looked like zombies ready to snatch her away. Winter was perhaps the least pleasant time she could have ended up in a forest. The branches were so thick that they still blocked the sky further up, an only little dappled spots of light made it down to where she was.

Rook paused, nostrils flaring at the weird smells of the forest. Although she couldn't identify them, the reek of mushrooms and animals and other weeds were filling the air around her. She slunk through the forest, slowly gaining confidence. There was nothing bad about the woods, and nothing to be scared of. With her head held high, she increased her pace to a trot, bounding over roots and sticks. She was distracted when she was a piece of the woods' floor with flattened down grass, mostly dirt. A path! An a path meant that it was bound to lead to Wynsiph or at least somewhere she could get directions. She headed down it swiftly.

She hadn't gone far, however, when a new smell arrived. It smelled dead, with the stink of rot layered below it. She shuddered at the thought of running into a dead animal out here, an glanced around, wondering if she could see it. Her earnubs flicked up again when, instead of a corpse like she'd feared, she saw several long weeds, twining around each other. That was weird, she decided. Plants didn't usually grow in braids.

There were more of these braided plants as she continued, until she started to get the idea that perhaps this path was old and forgotten, and she'd discovered a new type of plant. Gazing down at one, she blinked in surprise when she saw a few more clumps of braided grass, next to a pair of goggles. The strap of it seemed to be a part of one braided plant, but when Rook gripped the edges of the goggles in her mouth, the braid easily came undone and let go of the goggles' strap. Rook let out a happy squeak as she turned it over in her paws before trying to slide it on. It smelled a bit like another wyngro, but if they wanted it, they wouldn't have left it out here, right? Finders keepers, and she could imagine how cool she'd look flying with goggles on. All she needed now was a scarf.

She would have gotten confident again if it weren't for the everpresent smell of death and fear. Where WAS it coming from? She faltered an gagged when she spotted several drips of blood over the edge of the branch of one large tree, and leading away into the bushes. Was that where the smell came from? She wanted to investigate, but the smell was nearly intoxicating. She froze abruptly at a soft sound in the bushes off to the other side of her, and crouched down. The chittering hissing noise didn't sound friendly in the slightest, but she couldn't see the source through the shadows of the woods and the plants it made sure to stay near and blend in with.

"H-hello?" Rook tried. Perhaps it was just a wild wyngro who was afraid to approach her. She made a move for the bushes ahead, then jumped back when a clawed hand briefly swiped out. Her heart pounded in her chest so loudly she feared the creature would hear her. "I'm not here to h-hurt you."

Another chittering hiss, an Rook could see bulbous eyes when the creature moved. Her ears drooped and she stared up at it through the goggles in fear. That was not a wyngro. Its head snaked upwards on a twisted neck, and it had no arms, at least not on its body. Instead, in the place its ears should be, there were the long arms and the clawed fingers. Rook wouldn't have known what to call it, but the kindrin grinned down at Rook an leaped forward, barely missing catching one of her legs as she turned and bolted, moving faster than she thought she ever had. She heard movement out of several other places in the woods around her, and even without glancing behind she was sure it was more of those monstrosities.

Even with the sharp turns she made and the places she tucked through in the hopes to lose it, it seemed the nostrils on its belly wouldn't lose track of the fear and horror rolling off of her like waves. It leaped over bushes and barely noticed roots as it took chase, gaining quickly and easily.

Rook was nearly in tears out of pure panic, letting out short wheezes as she felt claws scrape the back of her leg and lose grip only because of how she twisted and fell over, down a rocky slope before hurtling on. She could see the bulbous eyes of others out of the corner of her eyes, no doubt encircling her to make the catch even easier, and despair hit Rook's mind harder than any fall to the ground would. There was no chance she'd outrun them if they decided to chase her more seriously, but she wouldn't ever be able to bring herself to just give in.

Her yellow eyes swiveled to the side as she noticed a deeper shadow in the ground. A burrow. Turning sharply, Rook shot down the burrow a small animal had dug, backing up as far as she could get into it and waiting as she heard the sounds of the kindrin above. The light going down the burrow was blocked when one stepped in front, and its clawed hand-ear swung inside the mouth of the burrow, snatching at Rook's face. She let out a shrill squeak when it scraped the edge of her hind leg, and she scrambled backwards to try and keep out of its reach. There were sounds of feral argument among the spites as they grew furious over losing their meal, and to Rook it felt like forever before they stopped trying to reach her and left.

