OoC - 2° Mia 81380. BiC - Riot couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in her quadruped shift. She’d been spending the last few months dealing with too many “contemporary" matters, and hadn’t taken the time to tap into her more “primitive" feral side. But, today that was going to change. With nothing on her schedule, and nobody to report to for at least twenty-four hours, the thill decided it was high time to retreat somewhere by herself, and enjoy the simplicity of running about on all fours. Originally, she had wanted to seek solace in the mountains of Watani, but since she’d started the day on the Janardan campus – she’d spent the night with Cayson and Radin in their dormitory – she decided not to stray very far. Now, four feet fleet beneath her, she slipped into the woods not far from the academy’s many buildings, complexes, and laboratories, back towards a lake she had been to only once before. It was longer than it was wide, and as Riot sank to her haunches on the shore, she mused over the last and only time she had been here. But dwelling on her dark past was nothing something she wanted to do – if anything, the young female was eager to revel in more recent happenings, like her relationship with Cayson. Though they’d been together for weeks now, she never failed to smile and laugh to herself when thoughts of him flitted through her mind. In fact, whenever the orange arden stole into her brain, she found that she had to walk or run around to work off the nervous, excited energy that would be twitching through every muscle in her body. Now, as an image of her “mate" floated through her mind, Riot stood, and began to lope around the lake’s edge, unable to sit still. Her small white paws beat a steady tattoo as she turned her head sideways. The dying forest was reflected in the water’s quiet surface, though a chilly breeze stirred across it, creating ripples. Turning away, the thill slipped further into the forest, her tail head and tail high as she pranced amongst the early winter’s wood.
No, no, that wasn't it. Khuta strum the chords on his old guitar again. No, that wasn't it either. What was the song that he kept hearing in his head but cannot play? It was frustrating, like a piece of puzzle you cannot solve. The youth had come into the forest for a little breath of fresh air from all the work he had to do in campus. Homework, homework, and more homework. Did the teachers think of nothing else? He moved a little on the big branch he lying down on. The wheather was cold but he didn't mind. He wasn't scared of the cold. But he was afraid that the branch might give way and he'd drop to the hard ground. Fed up of getting the correct tune, he played the song he had composed months ago. It was about a feeling he would never experience. The feeling of holding someone close, coming home to a smiling face... the feeling of love. He smirked to himself. How much of a helpless romantic can he get? The song was a little haunting, but yet have that tinge of innocence. He didn't feel like singing so he let his fingers do the work. He moved in his place again. The branch wasn't much of a comforting couch. But the moment he did that, his fears became true. There was a loud snap and his seat gave way. He spreaded his mismatched wings to fly off but was a little bit too late and he hit the leaf covered ground with a thud. Sitting up, he inspected his right side for any wounds. When he found none, he thought that it was a miracle that he fell from such a high place with no scracthes. Then he looked for his guitar. Another miracle. Except for a few scratches, it wasn't broken. It sounded like it needs some tuning, though. So worried was he about his guitar, he didn't notice that a stranger was walking closer to him.
Salme watched the sky fervently, her eyes squinted against the sunÂ’s rays. Her trisk, Inarik, was circling somewhere overhead, or so she hoped. He had been gone for well over an hour, plenty of time to catch a meal and come back. With any luck he was simply having a hard time locating her through the foliage. Inarik had been restless, so Salme had decided she would take him out for a little hunt before any pressing matters came up later in the day. She knew there were some things she needed to do, but they could always wait till last minute. Inarik was more important anyway. Salme and her silver trisk had wandered away from Janardan grounds to find a fairly secluded area. They ended up in a small wood not to far away. A lovely spot. Salme scanned what she could of the sky through the tree tops. So far she had seen a couple birds, but none big enough to be Inarik. She was always careful not to stray too far from where Inarik had left her. She was sure she had not gone too far, but she began to doubt herself. She was starting to worry about him. What if something had happened to him? She would not be able to live with herself. Granted, it was not another pendragonÂ’s life she was thinking about, but Inarik was her pet and just as important. He was usually gone no longer than a half hour, and always came back with a blood stained beak, protruding belly and a strangely satisfied air. But not this time. He was late. Maybe thatÂ’s it, heÂ’s just late, Salme thought as she padded clumsily down a small hill, her nose pointed directly up. She didnÂ’t know what to do. This had never happened. Her muscles twitched suddenly, reminding her of the wings she hid beneath her fur. No, she didnÂ’t have to use them just yet. Something in her told her to just suck it up and fly, but she didnÂ’t want to unless it was a last resort. Another idea came to her, and she let out a long whistle. Hopefully Inarik remembered the exercise they had practiced together in his early training. She tried a couple more times but got no response. After a few tries, she heard a noise. Her hopes skyrocketed before she realized the sound was not bird-like at all. She continued towards the sound, temporarily abandoning her attempts to contact her trisk. It sounded like music, but she could not be sure. Then the music suddenly halted and was followed by a loud crack and then a thud. She watched as a flock of birds erupted from the forest into the sky. Pressing her ears against the back of her head, she walked towards the sound to see what happened. <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>Couldn't help myself. And awsome siggy by the way, Stormeh.</td></tr></table>
