@MasqD
Yes please! I also forgot to mention that I did. So my bad, too, haha!
Yes please! I also forgot to mention that I did. So my bad, too, haha!
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spring. she/her. +3 FRT windestiny - a nuz/pinkerlocke |
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Creative Corner
Share your own art and stories, or ask for critique.
TOPIC | The Darkest Memories [Nuzlocke]
@MasqD
Yes please! I also forgot to mention that I did. So my bad, too, haha!
Yes please! I also forgot to mention that I did. So my bad, too, haha!
There is another ice storm starting tomorrow; I'm worried about downed power lines.
I may post early or late. I haven't decided what I want to do yet.
But if I wake up and the powers out. :<
decisions decisions...
I may post early or late. I haven't decided what I want to do yet.
But if I wake up and the powers out. :<
decisions decisions...
There is another ice storm starting tomorrow; I'm worried about downed power lines.
I may post early or late. I haven't decided what I want to do yet.
But if I wake up and the powers out. :<
decisions decisions...
I may post early or late. I haven't decided what I want to do yet.
But if I wake up and the powers out. :<
decisions decisions...
[right][B]ENTRY 3 [/B]
[COLOR=#DDDDDD]15 - 01 - 17[/COLOR]
[/RIGHT]
[center][size=5][color=#75008f]Dreamless[/color][/size][/center]
[center][size=1] @ArgenteaMoon @Adriel @AerinCantator @springwind[/size][/center]
[img]http://orig10.deviantart.net/8ffb/f/2017/064/4/c/japanese_autumn_by_mikeshawphotography_d338bu2_by_masq_d-db1c70d.jpg[/img]
The forest held many different sounds some that Petite had never heard, from the faintest sounds of scatting to the loudest bellows and screeches. Which often pulled her out of whatever dreamless state she had faded into. The night was very unrestful, in fact, sleeping did the opposite to her exhaustion as it should have. Petite felt more tired and uneasy. Wearily she rolled over from her side to a more upright position. There was a warmth coming from her side that had been facing upward while asleep that confused her. The bloom of the trees was cool to the touch and sodden with the morning dew, it wouldn't have made any warmth, in fact, other than her leftmost side Petite felt cold. Like something was pressed against her, Petite attempted to look but there was nothing there, everything was blurry, she tried to blink away the sleep. Something glowingly purple was right next to her, blinking harder, for whatever reason the floating shape didn't move, but the was no threatening feeling accompanying the existence of the object either, she felt happy.
Clearing the last fogs of her sleepiness and yawning, looking again she realised it was the egg that had been stowed in her jacket. It must have bobbed its way out of her jacket during her tossing and turning last night. Only now its surface was different glowing almost and covered in hundreds of stars; like the sky above last eve. Seven days seemed too short a time for the egg to be ready to hatch, but up until now it had never been warm like this, nor had it glowed like Leslie told her it would. Petite pulled the floating egg in front of her it moved with little effort still light as a feather. On closer inspection of the egg, she could see a small crack forming on its surface, touching it ever so lightly with the meaty part of her clawed hand. The crack was deeper than it looked, but that was how eggs worked, they cracked, the shell came off, and a baby came out. Petite stared at the egg and tilted her head waiting for something to happen.
For hours she laid still staring at the egg, she began to feel a pang of hunger; it had been almost four days since she last ate. Of course, dragons could go a little over two weeks without the need of food or fear of starvation. But it was still uncomfortable skipping meals, not eating made dragons weaker. That fact was probably true of all creatures. Up until now, she had made a point to eat every single day, but it hadn't crossed her mind on the way here. She looked at the egg, it still hadn't moved, well changed rather, it had swayed in the breeze a few times lowered and lifted back up, like a normal arcane egg floating and free.
