Open the sky, let us in. [AW]

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

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 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> TIME: 29. Mia. 81382.
WHO: Phet'knis and anyone else who wishes to join.
NOTE: I'm sorry about the choppiness, I'm having a little difficulty with my tenses right now. And Phet'knis is on all fours at the moment, just to clarify.

With the supple mud bordering the small stream's length, it was not hard to track the feydragon in the least for she left in her wake well-pressed prints. These minute prints followed up along the stream's flank until it met with the lake, where after the markings simply appeared to vanish. Evidently, Phet'knis had either chosen another route be it wind-bound or water and any who'd been in her pursuit would've been left guessing.

And that was exactly what she'd desired. Being a skilled trapper, she hardly enjoyed entertaining the idea of being tracked even if the event was less than likely. Call her paranoid but, hey, it certainly gave travelling by foot a little spice. She'd make aimless circles, plod in the tracks of another, and even hover by wing -- all the while baring the self-amused smile of a well-accustomed loner.

That day, at Magi Lake, she'd taken to the wind. Out on the open water the currents were strong and inviting. Plus, it was a little too cool to be getting wet and all. With the sun still new in the sky, the whole morning had been devoted to dips and whirls in the air, to the laughter and delight of skimming the lake's surface and spying fish dancing silver-dances beneath her toes. But when it came afternoon Phet'knis ceased her childish antics, and descended back upon the beach with the warm ache of fatigue in her muscles.

"Mmm, and now, let's get to business." The femme began to trace, once again, the lake's grand perimeter with her eyes afire with intent.
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kutz · Apr 4, 2013

There were another set of tracks just further away, this time larger and had more gaps in between each paw step, leading towards the lake. The owner of the said tracks had come a moment later after the earlier loner had taken flight. The tracks stopped right at the edge of the waters, where a lonesome Lukuo stood.

He then sat, his foot skimmed the water as if testing its temperature. After a few seconds, he left his hind paws half submerged in the water. It felt cold, almost freezing. But he did not mind, did not fully notice. His icy blue eyes gazed at the lake before him. The place was so quiet, so serene. Such a contrast to what he was feeling inside. Why was he here? In Ramath?

It seems like everyday was the same old thing. In the morning the arden would wake, wash up and set off to his classes that seemed to last the whole day. His lunch break would consist of just sitting at the cafeteria and strumming his guitar after a meal, sometimes just practising and sometimes thinking of new songs to compose before the night. When night came, he would shower and then set off to a small club or pub for a gig. Small gigs that pays him enough Bhijan to survive the week. When the night ended and early morning took over, he would return to his dorm, sleep and the cycle would start all over again. He faintly remembered he had promised himself one day, he would be successful. But where was he heading now? He was even running out of inspirations.

A sigh escaped. His green bangs had grown and they covered one his sad eyes. Magi Lake was suddenly too silent. Too quiet, too lonely. Perhaps that was it. He had been too involved with himself that he had hardly any time for a social life. He reached up his hands, pulled the strap of the guitar case that had the name "Khuta Sjyorla" embedded arcoss its body over his shoulder, and set the leather case containing his precious guitar down on the ground. He patted it.

"Well, baby. It looks like it's you and me again," he said. Then, with a descending voice and a descending hope, he added, "Maybe it'll be just you and me forever."

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;">
 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> OOC: Yay, replies. c:

Phet'knis' sharp eyes narrowed as she strolled out from beneath the shade of an over-arching tree. The sunlight danced off the polished stones of the beach and glinted brightly back into her own gaze, causing a bitter-looking squint. But she was hardly close to feeling bitter. In fact, she was most complacent. A day out on the beach... how could anybody find it distasteful?

Feeling over her scenary with her sight once again, she found that for some even the beach was not enough to stir a smile.

The lukuo stood at the water's edge and regarded the seemingly promiseless sight beheld to him. Phet'knis watched him as he turned his face away from the image, giving the feydragon a momentary glimpse of him, and released a sigh. While his sadness was evident, her immediate reaction at the sight of him wasn't pity. Instead, it was delight.