White paws quickly got soiled – recent rains had churned the dirt into a gritty, muddy mixture. Riot didn’t mind, though. As she moved through the trees, her spiky ruff tousled by occasional early Mia winds, she was too focused on the view. The last of fall’s colors were fading and falling away from the trees, and naked limbs raked at the gray sky. The air was crisp, cold, and fresh, and the young thill felt invigorated as she glided smoothly between the trees. Her mind was blissfully blank, and she had nothing to think or worry about. All she had to do was keep walkin’, and enjoy the scenery. After about twenty minutes’ worth of threading through the woodlands, Riot came upon a puddle. She peered into its crystalline shallows, and eyed her reflection. Her muzzle was sharp and blunt, her ears larger than average. The white band around her maw was a nice complement to the brown tinge of her fur, and her bi-toned eyes were gorgeous. Riot smiled at herself, and then lifted a white forepaw, quickly distorting the image of herself. Then, with head and tail still high, she set off into the forest once more, her lope eating up the ground. It was as she was running, carefree and wild, that she heard the odd noise. At first, it sounded like distant music. This stopped though, and a few seconds later, she heard the unmistakable sound of a breaking tree branch, and an unceremonious crash. Riot pricked her white ears, and then veered smoothly in the direction of the noise. It sounded like someone had taken a nasty fall out of a tree, and the thill was interested in seeing what had happened. She might decide to help, too.
Two tails spread out opposite ways, left leg tucked under him and right leg out, he made the fine adjustments to his guitar. When it was done, he set the guitar down beside him and checked himself again. No scratch, nothing. But he could feel a throb somewhere on his leg and was sure he would get a big bruise later tonight. He looked at the tree he had fallen from. The branch he sat on was hanging by the old tree's side as if it were a dangling arm. It was held only by it's fiber... or bark. Whatever. Khuta wasn't a plant expert. He does know however, that he wasn't going to go near any tree again. Or at least sit on one of it's branches. Everytime he did, unfortunate luck would always befall him. He got up and brushed the leaves off himself. Those dry fallen leaves. He silently watched them fall as he thought back his childhood when he would play with these leaves with his parents. One leave fell and made a crunching sound. Normally, leaves are too light to make a sound when fallen, correct? So imagine his surprise when it did. Oh, wait. That was just his imagination. His ears twiched towards the sound of approaching footsteps. Not made by one person by but two. Both were coming from different directions. He first saw a skinny cream colored pendragon. Before he could even speak, he saw another pendragon, this one brown and white. Was his crash that loud? Was the whole school coming? Or was it because they were just nearby? Err... Hi? was all he said, his eyes looking behind them to see if really, the whole school was coming.
Salme’s steps got heavier and heavier with each passing moment, trailing along lower and lower to the ground. She continued her vigilant watch of the sky, but nothing came of it. Her neck started to ache, and her paws began to trail in the dirt. She knew she would trip soon if she continued this way. She alternated her gaze every few seconds, looking at the ground and then the sky. The constant motion soon set her head spinning. Worrisome thoughts concerning the fate of her beloved pet started to wander through her mind, pushing away everything elce. What if he had been eaten? What if he was hurt, and still alive? She could save him, she just needed to look. But where was he? She felt her heart beating faster, her adrenaline rushing. She needed to find him. As she came to this conclusion, one of her paws stubbed a rock. She stumbled forward, regaining herself after a few steps. “Err..Hi?" She heard. Her head flicked up, flinging a group of hairs into her face. She paused, slightly confused. Then, seeing the broken branch, she remembered the sound that had caused her to come in this direction. She looked at the two pendragons, and then the tree limb. It seemed a rather odd situation, and she would have asked them what they were doing breaking branches off of trees if she did not have a more pressing issue. “’Ello…" she stammered, climbing back to all fours and restoring her balance and whatever still remained of her dignity, “I’m sorry to bother you two and your…um…branch breaking, but have either of you seen a silver trisk flying around here perchance?" She knew it was a hopeless question even as she said it. A trisk was just another bird to most pendragons. Besides, why would they have reason to take note of her bird even if they did see him?
Riot came upon the “fallen one" at the same time as another stranger, and both of them were left peering at him, and the branch that was now dangling from the tree. The brown thill wondered if he had been sitting in it and playing music… The presence of the guitar at his side seemed to prove that he had, though she didn’t question him about it. Turning towards the other female, Riot’s tail flicked. “No. I haven’t seen any birds. I was just having a run, when I heard music, and then a branch falling…" She turned to the arden again. “You didn’t break anything, did you?" By this, she meant body parts, as well as his guitar.