Maybe she was supposed to help the egg, or maybe it wasn't quite ready to open. It had been seven or eight days since she found it already. Half the time what was days felt like weeks and mere minutes were hours. Like time had slowed itself, most of the families she had seen in Anonymity eggs hatched within five, they would always parade their young around afterwards excited and happy. She pulled the egg closer and examined the crack again, unlike the rest of the glittering egg it was dull shaded.
A vision played across her eyes of all the rotted decrepit nest she had found while scavenging she had avoided them when they were obviously marked. But there were a few times when the first thing the group discovered were the grey, lifeless cracked eggs, with no bodies in them ashen grey dust of what used to be. Those were the worst nests to find. She realised at that moment what she hadn't thought about all this time.
She found the egg seven days ago, who knows how long before that, that the egg came into existence. She touched the warmed surface with her claws, first softly then with more pressure, the egg glowed more intensely and swelled before more cracks steamed from the grey crevice. It began to fissure and fall away into small pieces, then larger and larger chunks broke away, until all that was left was an illuminated bright pink orb that lowered to the ground.
Of all the things Petite had seen in her time on Sornieth, this had never been one of them. As the star of light touched the ground it dimmed and she could see something grey and fluffy. Yes, a little ball of fluff and fur. Petite stifled her laughter; dragons weren't furry, but this dragon child was. The hatchling uncurled its body and looked over at Petite with wide glittery pink eyes. It squeaked at Petite. She gasped and let out the laugh she had been holding back; the dragon was so small and cute.
[columns]She pushed her nose at the baby, inspecting it every inch of a body that should be covered in scaled was furry in grey and brown on what Petite hoped were wings. The hatchling rolled over, and Petite saw that it was most definitely a female. She smiled again at the hatchling as it squeaked louder at her. This small furball must be the species known as tundra, a dragon of the Icewarden. Petite had never come in contact with the breed and knew little about it, even in all her studying.
There had been a hushed rumour that the Patriarch of Anonymity had once been a tundra, but in one the early nights of the clan, the Matriarch stole into his dwelling and changed him into a guardian with black magic. But that was just a dragon tale for younglings. Changing a dragon's most core existence was impossible.[nextcol][color=transparent]~[/color][nextcol][url=https://orig07.deviantart.net/270c/f/2015/015/d/1/yui_hatch_by_masq_d-d8dzmgr.png][img]http://orig10.deviantart.net/bb87/f/2017/015/d/8/yui_hatch_sm_by_masq_d-davjtex.png[/img][/url][/columns]
ENTRY 3
15 - 01 - 17
15 - 01 - 17
Dreamless
The forest held many different sounds some that Petite had never heard, from the faintest sounds of scatting to the loudest bellows and screeches. Which often pulled her out of whatever dreamless state she had faded into. The night was very unrestful, in fact, sleeping did the opposite to her exhaustion as it should have. Petite felt more tired and uneasy. Wearily she rolled over from her side to a more upright position. There was a warmth coming from her side that had been facing upward while asleep that confused her. The bloom of the trees was cool to the touch and sodden with the morning dew, it wouldn't have made any warmth, in fact, other than her leftmost side Petite felt cold. Like something was pressed against her, Petite attempted to look but there was nothing there, everything was blurry, she tried to blink away the sleep. Something glowingly purple was right next to her, blinking harder, for whatever reason the floating shape didn't move, but the was no threatening feeling accompanying the existence of the object either, she felt happy.
Clearing the last fogs of her sleepiness and yawning, looking again she realised it was the egg that had been stowed in her jacket. It must have bobbed its way out of her jacket during her tossing and turning last night. Only now its surface was different glowing almost and covered in hundreds of stars; like the sky above last eve. Seven days seemed too short a time for the egg to be ready to hatch, but up until now it had never been warm like this, nor had it glowed like Leslie told her it would. Petite pulled the floating egg in front of her it moved with little effort still light as a feather. On closer inspection of the egg, she could see a small crack forming on its surface, touching it ever so lightly with the meaty part of her clawed hand. The crack was deeper than it looked, but that was how eggs worked, they cracked, the shell came off, and a baby came out. Petite stared at the egg and tilted her head waiting for something to happen.