His coat was gorgeous. Her mind was fixated on this fact. However he'd come to acquire such a beautiful coloration was beyond her understanding. Most of her family had coats solid in colour, often dark like the shadows they inhabited. This fellow, on the other hand, was a stark contrast. (If it isn't obvious by now, then it should be understood that Phet'knis hasn't seen many pendragons in her life. Most certainly the ones she's encountered haven't been visual spectacles.)

For a few minutes longer she peered onwards at the stranger, watching him with intent as he laid his guitar case out on the ground and spared it, strangely, a few words. She was not the sort to move in pursuit of another being unless it was for eating's sake and this instance was not different than all the others. However, she was the sort to sit down and watch. And that's quite simply what she did.

Finding a seat on a branch of the onje sjaa tree that had before offered her shade, she gazed at the male while fumbling a smooth stone in her palms. Her body was extended so as her form's shape came into appearance, the otherwise unnoticed curves of her breasts and hips no longer hidden by a thick coat. A canvas bag was slung over her chest, but besides that she was unadorned for the most part. Not that it mattered for amongst the pendragons nudity was no hassle.
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kutz · Mar 7, 2008

Khuta, being the inspiring (though now less so) musician that he was, took out his guitar from its skin and began to strum a few chords. The song was slow, gentle and emitted some form of his saddened soul through it. He was finally releasing his pent up emotions out. The emotions that were collected over time, that had gone dull and void due to familiarity as well as growing time, flowed out with each strum. The song was getting just a little louder. The pool before him reflected its sweet solitude, which Khuta interpreted as its loneliness. After a few moments, he paused, licked his lips and then continued sturmming. He began to sing with the husky, soulful voice of his.

"There are so many ways to hurt inside
To let emotions flow forever like the ocean tide
For the heart to be touched and then broken
The mind can continue to dream until awoken

And once woken the nightmares begin
Reality striking me again and again
I cannot escape, cannot run away
Oh, I need to brake loose from these chains

I-"

He suddenly stopped. Partly because he thought the lyrics did not sound all that great. He would like to start over again. Mainly, though, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. It was this weird feeling he gets everytime there was someone watching him, spying him. It was a rare occurence, but he had a fair share of experience during prison where there were so many different criminals - some even worth trembling about.

The air that was once filled with melodies was once again quiet. It suddenly dawned on Khuta that being here alone and defenseless was not really a good idea. Afterall, Ramath was filled with various predators. Who knew what this strangely serene lake could bring. There was always a calm before a storm.

He turned his head around, alert eyes scanning the area. It was a dense forest and Khuta could just barely make out a figure, dark and easily obscured by the shade of the trees. It, whatever it was, was stationary. It was also smaller than him so Khuta figured it could not do much harm, much less eat him. He squinted for a better focus. Why was it watching him?

The atmosphere was too pregnant with pauses. He needed it to move, speak, anything! He would not even mind if it bounded across, bared fangs and tried to eat the whole mismatched six footer of him. Then he heard a sound. Unfortunately it was just him. "Hello?"

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

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 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> 
Her ears cambered forward as he began to trace, with voice and lip, lyrics from the soul. Or, at least, she believed those words to have come from his soul. And why not? He sung with painstaking sincerity, honesty which could only be achieved by those caught in a moment of selfless solitude. It was enough to make her recoil inside, and wince on the outside. Even in her moments of loneliness she knew she was not as truthful as this stranger. And that hurt.

She might've sworn at the fellow had he been closer.

The singing was curtly cut short, however. It was almost as if he'd heard her curse him from within. Brow arching, she watched as the stranger stared off into the cool, placid lake. Perhaps he was reassessing himself and his lyrics, trying to aim for another mood, or another melody. Thinking this Phet'knis continued on peering without any care at all. But when his stare stilled on her, she opened her maw and moved her tongue as if chewing on some invisible, soundless words. She didn't care for his eyes as much as he might've cared about her's, but his heartfelt singing made a slight feeling of discomfort rise in her. When she realized he had spotted her this discomfort only amplified and coming with it, a spark of envy. Suddenly, she felt slightly ashamed.

If he'd waited a moment longer to breach the silence with his greeting, then she would've taken the gap of time to skitter off like any wild animal would've done. Except he'd commenced something and she was only obliged to continue it. Below her, her tail swung its dark flame with slight impatience. 'Stupid nioti, talks to strangers. Doesn't know it'll get 'isself killed.'

