[b]Starting Date and Time:[/b] 8th Jadeyan 301 DM. 19th stretch. [b]Starting Location:[/b] In the forest just east of Silent Rise [b]CS URLs:[/b] [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/83037-ebonfort/char?page=2#post-3195097]Ahmal Ervallen[/url] and [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/83037-ebonfort/char#post-2908645]Lyriia Elenye[/url] [hr] All was quiet in the forest. Nothing moved, not even the crickets chirping as dusk fell. It was too quiet. The world held its breath. There! A disturbance! A holly bush rustled slightly. Then more, and more, until it seemed as if the whole bush was convulsing. Then, with a snapping sound, and a squeak from some small creature within the bush, the shaking abruptly halted, and a small blue-and-red object bounced out of the bottom branches of the tree. As the rolling object slowed and spread itself out, it became clear that it was not one, but two objects. The first was rather plain to look at, a bright red holly berry. But the second… it would have taken an observer a moment to sort out the tumble of tiny limbs and iridescent membranes. It was a small fairy, her blue wings limp with exhaustion, light blue tunic streaked with sap and bits of mulch. Lyriia groaned to herself as she tried to find her feet after going sprawling for the thousandth time. Fairies were [i]not[/i] made for herb gathering. And when it was a tired fairy who was even smaller than the vast majority of her race… it was a wonder she hadn’t passed out yet. For the hundredth time, Lyriia looked at the square of paper that her master had given her. She had to squint to make out the letters—when had it gotten this dark? She hadn’t been able to find all the plants that Master Longarm had wanted. It had taken all day, too; she’d turned out of bed just as the watch had called the fourth stretch, and she was only about halfway done with the list now. But it was getting dark, and she was too tired to keep her eyes open. Heading home would be the best thing for her. The girl stuffed the troublesome holly berries into the already-overfilled satchel she carried, wincing as the straps dug further into her shoulders. Joys of being so little: even fairy-sized clothing and equipment didn’t quite fit right. She tried to flutter up into the sky, to get her directional bearings, but the backpack was too heavy. Grumbling to herself, she took it off and launched into the air without a problem. But then, as she got up above the trees (which was a feat in itself; the trees here were [i]enormous[/i]), there was another problem: the moon and sun and stars were totally obscured by clouds, leaving her utterly without a sense of direction. And with no line of sight to the village… she had no idea where she was. She set down on the ground, trying to figure out where her trail was. Ah, there. She could always follow her trail back, though then she’d be out all night. A sound behind her made her whirl, her hand going to the dagger on her hip. In the darkness she tripped over the bag of herbs and went sprawling. Dimly she saw a pair of glowing yellow-orange eyes, just for a second. Then she was on her feet and launched into the air, hovering a few feet above the ground. Maybe less of a target that way. A low growl seemed to echo in the woods around her as she turned, fear making her forget her fatigue. She couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. There. Eyes. Gleaming up at her. From right underneath— She shot upwards into the air a split second before pointed fangs snapped shut right where she had been. In terror she shouted, then realized that was probably the worst thing she could have done. In her panic she flew off between the trees, trying to do anything to put distance between herself and that… thing. A glance over her shoulder revealed those bright, unsettling eyes jumping between the trees following her. She darted upwards, thinking to go up where the branches were thin, maybe not able to support the weight of her attacker. Diving into a hollow in the tree trunk, barely big enough to hold her, she said a prayer that the cat…whatever it was… wouldn’t find her. For several moments, which seemed like an eternity to the small fairy, all was entirely quiet. She’d relaxed enough that she had nearly gathered the courage to climb out of the hollow. And then there was a scratching sound.