For hours she laid still staring at the egg, she began to feel a pang of hunger; it had been almost four days since she last ate. Of course, dragons could go a little over two weeks without the need of food or fear of starvation. But it was still uncomfortable skipping meals, not eating made dragons weaker. That fact was probably true of all creatures. Up until now, she had made a point to eat every single day, but it hadn't crossed her mind on the way here. She looked at the egg, it still hadn't moved, well changed rather, it had swayed in the breeze a few times lowered and lifted back up, like a normal arcane egg floating and free.
Maybe she was supposed to help the egg, or maybe it wasn't quite ready to open. It had been seven or eight days since she found it already. Half the time what was days felt like weeks and mere minutes were hours. Like time had slowed itself, most of the families she had seen in Anonymity eggs hatched within five, they would always parade their young around afterwards excited and happy. She pulled the egg closer and examined the crack again, unlike the rest of the glittering egg it was dull shaded.
A vision played across her eyes of all the rotted decrepit nest she had found while scavenging she had avoided them when they were obviously marked. But there were a few times when the first thing the group discovered were the grey, lifeless cracked eggs, with no bodies in them ashen grey dust of what used to be. Those were the worst nests to find. She realised at that moment what she hadn't thought about all this time.
She found the egg seven days ago, who knows how long before that, that the egg came into existence. She touched the warmed surface with her claws, first softly then with more pressure, the egg glowed more intensely and swelled before more cracks steamed from the grey crevice. It began to fissure and fall away into small pieces, then larger and larger chunks broke away, until all that was left was an illuminated bright pink orb that lowered to the ground.
Of all the things Petite had seen in her time on Sornieth, this had never been one of them. As the star of light touched the ground it dimmed and she could see something grey and fluffy. Yes, a little ball of fluff and fur. Petite stifled her laughter; dragons weren't furry, but this dragon child was. The hatchling uncurled its body and looked over at Petite with wide glittery pink eyes. It squeaked at Petite. She gasped and let out the laugh she had been holding back; the dragon was so small and cute.
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She pushed her nose at the baby, inspecting it every inch of a body that should be covered in scaled was furry in grey and brown on what Petite hoped were wings. The hatchling rolled over, and Petite saw that it was most definitely a female. She smiled again at the hatchling as it squeaked louder at her. This small furball must be the species known as tundra, a dragon of the Icewarden. Petite had never come in contact with the breed and knew little about it, even in all her studying. There had been a hushed rumour that the Patriarch of Anonymity had once been a tundra, but in one the early nights of the clan, the Matriarch stole into his dwelling and changed him into a guardian with black magic. But that was just a dragon tale for younglings. Changing a dragon's most core existence was impossible. | ~ |
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#thestruggle trying to figure out how many words is too much. D:
I'm trying to separate entries by 1000-1500, so it doesn't get too redundant.
Because I'm like ten entries ahead of the posts, but every time I fix one that is way too short; it always ends up min 2k+ words and then I have to break it up again. ;w;
morale of the story; this entry is kinda short; some bigger entries are coming.
I'm trying to separate entries by 1000-1500, so it doesn't get too redundant.
Because I'm like ten entries ahead of the posts, but every time I fix one that is way too short; it always ends up min 2k+ words and then I have to break it up again. ;w;
#thestruggle trying to figure out how many words is too much. D:
I'm trying to separate entries by 1000-1500, so it doesn't get too redundant.
Because I'm like ten entries ahead of the posts, but every time I fix one that is way too short; it always ends up min 2k+ words and then I have to break it up again. ;w;
morale of the story; this entry is kinda short; some bigger entries are coming.
I'm trying to separate entries by 1000-1500, so it doesn't get too redundant.