Instead of having replied across the distance as many others might've done, Phet'knis chose to cross the length first before offering any response. With her elbow she nudged the bag to her side and slid off the branch with ease, once more travelling on all fours. The cool shade was left behind her and welcoming her were the sun-baked rocks of the shore. Over these she walked slowly, her movement not straight but carrying on in the shape of an 's'. Occasionally she'd hit the tide and pause to speculate a shiny pebble or a piece of beach glass. Nothing of interest. All these delays gave off the impression that she had much time to waste, that he, the oddly coloured fellow, only held her minimal interest. Surely the stranger would lose interest or feel unimportant, then teeter off. And this is just what she wanted.
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kutz · Mar 7, 2008

Just right after he had made his small, impatient outburst of a greeting, he watched as the dark creature emerged from the comforts of the shade. This time he was able to discern what was it that was studying him. He then realised it was not much of an it rather, it was who. A female one at that. He saw that she possessed a canvas bag and her movements, though not consistent, was graceful. As the sun shone unto her, he noticed the various colours reflecting back from her fur. She really was beautiful - coat wise. It was the stark contrast of her bright wings to her dark coat that seem to gain her more attention. Khuta had seen many Feydragons in his years but none as interesting as her. Probably because the Feydragons back home were much too modern and tend to accessorise themselves excessively. But here was one, as plain as a white canvas yet attractive in a way. He noted too that she was a delicate half of his size.

She also seemed to be more interested in searching for rocks than answering him. He silently watched her slow, graceful movements. He was curious. A moment ago, he was sure, very sure that she was intently watching him from afar. But now, it seems that she was more interested in the ground and its scattered contents. Could it be that she had not heard him? Setting his guitar carefully atop its casing, he decided to try again.

"Have you lost something?" he asked, his two flame-ended tails swishing from left to right in slow harmony. "Would you like some help?"

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;">
 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> No sooner had she came into earshot than did the arden once more reach out his voice. The words were so quizzically kind that she nearly tripped over her own traipsing paws. 'Dunce, he doesn't even get it! Nioti, nioti. Phet'knis paused in midstep and settled down upon her haunches, now sitting two metres away from the stranger. At this distance she could see his handsome coat in detail, and make out the soft features etched into his mismatched face. To her the younger male seemed too innocent for her to snap out at, too dumb for her make a verbal meal of. At least, for now. And so, sighing inwardly, she replied him. "No, boy, I 'aven't lost anything. Much the contrary," and here she gave a gesture to the shoreline, "I'm lookin' for treasha'."

A suggestive look followed to his guitar, her expression curious though without mirth. "And you, you're playing to the canur in the lake?" She jested with a wry smile and the lofted brow. Although she'd been rather pleasant hours before, the odd feelings the lukuo had stirred in her with his music and his eyes had left her feeling cautious, uneasy. His genuinely kind demeanour only made her feel more on edge thus making her speak with a touch of defence, a haughty bit of sarcasm.

But she knew that she might have made upset the arden with her caustic humour and, fearing the worst even before she heard his reply, she recovered with a softer voice. "They tell me you sound nicely, you do."
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kutz · Mar 13, 2008

He watched as she set herself down. Watched as her eyes traced the colours of his coat and contours of his face. He felt slightly at unease, for he knew how odd his coat was like. He remembered he used to wish frequently to be normal looking so he could escape from the stares that others gave. He noticed though, that the stranger before him had another type of look; more of awe than disgusted curiousity.

When she spoke he took notice of her accent. Well, she was definitely not from the city. There was an air of superiority in her voice. Khuta was sensitive towards sound and with sound, he believes, comes aura. He could tell what kind of person is by just listening to the sound of their voice and looking at their expressions. He cannot quite know for certain what her aura was but he knew though that the dark Feydragon was an interesting individual. He knew she meant well and no harm. But she still remains quite an enigma.

"Well I might be. They make good audience. Never leaves." He replied to her jest with a small uncertain smile. Only did she brightened her tone did he give her a grin. "Well, thank you."

There was a pause. For he did not know what to say next. She had caught him singing in one of his dark hours with a brand new composition. A rough, incomplete sketch of a song. He did not know whether to feel ashamed or just relieved that she liked the unrefined composition. Being a performer, his aim was to please audiences. The habit stuck to him even though he was not working anymore.