The cream colored one spoke first. He thought back on how many trisk he had seen flying around. Khuta shook his head in reply. "Birds I saw but none were silver." He then folded his askewed wings behind his back as the brown one spoke. He believed he had seen her around the academy before. He tried to search for a name but found none. "That is what amuses me. I'm not much injured though I could be bruised." He reached for his guitar and after looking around for his leather guitar case, very gently put the guitar inside. He looked at the two femmes. "Not many students come into the woods. Are you both looking for trisks?"
Salme had not had much hope of their seeing Inarik, but with each negative answer, her hopes dropped even lower. She sighed a long, low sigh. It was useless. She perked her ears to the conversation that had been spurred up. It seemed the two where not acquainted as she first thought. She looked around, taking in the scene, and realized her first assessment of the situation was horridly wrong. “Whoah! I’m sorry. I thought you guys were um…breaking branches for fun…um never mind what I thought." She shook her head and smiled nervously. "Eh…well I am. I don’t know if she is…" She was beginning to feel very stupid. Just shut up.
As the others exchanged words, Riot slipped to her haunches. She kept her ears cocked, listening to their words. The male seemed to be all right despite his fall, but the thill seemed worried about her trisk. If Riot had had him around, she would have sent Scooter to look for the lost bird, but as it was, she was alone. She didn't even have the little valli in her pouch. I'm not looking for trisks. Well, she said after a pause, I wasn't. But now I'll keep an eye out. I was just having a run, exploring through the woods. I come here sometimes. I'm Riot Stormwing, by the way. Who are you two?
"No, we don't know each other." he said and gave a small smile. "Your trisk will be back, I'm sure." He then proceeded to sling his guitar case over his shoulder where it rested neatly between his mismatched wings. "I'm Khuta. And this here," he showed them the guitar on his back. "... is my baby, Chelsea." Now knowing the whole school isn't coming over to see his embarassing fall, he relaxed a little more. He shifted on his feet. He didn't want to be rude and just leave. He didn't want to stay in umcomfortable silence either. How he wished that there was going to be something exciting. He needed some adrenaline rush. Too bad that won't happen in this academy. <span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span> <table class='ooc'><tr><td>I'm really sorry about the late reply. I have some internet problems these past few weeks. Again, very sorry</td></tr></table>
Salme rubbed her neck nervously, trying to get her thoughts straitened out. Her mind wandered back and forth on whether or not it was rude to leave others that you just met to go look for a bird that was most likely gone by then anyway. It probably wouldnÂ’t be considered rude, or so she hoped, but even then she did not know where to go and look. She listened to the kind words of the others, which left her feeling a small bit comforted about the situation. She let out a sigh and decided to linger a little longer. "ThanksÂ…umÂ…ItÂ’s nice to meet you two. IÂ’m Salme" She said simply. She felt a bit awkward just standing there as well, so she offered up a topic. "ThatÂ’s a nice guitar." She said, gesturing towards the instrument despite the fact it was abundantly clear which guitar she was talking about.
Riot’s ears twitched as she listened to the other two introduce themselves, and she half expected them to go on and tell her their favorite foods, their mothers’ maiden names, perhaps even their preferred sports teams. However, what she got instead was an awkward silence, and the banded thill immediately knew she wanted to leave. She couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Well, Khuta, Salme… Chelsea. It’s been a blast running into you and all," Riot said, sweeping back onto her feet. “But seeing as you’re okay, Khuta, and don’t need any help, I don’t really see a reason to stick around. I’m going to continue on my walk." As if to demonstrate her point, Riot moved a few paces forwards, her white feet stirring in the leaf litter, before glancing one last time at her two new acquaintances. “I’ll keep an eye out for your bird, and I’ll send it this way if I spot it," she said, and then with a flick of the tail, Riot dashed off into the woods again.
He shifted again on his feet. This was the most akward of all meetings. Perhaps, if he was more awake and hadn't fall down from the tree, he would have done something to keep things lively. Unfortunately, this day of all days weren't so good. As one of the thill mentioned his guitar, his pride rose. "Yes, yes. It's really faithful. Made from good wood and, as it just proved it self, unbreakable." Then the silence befell again. The other thill had dissapeared with parting words and without waiting for a respond. Khuta too, felt the need to dash away like she did. He gave a polite nod to Salme. "Nice meeting you. I'll keep a look out for your bird." And with that, he started slowly walking, for it was his style, away from the scene.
Salme waved to Riot as she made her way. "Thank you" she called after her. Salme hoped that she would keep that promise. Two looking for a bird, even when one most likely doesnÂ’t know what it looks like, is better than one. She nodded to Khuta, making a whispered remark on the craftsmanship of the instrument. He seemed uncomfortable as well as she in silent company, and she was almost glad when he decided to leave. She thanked and waved to him as well. It was a shame that the both of them had to leave so soon though, but she assumed they had more pressing matters. Salme plopped her rear end down on the ground with a half sigh half disappointed grunt. Once more she was a lone 'dragon in the woods, looking for an idiotic bird. She felt like the wolf that wants to cry out to the moon, but alas the moon was not there. Besides, the other two were too close for her to embarrass herself in such a way. Instead she continued to trod through the trees, calling out "Inarik!"