She wheezed, crying with relief an remaining panic when she finally heard their footsteps fade. Reaching Wynsiph was not worth this struggle. Slowly, as weariness caught up with her an her fear drained her energy, she sagged to the dirt floor of the burrow, choking on sobs, and fell asleep quickly, not capable of remaining conscious any longer to fear if the kindrin could come back and reach her now. At least, for now, she was alive.

Description

Previous | First | Next |

+ accessory
+ pupils
+ tiny arm wings

4/166

Rook swayed on her perch in a branch, cooing over the feathers sprouting on the edges of her arms. She'd be a bird in no time, she figured. Slowly, she scrambled down from the tree she was sitting in, casting a wistful look at a flock of birds that passed overheard. She'd lived alone most of her life, or, well, at least since she'd gotten lost in the Caravine Cliffs and couldn't get back to the Nook. She was, she had to admit, happier getting to live out here on her own. In the Nook, she'd always been so very cramped, and kept knocking things off of shelves when she tried to climb up them to make attempts to jump and fly. Out here, she'd been able to stretch out her limbs, to run and jump and climb without getting told to stop before she hurt someone. And it was truly wonderful. She'd been able to go on so many adventures, although she was sure that most grown wyngrew wouldn't really call them 'adventures'. More like 'escapades'.

Regardless, Rook had begun to grow lonely, out here on her own and lost. She'd been trying to find her way back to Wynsiph for quite a while at this point, weeks on end, and with no luck. Frankly, she hadn't expected the Caravine Cliffs to be quite as hard to get lost in as others had said before she'd wandered out and gotten, well, lost. The cliffs seemed to go on forever, and she try though she did to sprout wings abruptly an take off to the sky to see from a bird's eye view, or climb to the tops of trees in the hopes of seeing over the cliffs' edges, the wings never came and the trees were never tall enough.

So she just kept wandering. She was tired since an owl had chased her out of the burrow she was going to use last night, and didn't want to sleep out in the cold. She was also a bit hungry, though she had been for a little while now. Winter had meant the berries she usually ate had died back, though she did manage to find a few plants that still grew in winter. Luckily, none of them had made her sick yet.

It was because of the weariness dragging down her steps as she headed away from the tree, that she didn't notice that the ground was sloping upwards. The grass mixed with stones that she'd been walking on for weeks now was slowly turning more into thick swaths of weeds and grass that was still around despite the winter chills. Rook let out a soft wheeze as a gust of wind hit her. She'd been very fond of the wind and the breezes in the Cliffs, in fact it made her feel like she could do almost anything, but when she was so tired, she felt more like she'd fall over at the next strong gust. Blinking sleep away from her eyes, she glanced up to see if she'd made any progress.

The sleep vanished almost instantly when she saw the woods stretch out ahead of her. A forest was new, but had she made it out of the cliffs? Rook turned to glance behind her, and let out a shrill squeal when she saw that she had, indeed, stumbled on a path that led up and out of the cliffs. However....her head tipped and she looked back to the forest. She couldn't really see any civilization around it. Certainly not Wynsiph. Although, the types of trees did bring back memories of Auranna Forest, even if they didn't have leaves now. Was that what this forest was? Jaw parting in a grin, she decided that if it was, Wynsiph couldn't be further than the other side. She'd likely just gone in a circle around in the Cliffs, and ended up around behind the forest instead of not far from Wynsiph.

Ecstatic, Rook took off towards the woods, all weariness gone. She loved to be alone and out where she could have fun by herself, but being without a single other wyngro was bound to tear anyone's morale away sooner or later. And now she could head back to Wynsiph! With luck, she could avoid being stuck in the Nook again.

She slowed when she reached the edge of the forest, peering around through the trees. It all seemed so...enclosed. A bird squawked, which made her jump, but merely its presence was reassuring as she peered up at it. It peered back, then took off and flew away. After it left, Rook shuddered at having to go on without anyone else, even a wild bird. Her feet seemed to make too much noise, and all the bare-branched trees looked like zombies ready to snatch her away. Winter was perhaps the least pleasant time she could have ended up in a forest. The branches were so thick that they still blocked the sky further up, an only little dappled spots of light made it down to where she was.