He shifted to face her, squinted to the place beyond her and then back to meet her gaze. "You are alone? This song's not it's best. It would be a shame if a song like that be heard to many other people."

Out of Character
<table class='ooc'><tr><td>Sorry for the rather late reply. Am going to be busy this whole week. I'll drop by occasionally to continue the thread =)</td></tr></table>

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

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 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> OOC: Don't worry about it! I adore your style, so the wait is worth it. (: Just hope school treats you kindly!

Phet'knis adjusted herself on the warm rocks, a few of which tumbled from beneath her shuffling, uncomfortable frame. While the shores of Magi Lake were gorgeous, flooded by an unmarred view of the scintillating lake, some of the stones on the shore were just a bitch. Some of them enjoyed jutting right into the thill's rump while others preferred to make walking difficult by shuffling out from beneath her paw. All these bothersome rocks! Before she knew it, the thill began to heave hurl some of them behind her till, alas, she felt herself unhindered. She minded her company enough not to hit him but surely the chaotic shower of earth didn't give off the best first impression. But since she was no longer irritated by the uncomfortable seating she treated him to a smile, slender-lipped and glistening of deviousness.

Now she was resting with her legs extended and crossed, elbows resting atop the sharp points of her knees.

"Hah!" Her voice was pitched into the air sharply. "Worry not, fer I travel alone. And it is always that way." Her bemused expression was wry as if she shared with herself a sardonic little joke. She probably did, the quirky thill. Initially she did not read his expression. But she gave his response a bit more thought and then reassessed the dreamy arden's face. What she found there seemed like concern. As if he were worried that the whole world had heard his vocal tampering, as heartfelt as they were.

"And all must hear yoor best, is that it, mmm?" At this moment she decided to pluck a stone from warm ground and fumble it, characteristically, in one palm. Never could the animal rest without something to tease with her touch. It slid in between her digits briefly. Then another discovery was found in between the rocks, one that brightened her face much faster than any light, flame, or star could do. Deft as a weasel, Phet extended her touch into the nook where she'd gotten her original prize... and when she withdrew her paw, there, lying in the centre.. . . . a brown piece of beachglass!
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kutz · Mar 23, 2008

Out of Character
<table class='ooc'><tr><td>Thank you =) I love the way you write as well. Finally able to dig up some spare time.</td></tr></table>

The small pebbles ran pass Khuta and skittered off beyond him. He was not fazed by her way to be comfortable, but he was taken by surprise at the sudden sharp innuendo of her voice. He settled himself on a better position, fully facing her and legs crossed indian style, as he listened to her. He could not help but study the tone of her voice and tried to pin point what range her voice reached. She could very well settle between alto and soprano. He was doing this of course, out of habit. The years in Dragonbach were not completely lost to him.

He looked at her as she finished her first sentence. Always travel alone? He realised then, that there were way more people who felt as lonely as him. Or didn't she feel lonely? In the middle of his thoughts he realised she had asked him a question.

"Well, yes," he started. "If I were an audience, I would want a perfect quality of work? Don't you? I am a little worried though that you wouldn't like it. Sometimes messages can be projected wrongly and I wouldn't..."

He had trailed off halfway his little rant, realising that the femme was no longer paying much attention to what he was saying but rather to a little piece of glass on the earth in front of her. Hardly offended but amused, he questioned her,"Do you like glass? Those shiny little things? I have tons of those at home."

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;">
 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> She had been listening attentively to his words, gentle throated and soft, and had mentally been agreeing with a few of the things he'd been saying. But, alas, a creature with an errant mind, Phet'knis was drawn away by the miniscule piece of beach glass now covetted between her two paws. It glistened and gleamed in the midnoon sun. She, like a magpie, found this quality simply irresistable!

When he spoke again, this time his voice beholding a charming tune of humour to it, the thill lifted her head with a near bashful expression to her face; latter lip nipped in, brows lifted a smidge, and her smile favouring one side, almost apologetically. Again she found herself admiring the grayscale flavour of his coat and the striking contrast between the left and right of his face. "These things I kin find are free, and colourful like tha' woods. They're easy to melt back down an' made into marbles." Marbles she would turn into false eyes; eyes that would stare emptily from their owner's lifeless sockets. A taxidermist at heart, she was constantly thinking about it.