Because I'm like ten entries ahead of the posts, but every time I fix one that is way too short; it always ends up min 2k+ words and then I have to break it up again. ;w;
@MasqD A SMOL (I love baby tundras :33333)
1000-1500 words is what I aim for. Or rather, 1000 is ideal, 1500 is the maximum limit. I have an enormously short attention span (as I always feel the need to tell people) and actually find it difficult to write so much. My minimum length is 500-600 words and even that can be hard to reach at times. (permanent writer's block is fuuuuun)
also "male patriarch" is redundant, and the female form is "matriarch" :3
1000-1500 words is what I aim for. Or rather, 1000 is ideal, 1500 is the maximum limit. I have an enormously short attention span (as I always feel the need to tell people) and actually find it difficult to write so much. My minimum length is 500-600 words and even that can be hard to reach at times. (permanent writer's block is fuuuuun)
also "male patriarch" is redundant, and the female form is "matriarch" :3
@MasqD A SMOL (I love baby tundras :33333)
1000-1500 words is what I aim for. Or rather, 1000 is ideal, 1500 is the maximum limit. I have an enormously short attention span (as I always feel the need to tell people) and actually find it difficult to write so much. My minimum length is 500-600 words and even that can be hard to reach at times. (permanent writer's block is fuuuuun)
also "male patriarch" is redundant, and the female form is "matriarch" :3
1000-1500 words is what I aim for. Or rather, 1000 is ideal, 1500 is the maximum limit. I have an enormously short attention span (as I always feel the need to tell people) and actually find it difficult to write so much. My minimum length is 500-600 words and even that can be hard to reach at times. (permanent writer's block is fuuuuun)
also "male patriarch" is redundant, and the female form is "matriarch" :3
Professional Grump
I live for memes
I live for memes
@argenteamoon
Yeah, I figured I could just use their names but since they technically haven't been introduced in the storyline. I wasn't sure. I didn't want to say Apocalypse the female matriarch; which is like triple redundancy.
I'll work on it tho, see if I can find a happ medium.
~for the most part, I'm still in the parts of the story I have already written, in the first run. But my major goal with the rewrite was to give my characters more personality; show rather than tell. Because my original run was: "petite worried to much, a 17 part novella."
I'm starting to worry that I'll have a full book by the end of just chapter 1.
Speaking of I forgot to update my chapter list. Good job masqd q.u.ality."
Yeah, I figured I could just use their names but since they technically haven't been introduced in the storyline. I wasn't sure. I didn't want to say Apocalypse the female matriarch; which is like triple redundancy.
I'll work on it tho, see if I can find a happ medium.
~for the most part, I'm still in the parts of the story I have already written, in the first run. But my major goal with the rewrite was to give my characters more personality; show rather than tell. Because my original run was: "petite worried to much, a 17 part novella."
I'm starting to worry that I'll have a full book by the end of just chapter 1.
Speaking of I forgot to update my chapter list. Good job masqd q.u.ality."
@argenteamoon
Yeah, I figured I could just use their names but since they technically haven't been introduced in the storyline. I wasn't sure. I didn't want to say Apocalypse the female matriarch; which is like triple redundancy.
I'll work on it tho, see if I can find a happ medium.
~for the most part, I'm still in the parts of the story I have already written, in the first run. But my major goal with the rewrite was to give my characters more personality; show rather than tell. Because my original run was: "petite worried to much, a 17 part novella."
I'm starting to worry that I'll have a full book by the end of just chapter 1.
Speaking of I forgot to update my chapter list. Good job masqd q.u.ality."
Yeah, I figured I could just use their names but since they technically haven't been introduced in the storyline. I wasn't sure. I didn't want to say Apocalypse the female matriarch; which is like triple redundancy.
I'll work on it tho, see if I can find a happ medium.
~for the most part, I'm still in the parts of the story I have already written, in the first run. But my major goal with the rewrite was to give my characters more personality; show rather than tell. Because my original run was: "petite worried to much, a 17 part novella."