Rook paused, nostrils flaring at the weird smells of the forest. Although she couldn't identify them, the reek of mushrooms and animals and other weeds were filling the air around her. She slunk through the forest, slowly gaining confidence. There was nothing bad about the woods, and nothing to be scared of. With her head held high, she increased her pace to a trot, bounding over roots and sticks. She was distracted when she was a piece of the woods' floor with flattened down grass, mostly dirt. A path! An a path meant that it was bound to lead to Wynsiph or at least somewhere she could get directions. She headed down it swiftly.

She hadn't gone far, however, when a new smell arrived. It smelled dead, with the stink of rot layered below it. She shuddered at the thought of running into a dead animal out here, an glanced around, wondering if she could see it. Her earnubs flicked up again when, instead of a corpse like she'd feared, she saw several long weeds, twining around each other. That was weird, she decided. Plants didn't usually grow in braids.

There were more of these braided plants as she continued, until she started to get the idea that perhaps this path was old and forgotten, and she'd discovered a new type of plant. Gazing down at one, she blinked in surprise when she saw a few more clumps of braided grass, next to a pair of goggles. The strap of it seemed to be a part of one braided plant, but when Rook gripped the edges of the goggles in her mouth, the braid easily came undone and let go of the goggles' strap. Rook let out a happy squeak as she turned it over in her paws before trying to slide it on. It smelled a bit like another wyngro, but if they wanted it, they wouldn't have left it out here, right? Finders keepers, and she could imagine how cool she'd look flying with goggles on. All she needed now was a scarf.

She would have gotten confident again if it weren't for the everpresent smell of death and fear. Where WAS it coming from? She faltered an gagged when she spotted several drips of blood over the edge of the branch of one large tree, and leading away into the bushes. Was that where the smell came from? She wanted to investigate, but the smell was nearly intoxicating. She froze abruptly at a soft sound in the bushes off to the other side of her, and crouched down. The chittering hissing noise didn't sound friendly in the slightest, but she couldn't see the source through the shadows of the woods and the plants it made sure to stay near and blend in with.

"H-hello?" Rook tried. Perhaps it was just a wild wyngro who was afraid to approach her. She made a move for the bushes ahead, then jumped back when a clawed hand briefly swiped out. Her heart pounded in her chest so loudly she feared the creature would hear her. "I'm not here to h-hurt you."

Another chittering hiss, an Rook could see bulbous eyes when the creature moved. Her ears drooped and she stared up at it through the goggles in fear. That was not a wyngro. Its head snaked upwards on a twisted neck, and it had no arms, at least not on its body. Instead, in the place its ears should be, there were the long arms and the clawed fingers. Rook wouldn't have known what to call it, but the kindrin grinned down at Rook an leaped forward, barely missing catching one of her legs as she turned and bolted, moving faster than she thought she ever had. She heard movement out of several other places in the woods around her, and even without glancing behind she was sure it was more of those monstrosities.

Even with the sharp turns she made and the places she tucked through in the hopes to lose it, it seemed the nostrils on its belly wouldn't lose track of the fear and horror rolling off of her like waves. It leaped over bushes and barely noticed roots as it took chase, gaining quickly and easily.

Rook was nearly in tears out of pure panic, letting out short wheezes as she felt claws scrape the back of her leg and lose grip only because of how she twisted and fell over, down a rocky slope before hurtling on. She could see the bulbous eyes of others out of the corner of her eyes, no doubt encircling her to make the catch even easier, and despair hit Rook's mind harder than any fall to the ground would. There was no chance she'd outrun them if they decided to chase her more seriously, but she wouldn't ever be able to bring herself to just give in.

Her yellow eyes swiveled to the side as she noticed a deeper shadow in the ground. A burrow. Turning sharply, Rook shot down the burrow a small animal had dug, backing up as far as she could get into it and waiting as she heard the sounds of the kindrin above. The light going down the burrow was blocked when one stepped in front, and its clawed hand-ear swung inside the mouth of the burrow, snatching at Rook's face. She let out a shrill squeak when it scraped the edge of her hind leg, and she scrambled backwards to try and keep out of its reach. There were sounds of feral argument among the spites as they grew furious over losing their meal, and to Rook it felt like forever before they stopped trying to reach her and left.

She wheezed, crying with relief an remaining panic when she finally heard their footsteps fade. Reaching Wynsiph was not worth this struggle. Slowly, as weariness caught up with her an her fear drained her energy, she sagged to the dirt floor of the burrow, choking on sobs, and fell asleep quickly, not capable of remaining conscious any longer to fear if the kindrin could come back and reach her now. At least, for now, she was alive.