"I neva' find brown, though. Onleh greens and clears, thassall. But how do you have so much, temdaj?" She gave him a name. With this name Khuta might've been able to conceive his permanance with the female; for Phet'knis, names didn't simply exist on a temporary basis. If she'd dubbed someone with a title, even if it wasn't their real name, that meant something...
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kutz · Apr 14, 2008

"Marbles?" he asked, tilting his head in question which made his green bangs cover more of his face. "You mean you make them? For decorations?"

A slight breeze blew its cold breath, touched and lingered its soft fingers on the surface of one's skin. Khuta shivered in response. His feet that was soaked a moment ago now felt like it had been put in a refridgerator and turned to popsicle. He reached for his feet and started to rub both of them vigorously, producing heat of friction. In result with the wind, his green bangs covered his eyes even more. He seriously needed to get them cut.

Khuta blew the infuriating bangs away from his light coloured eyes and smiled at the older one before him, still rubbing his feet but now with less vigor. He very much enjoyed listening to the way she spoke her words and the accent that came with it. When she called him by name in her own words, it suddenly occured to him that he had no knowledge of her name.

"When I was a a younger nioti, my cousins and I would go to the seaside and pick up anything interesting we could find," he said. "I would keep them in a container and hide them in a safe place. When we moved, I would bring the container along. I can't believe we actually thought that these glass things were rare form of Khasis or jewels!" He chuckled at the memory, of how all five of them thought they were the richest little nioti in Ramath.

He stopped rubbing his feet now that they felt better. After a moment of thought, he started digging into a pocket attached to his guitar casing. "Well, since now I'm older and obviously these aren't Khasis and jewels, I guess I could spare you some." His grey paw emerged from the pocket and produced several beach glass of different colours and sizes. But they were all smooth and glimmered under the afternoon sun. "It became a habit that I take at least some of them everywhere."

"These are what you are looking for right, Miss um...?" he pursed his lips, grasping for a name.

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;">
 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> 'knis nodded her small noggin slowly in response to the arden's question. Between her fingers she placed the glass, letting the small morsel roll around under her touch. Though it began cool her body's heat swiftly warmed the beachglass. "Yes, temdaj, I make them fer... fer decorashun." Her demeanor seemed to get sneakier when the fey finally came to a conclusion about the beachglass's purpose; her face gave way to a sinister smirk and her body contorted in a peculiar way.

"I make art, you see, and this will beh a piece of th'eye for one of my statues. With a pinch of Fronima and fire I kin pinch the colours tog'ther and make ma'self a brand new marble." She held up the beachglass in her two fingers to further amplify her point, although she was sure that Khuta needed no sort of convincing. He seemed a little busy, anywho, attempting to keep his feet warm. The afternoon sun offered some consolation, but as they were on an open body of water, there was an ever-present wind whispering over their bodies. It was only unavoidable. In response to the lake's chilly voice Phet'knis opened up her wings and let the spell that bound them loosen; more feathers immediatly began to grow from the arc of her wings, and the flesh itself expanded over a widening frame. While this all happened, the feydragon remained unbothered, nonchalantly arching her ears to the boy's voice.

"To me, they are worth more than Ramath's Khasi. Though, heh, what am I t'say? I make no such riches, ah've little use for money. Get by here an' there with what barterin' I kin do, but quite soon I'm going to open up myself a small booth in the Black Market. 'ave you been there, temdaj?" And she smiled then, however, most faintly.

When the stranger offered her the handful of glittering glass, her eyes widened and shimmered just as brightly as the glass bits he held to her. Her collection was impressive, but it was a pile that she'd accumulated over the years. Now the little feydragon was seeing a whole three day's worth of work offered to her in a single breath. What a peculiar fellow, to be carrying the heavy stuff around with him! But how it had worked to her advantage!

The dark spark on the tip of her tail pulsated a luminous green.