I'm starting to worry that I'll have a full book by the end of just chapter 1.
Speaking of I forgot to update my chapter list. Good job masqd q.u.ality."
@MasqD ... just say matriarch and patriarch?
Well good job trying to give your characters more personality. :3
Well good job trying to give your characters more personality. :3
@MasqD ... just say matriarch and patriarch?
Well good job trying to give your characters more personality. :3
Well good job trying to give your characters more personality. :3
Professional Grump
I live for memes
I live for memes
ENTRY 4
22 - 01 - 17
22 - 01 - 17
What Matters Most
So here is the next chapter; I have a birthday dinner tonight; so it doesn't have all the pretty coding. Like I regularly planned on. It will have it tomorrow. But tonight it's not entirely possible. But I am committed to my weekly updates on Sundays. :D
With Love, Masq'D
Petite rested her head on her scaly hands watching the hatchling as she began to look around at the new world around her. Petite dug at the ground absentmindedly as she tried to think of names for the hatchling, she played with combinations of her name mixed with Leslie. Pana, Litea, Peala… No matter what she tried, none of the combinations blended or made sense for that matter. She didn’t like them, none of them suited what you would probably call a small fluff ball. In fact, she didn't even know the first thing about the hatchling.
Whenever new dragons ask her name, he always had to hold back a grimace. Petite. When she was born she was small, so Petite seemed like the obvious name choice, but as the time went on, she became larger and larger; bigger than most of the other dragons in her first clan as well as in Anonymity. Very not small, she had been teased on more than the only occasion, about that. The most common one was finding a small crawl space and saying she was the only one who could fit. “Seeing as how she was so Petite.”
She gave a quiet sigh, why did it matter stupid childhood jokes, she would never see those dragons again. It was decided, better to wait to learn about the hatchling before choosing a name for the child. It only made sense, rather than force a strange name on a dragon she knew nothing about, for now, hatchling would suffice, she heard her stomach give another growl of protest. The hatchling looked around terrified by the noise; Petite tried to sooth the baby; she needed to find food for herself, were hatchlings hungry when they hatched, how much did they eat. Of all the many things Petite spent her days in Anonymity, reading about babies hadn't been one of them. A subject she desperately wished she'd studied more on.
She knew the hatchling couldn't walk properly yet; that much was evident. She nosed and nudged the hatchling if only she could convince her to grab onto her mane of hair then she'd be able to fetch some food for them both. Try as she might the hatchling just rolled over and squeaked at her. On one particular nudge the hatchling turned over onto a small but sharp rock not enough to injure her, but enough sting to make her cry. The wailing that came out of the hatchling was loud and obnoxious. Petite moved to cover the baby's mouth with her clawed hand; struggling to quiet the child down, they’d be in real trouble if anyone heard that racket. The hatchling only calmed down after Petite laid her head lightly over top her and made soothing shush noises, Petite noticed that the skin around the hatchlings neck was rather loose compared to other areas of her fluffy body.
Whenever she was hunting in the boreal woods, she had seen on many occasions mothers pick up their wolf cubs up by the neck. Petite wondered if the same was true for furry dragons. She tried to pick the hatchling up with the softest grip of her mouth. As Petite did so, the hatchlings went limp like in her mouth just like picking up a doll instead of a living breathing creature. Petite hadn’t lifted her far off the ground that had only been a test, as she set her back down. Petite stood up and stretched her wings, looking to see where they met up, and if there was enough room for her to sit. Sighing she picked the hatchling up and set her between her shoulder blades; she would have to walk, so she didn't smack the hatchling around flying. The Hatchling landed with a soft plop and a squeak of excitement. She buried her head in Petite's mane and gripped onto the hair of her nape. Petite grew excited about her new found knowledge.
