above [numair v faerie dragon, day 2]
Jun 26, 2023 15:32:59 GMT -5
Post by arx!! on Jun 26, 2023 15:32:59 GMT -5
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NUMAIR
[attr="class","numairLines1"]
He spent the night among the stars, knotted down with vines of thorn to a beast of soft, golden feathers and furs. It was comforting, like a hug of slivers and gentle hypothermia with the thin air meant for anything, but- well, me. And THEE Most Royal of Highness The Beast—a Gyrphon according to sources that didn't poison him, for one. And this fancy book he found in the woods tucked behind a birdhouse.
So he felt pretty confident in the description: "Hey, look," he points empathically, holding up the book for the creature to see. "This must be you." Almost a spitting image of the same muttation shimmered in a sort of gold, iridescent ink. "Says here you, 'possess the ability to lie about when you're exhausted from flying all day and night?' Seems accurate to me, I mean-"
Numair gasps and laughs as his ride jolts him with a fiendish glimmer in the eye; the thorns don't hurt one bit. But it had been hours of hovering in the skies, watching as day turned to night and frigid temperatures plummeted with the sun over the horizon.
"You know," he says, angling himself until he has to wince against the thorns; he can feel The Beast straining to keep steady as Numair's fears forces the rope to tighten around the both of them. But there is only a steady wingbeat, steady heart, steadiness.
"I- just need to thank you. For coming back for me. You didn't have to do that," Numair speaks; The Beast jolts and both of them wince in tandem. But the gryphon seems happy, despite exhaustion, the bitter cold, the destruction of the only place it has even known to be home.
"-but you did."
Numair rests his cheek against his new friend's feathers, vision blurring and eyelids growing heavy as the smell of strawberry shortcake and goldenrod tickled his nose.
"Thank you."
And then he wakes abruptly as wingbeats grow louder, stronger. His ears begin to pop and his lungs suddenly forget how to breathe and The Beast screeches, nipping at tiny creatures clinging to its chest and dancing around the items Numair had tied down.
"HEY!" he swats and squashes at the things as he struggles to grab his whip back from them.
"WHAT DO WE DO?" he shouts at THEE Royal Highness over the wind as he tries to keep himself focused on the creatures full of teeth and scales instead of the rough angles and dives he was about to have to endure as his ride plummeted and swirled through the air.
So he felt pretty confident in the description: "Hey, look," he points empathically, holding up the book for the creature to see. "This must be you." Almost a spitting image of the same muttation shimmered in a sort of gold, iridescent ink. "Says here you, 'possess the ability to lie about when you're exhausted from flying all day and night?' Seems accurate to me, I mean-"
Numair gasps and laughs as his ride jolts him with a fiendish glimmer in the eye; the thorns don't hurt one bit. But it had been hours of hovering in the skies, watching as day turned to night and frigid temperatures plummeted with the sun over the horizon.
"You know," he says, angling himself until he has to wince against the thorns; he can feel The Beast straining to keep steady as Numair's fears forces the rope to tighten around the both of them. But there is only a steady wingbeat, steady heart, steadiness.
"I- just need to thank you. For coming back for me. You didn't have to do that," Numair speaks; The Beast jolts and both of them wince in tandem. But the gryphon seems happy, despite exhaustion, the bitter cold, the destruction of the only place it has even known to be home.
"-but you did."
Numair rests his cheek against his new friend's feathers, vision blurring and eyelids growing heavy as the smell of strawberry shortcake and goldenrod tickled his nose.
"Thank you."
And then he wakes abruptly as wingbeats grow louder, stronger. His ears begin to pop and his lungs suddenly forget how to breathe and The Beast screeches, nipping at tiny creatures clinging to its chest and dancing around the items Numair had tied down.
"HEY!" he swats and squashes at the things as he struggles to grab his whip back from them.
"WHAT DO WE DO?" he shouts at THEE Royal Highness over the wind as he tries to keep himself focused on the creatures full of teeth and scales instead of the rough angles and dives he was about to have to endure as his ride plummeted and swirled through the air.
[numair attacks a few little faerie dragons with his thorn whip]
mZiTgnlE_|whip
[2.5 damage]
whipmZiTgnlE_|whip
[2.5 damage]