She inched closer to him with both hands extended, taking care not to get too near. Temdaj was still only a stranger, although a named one. She could not, would not, trust him so easily even with his gifts! A few bits of glass trembled from his palm although they never dared meet the ground, for within a second of their fall Phet'knis was beneath them. That got her just a breadth away from his own hands. Much too close! and she sunk back swiftly. "That is them! But why would you give all th'little pieces away so quickleh? 'aven't they got any meaning t'you?" She cocked a brow upwards at him suspicously while below her pursed lips her hands gently handled the colourful prize. "And you can call me Phet'knis, temdaj."
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kutz · May 9, 2008

Khuta nodded in agreement to her comment on making beach glasses for decorations. Indeed, they were beautiful. When the time comes if he were to get his own adobe, those glass pieces back in his dorm would serve as great modern decoration pieces. Khuta was all for art.

"So you sculp statues then?" he enquired. He never knew how to sculp a single thing. His hands were not made to make objects appear perfect but to dance around an instrument and produce sounds instead. However, he do find sculpting an interesting activity. What took his mind off sculpting then, was when Phet'knis's back seem to sprout out two wings. It was really unusual for Khuta. As far as he had travelled, he never once come across someone who could grow and ungrow wings whenever one pleases.

He continued to gape and stare at her until she asked him a question and he remembered his manners. He averted his eyes away from the expanded wings and looked at her face. He was sure she asked him about the Black Market. "That place's fantastic for finding unusual stuffs. It could get a little dangerous, though. If you would like to go there, remember to bring someone along, y'know? Just in case."

When she took the beach glass pieces from him, he found it just a little amusing that she was such a cautious person. What a contrast to the people back in the city where everything and anything just don't matter at all and you can party til you drop.

He brought his two flames closer to his body. As his body rise to a comfortable temperature, he mentally thanked his father for having two tails and Khuta having inherited it. When the thill asked him another question, his ears twitched. A dark cloud of expression covered his face. But it was subtle, unable to trace if one were not a very observant person. "Everything has meaning to me, Phet'knis. It's just a matter of how good a meaning it is." He stared at the beach pieces in her hands, momentarily lost in his thoughts.

"I don't feel any regret parting with them." He said, and he looked away, towards the lake. And all he saw in the lake's surface was the past that continued to taunt him.

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;">
 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> Phet'knis could not help but harbour some merriment at his perplexed expression. She knew very well his focus was hard to strip from her wings, and seeing this, a flurry of deeply-noted chuckles befell the air between them. She was not prone to laughter so quickly, nor at all, but was unable to refrain. Behind her, her feathery appendages jostled with likewise glee.

"Neva' seen a lass that flies before, 'ave you?" she teased, however warmly. Quite the display of pleasure, bountiful and bright! "I apologize. These things, they get in ma' way. I usually hide 'em, just a lil' spell of sorts, temdaj." She let the last of her laughter pittle through the small opening of her mouth then straightened that fox-esque face of hers. "Ah do sculpt, um, in a sense..." Her smile was a faint reminder of just seconds ago, a ghostly apparition to tell of just how capricious this thill really was. She didn't want to further allude to what she did, in fear she might scare the male away.

She enjoyed Khuta's company, soft and gentle.

While she had heard his cautioning voice about the Black Market, she returned no quip. Who would she bring? The idea wasn't something she was going to dare play on. The hobbit of a thill had no friends to journey along with her to market, let alone to speak with. And her family? Well, they'd holed themselves conveniently away from the rest of society. Hardly plausible. So thus her attention was piqued and held by the smoothed shards of glass. She allowed them to swim, tinkling a song as they brushed up against one another, over her palms then gently stored them into her canvas bag.

Just as she began to utter thanks to the generous temdaj, she found him lost to his own voice. His words were most certainly audible but contained a certain privacy that made her feel out of place. It wasn't surprising that that was the case. All this time, she'd been swell with him.

"It's growing cold, temdaj. I think we may be in for a storm."
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kutz · Jun 1, 2008

"Well, I've never seen one sprout wings!" he said in response to her little tease. Again, the curious male allowed his eyes to stare wonderingly at the feathered wings and one which bore an intricate tatoo. Then he found himself feeling envious, for the wings were perfect; unlike his own mismatched ones. A reminder again to him why although he was a great performer, no female would ever want to love him because the way he physically is. That, coupled with his complicated personality.