They made their way deeper into the forest Petite eyed natural ground prey trying to imagine which would be easiest for the hatchling to eat. Petite had a preference to seafood, but fresh meat was a close second. Duskmouse, small but usually healthy with lots of meat. Slaying these were easy even with a baby on her back. She placed torn shreds of meat on her back near the hatchling and scarfed down her portion. She felt the hatchling moving backwards toward her tail, the hatchling slid down her back and landed on the ground Petite swung around looking at the hatchling and began checking her over for injury. The hatchling gave her only a sweet smile; she looked amused about her little stunt. Petite picked the hatchling up and set her back on her back and began to eat again. Just like before the hatchling slid down her back and landed on the ground with a squeak of excitement.
After five more tries, Petite gave up and moved the food in front of the hatchling, nudging it at her to eat. The hatchling ran away from the food and curled up beside Petite's tail. Petite was taken aback, she had wasted time to kill the mouse, and the hatchling didn't even want it… she couldn't save the meat without proper coffers, so she gulped it down and went to pick up the hatchling for the trip. It would be a very long trip if the hatchling kept using her tail as a slide. When she placed her on her back, the hatchling squirmed a little, but once Petite started moving the hatchling dug down into her mane just like before and went to sleep.
Walking in silence through the forest was calming, unlike her trip here. Focusing on the hatchlings soft breathing and the sounds of the strand without fear of pursuit, made the hurricane of thoughts the Petite experienced over the last few days, numbing almost. Less of a sharp knife and more of a dull ache. She was not sure of really where she was headed, her only focus this last week had been getting here. But now that she was, she didn't have a plan. Leslie was the type to make plans, heck her plans had plans everything was so calculated with her. Even as creative and chaotic as her personality was, she was always in control of everything. Petite rathered being pushed by the tides and the wind, less by schedules.
Leslie would have loved to meet the baby fluffball that adorned Petites back. Tears began to well up in her eyes, Leslie was no fool; it wouldn't take long for her to alert the rest of the clan of Petite's treachery. Just because they found the egg didn't mean it was hers to keep. Petite blinked as water dropped onto her face, erasing the tears she had shed. Looking upwards she saw the great skystar being masked by low grey clouds; it wouldn't be long before a downpour started, She looked around for any shelter. No matter who was right and what was wrong, Petite was certain of one thing. No matter what happened, she would always protect her baby.
ENTRY 4
22 - 01 - 17
22 - 01 - 17
What Matters Most
So here is the next chapter; I have a birthday dinner tonight; so it doesn't have all the pretty coding. Like I regularly planned on. It will have it tomorrow. But tonight it's not entirely possible. But I am committed to my weekly updates on Sundays. :D
With Love, Masq'D
Petite rested her head on her scaly hands watching the hatchling as she began to look around at the new world around her. Petite dug at the ground absentmindedly as she tried to think of names for the hatchling, she played with combinations of her name mixed with Leslie. Pana, Litea, Peala… No matter what she tried, none of the combinations blended or made sense for that matter. She didn’t like them, none of them suited what you would probably call a small fluff ball. In fact, she didn't even know the first thing about the hatchling.
Whenever new dragons ask her name, he always had to hold back a grimace. Petite. When she was born she was small, so Petite seemed like the obvious name choice, but as the time went on, she became larger and larger; bigger than most of the other dragons in her first clan as well as in Anonymity. Very not small, she had been teased on more than the only occasion, about that. The most common one was finding a small crawl space and saying she was the only one who could fit. “Seeing as how she was so Petite.”
She gave a quiet sigh, why did it matter stupid childhood jokes, she would never see those dragons again. It was decided, better to wait to learn about the hatchling before choosing a name for the child. It only made sense, rather than force a strange name on a dragon she knew nothing about, for now, hatchling would suffice, she heard her stomach give another growl of protest. The hatchling looked around terrified by the noise; Petite tried to sooth the baby; she needed to find food for herself, were hatchlings hungry when they hatched, how much did they eat. Of all the many things Petite spent her days in Anonymity, reading about babies hadn't been one of them. A subject she desperately wished she'd studied more on.