Heaving out a small sigh, he brought himself back out from his self-pity. His focus was now not on the serene lake but on his new acquaintance whom had turn out to be quite an interesting character. In some way, he felt that perhaps, she was just as lonely as him. He was about to apologize for his sudden detachment when she mentioned about the weather.

True enough, Khuta saw that the sky had gone considerably dark and there were flashing signs now and then flickering in the dark sky overhead.

"I suppose you're right," he said, getting up slowly and packing his precious guitar in its leather casing. After a slight pause in his actions, he then turned to the female, still seated at her spot. "You wouldn't happen know of a place to shelter in while the storm passes, would you?"

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;">
 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> Sure enough, the pregnant atmosphere gave way to the looming clouds and rain, sparse however cold in the last winter month. The thill drew her wings up neatly overhead of herself as a makeshift umbrella. Beads of liquid glass hit her feathers then dribbled down to hit both body and ground. She just barely stifled a shiver. The swamplands were always much warmer.

"Hmn," her brow tensed with thought, "Mah house is quite a ways away, off in th' swamplands. I dun often come here eithah, so I can't say I know the land that swell." She didn't like her answer and, so, quirked her lips in displeasure. "Forest?"

She didn't wait for a response and began toeing in the direction of the tree's cover, assuming that temdaj would follow suit. One lobe kept itself pricked in his direction, however, always checking for a voice... perhaps he knew a place they could rest? Warmth, shelter, and thunderstorms were a trio that went along nicely.
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kutz · Jun 5, 2008

The rain drops were like bullets from the sky. There was the sound of rumbling thunder and then a clash as a spilt of light lit up the sky. Khuta felt fortunate that he had zipped his precious baby in its case before any of the drops hit her. The older thill he now know as Phet'knis was already on her way towards the dense forest. With ears pinned back agaisnt his cranium (for he did not really much like the sound of thunder), he followed suit on all fours with his guitar flung around and now resting on his back, wings spread out with an occasional flap for a lighter run and his two tails whipping for balance.

He wished he had travelled often. Then he would know where in the forest might have the best shelter. But alas, he didn't. When they reached the forest, the rain dropped less so. The trees were not the best place to hide in a storm, but it was better than nothing. Slowing down and still padding ahead, Khuta kept a look out for any cave that may be of use. He was already soaked from head to toe and he certainly did not want to catch pneoneumia when he had a gig by tomorrow.

He stopped and set his guitar on the ground. He then shook himself off the excess droplets much like an earthen dog would. When he was done, though he couldn't see it himself, he was sure much of his fur stuck out at odd angles. Facing Phet'knis, he said, "I think it's best we go scouting for a cave. Storm's heavy today and I don't really want to stay under trees when there's thunder and lightning."

At the cue, there was again a loud roar and clash through the skies. Khuta winced only slightly at the sound while his heart gave out a faster beat. However, he found his composure again and put up a brave front. No one is going to see that Khuta was afraid of a simple thunder.

phylus · Apr 4, 2013

<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;">
 p h e t ' k n i s . m o i
</td></tr> <tr><td> The electricity in the air made all hairs stand on end, the storm was that fast approaching. The sky's voice boomed and crackled ominously, and soon enough they'd see the chalk-white flickers of quicksilver lightning illuminating the woods. The day had begun so blue and so clear... what happened? The world was simply uncaring to anybody's plans.

Whereas Phet might've moved with deliberation and speed in her swamplands, the forest here was new and its paths were unknown. She hardly ever dared visit places outside her own home -- it was not in her family's way to stray so deeply, so it was not her desire either to do so. Her steps were full of uncertainty; she paused and waited til Khuta had caught up to her, springing on all fours.

"A cave, eh?" She'd recalled the landscape's rolls and curves during her day's trek and tried, for the life of her, to remember if the land sloped up going west or going east... "Ah think our chances a' findin' one might be betteh if we head this way. I'm not real shore, but sooner er later we'll hit a rock face." With that she gave a curt, yet decisive nod, before making eye with the singer. His face, cut so neatly by the workings of his genes, held such a fierceness that whatever qualms she held about the storm was swiftly smoothed. Her features relented to a soft smile.

The earth then trembled, like a frightened child, with a fresh chorus of thunder.
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Open the sky, let us in. [AW]

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