She knew the hatchling couldn't walk properly yet; that much was evident. She nosed and nudged the hatchling if only she could convince her to grab onto her mane of hair then she'd be able to fetch some food for them both. Try as she might the hatchling just rolled over and squeaked at her. On one particular nudge the hatchling turned over onto a small but sharp rock not enough to injure her, but enough sting to make her cry. The wailing that came out of the hatchling was loud and obnoxious. Petite moved to cover the baby's mouth with her clawed hand; struggling to quiet the child down, they’d be in real trouble if anyone heard that racket. The hatchling only calmed down after Petite laid her head lightly over top her and made soothing shush noises, Petite noticed that the skin around the hatchlings neck was rather loose compared to other areas of her fluffy body.
Whenever she was hunting in the boreal woods, she had seen on many occasions mothers pick up their wolf cubs up by the neck. Petite wondered if the same was true for furry dragons. She tried to pick the hatchling up with the softest grip of her mouth. As Petite did so, the hatchlings went limp like in her mouth just like picking up a doll instead of a living breathing creature. Petite hadn’t lifted her far off the ground that had only been a test, as she set her back down. Petite stood up and stretched her wings, looking to see where they met up, and if there was enough room for her to sit. Sighing she picked the hatchling up and set her between her shoulder blades; she would have to walk, so she didn't smack the hatchling around flying. The Hatchling landed with a soft plop and a squeak of excitement. She buried her head in Petite's mane and gripped onto the hair of her nape. Petite grew excited about her new found knowledge.
They made their way deeper into the forest Petite eyed natural ground prey trying to imagine which would be easiest for the hatchling to eat. Petite had a preference to seafood, but fresh meat was a close second. Duskmouse, small but usually healthy with lots of meat. Slaying these were easy even with a baby on her back. She placed torn shreds of meat on her back near the hatchling and scarfed down her portion. She felt the hatchling moving backwards toward her tail, the hatchling slid down her back and landed on the ground Petite swung around looking at the hatchling and began checking her over for injury. The hatchling gave her only a sweet smile; she looked amused about her little stunt. Petite picked the hatchling up and set her back on her back and began to eat again. Just like before the hatchling slid down her back and landed on the ground with a squeak of excitement.
After five more tries, Petite gave up and moved the food in front of the hatchling, nudging it at her to eat. The hatchling ran away from the food and curled up beside Petite's tail. Petite was taken aback, she had wasted time to kill the mouse, and the hatchling didn't even want it… she couldn't save the meat without proper coffers, so she gulped it down and went to pick up the hatchling for the trip. It would be a very long trip if the hatchling kept using her tail as a slide. When she placed her on her back, the hatchling squirmed a little, but once Petite started moving the hatchling dug down into her mane just like before and went to sleep.
Walking in silence through the forest was calming, unlike her trip here. Focusing on the hatchlings soft breathing and the sounds of the strand without fear of pursuit, made the hurricane of thoughts the Petite experienced over the last few days, numbing almost. Less of a sharp knife and more of a dull ache. She was not sure of really where she was headed, her only focus this last week had been getting here. But now that she was, she didn't have a plan. Leslie was the type to make plans, heck her plans had plans everything was so calculated with her. Even as creative and chaotic as her personality was, she was always in control of everything. Petite rathered being pushed by the tides and the wind, less by schedules.
Leslie would have loved to meet the baby fluffball that adorned Petites back. Tears began to well up in her eyes, Leslie was no fool; it wouldn't take long for her to alert the rest of the clan of Petite's treachery. Just because they found the egg didn't mean it was hers to keep. Petite blinked as water dropped onto her face, erasing the tears she had shed. Looking upwards she saw the great skystar being masked by low grey clouds; it wouldn't be long before a downpour started, She looked around for any shelter. No matter who was right and what was wrong, Petite was certain of one thing. No matter what happened, she would always protect her baby.