[center][b][size=4]Chapter 3[/size=4]
[u]A Gift[/b][/u][/center]
[u][b]Draco[/b][/u][i][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=8077437][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/80775/8077437.png?mtime=VHvo-gAARPs.png[/img][/url]
I wake to the hum of Taz's voice. It seems he had finally found his tongue, but couldn't make any more noises than one pitch. Sleepily, I turn myself to him. He was sitting on the edge of the nest, humming the one note. I try to get him to say more notes, and fail. Whether he can't or if he won't, I don't think I'll be able to teach him the coatl language. It was later in the morning than I expected.
He seems persistent. Though his pitch doesn't change, he makes glances toward the exit of the lair, and flutters his tiny wings. He hasn't learned to fly yet, but he's figured out to flap his wings enough to become airborne for a short period of time.
"Do you have something to show me?" I ask him. He nods, and awkwardly flutters to the entrance of my room. I follow him, and he leads me out of the lair. I wonder how much he was exploring this morning if he already found his way out... Taz excitedly flutters onto a box nestled at the foot of a dying tree.
The box is unremarkable, and rather lopsided, as if some creature had nearly crushed it underfoot before guiltily startling up and attempting to reshape it into its old structural integrity. Taz flutters off the box, and flutters behind the tree. Then, a soft, eerie, melodic, mournful noise hums from behind the tree. It is not Taz. It is not draconic.
My feather crest bristles to it's full shape, and I hiss. Quickly I leap to the other side of the tree. I come face to face (or rather my face to his belly) with a large, squat, complacent Mistwatch Shellion.
[center][img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/familiar/art/1929.png[/img][/center]
[i]Taz is sitting on the beast's head. Though it is large it seems tame, and echoes the same strange sad sound of a moment ago. Taz attempts to imitate the sound, but fails miserably. Around the Shellion's neck is a thin cord strung through a folded, dirty scrap of paper. I reach out to take it, the Shellion sighs deeply and closes its eyes, as if it has accomplished a great and tiring task.
The paper is intricately folded, despite its ragged appearance. When I pull it apart I discover a messy looping scrawl of one not quite focused, trailing off strangely. I read it.
[indent]"To the reader:
I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Aerie, and the healer says that I will be dead before dawn. Perhaps it is for the better, for it will not be long after, I think, that he, too, falls to the plague. I am calmer now, I think; perhaps death is not so bad after all. It will be peaceful, at least.
But I did not send this so that a stranger might read my incoherent ramblings; I sent it because I hope, dearly, that you are well, and that my dear familiar might find sanctuary with you. I call him Turtle, though my mate tells me--used to tell me--that it is not a proper name, but I think he will answer to anything. He is very calm and well-trained and likes to sit quietly and look into the woods early in the mornings. He is good at finding water, if ever you need it.
Please find enclosed in the box my last possessions, and a spare bit of food for the trouble (though Turtle has never been any trouble to me). I had always wanted to become a feared warrior in the Coliseum. Perhaps, if you want, these can help you do that.
Of course this letter may never be read, but I hope Turtle finds somebody that he can trust.
I hope that if he does, they will trust him, too.[/indent]
[i]The remainder of the letter is crossed out in fits and spurts, as though the writer had wanted to continue and not quite been able to express the right thing. I give up trying to make out the broken pieces, and I look up to find the Shellion gazing at you, and you have the impression of a creature that is very old and tired and sad. It makes another soft, sighing sound and nudges the box toward you. It then focuses its attention on Taz, and begins humming a soft melody to him. The young fae, tired out from all his "flying" and excitement makes himself cozy in the Shellion's soft mane.
I feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, and I angrily wipe them away. Whoever sent this letter was probably gone from the realm now, all because of the plague. Possibly the same on that wiped out my family, I thought sadly.
I reach over to the beat up box and open it. I am stunned by the items I find inside. There is a battlestone [item=shroud], which should help me with my fighting. Some [item=shadowscale shoulder guards] also lie in the box, but they are much too small for me. They look perfect for a fae...I glance over at the sleeping Taz. Perhaps when he's old enough. But the item I'm most excited about is a wrapped package of dried [item=sicklemaw gar].[i] This will feed me for a couple days, and I knew if I had continued unhelped in the Training Grounds that I would still not find enough seafood to fill my aching belly.
I pack the items back into the box, and begin carrying it back to the lair. "Well, come on then Turtle," I call back to the Mistwatch Shellion. He sighs, and begins slowly lumbering behind me, careful, I notice, not to wake the sleeping hatchling, still clutching to his mane. I place the items in my hoard, and carefully cut the box into strips, as fuel for my campfire. The shellion sits awkwardly in the walkway, unsure of where to go. My room doesn't have enough floorspace for a creature of his size.
"Wait here," I tell him. He gives me a look that said he wasn't planning on moving anyway. I find that the room next to mine has slightly more space than mine, enough for the Shellion and a small dragon. I scatter a few more feathers and pine needles on the ground, go back to the Mistwatch Shellion, and ask him to follow. He sighs again, and looks like he isn't going to come, but slowly he begins to shuffle after me. I show him the room, and he shuffles to the middle of the floor, sits down, and nods off to sleep, humming quietly. Taz is still asleep, and I decide to leave him with the Shellion. If nothing else, the creature could be the hatchling's babysitter.
I go out to catch more food, but I return soon with little success. All I have to show for my effort is a couple of insect legs, and a nasty gash on my hind leg. I flop down onto my bedding, tying some spare cloth around the wound. This is tough, I sigh. I miss my family...I think as I cry myself to sleep.
[center]
((Special Thanks to @Khoshekh for sending those items and writing the note portion of this Chapter!))
[size=2]Ping list for Updates
@Stormdragon @Stormrunner @NewHope @Khoshekh @psychocanes[/center]
I wake to the hum of Taz's voice. It seems he had finally found his tongue, but couldn't make any more noises than one pitch. Sleepily, I turn myself to him. He was sitting on the edge of the nest, humming the one note. I try to get him to say more notes, and fail. Whether he can't or if he won't, I don't think I'll be able to teach him the coatl language. It was later in the morning than I expected.
He seems persistent. Though his pitch doesn't change, he makes glances toward the exit of the lair, and flutters his tiny wings. He hasn't learned to fly yet, but he's figured out to flap his wings enough to become airborne for a short period of time.
"Do you have something to show me?" I ask him. He nods, and awkwardly flutters to the entrance of my room. I follow him, and he leads me out of the lair. I wonder how much he was exploring this morning if he already found his way out... Taz excitedly flutters onto a box nestled at the foot of a dying tree.
The box is unremarkable, and rather lopsided, as if some creature had nearly crushed it underfoot before guiltily startling up and attempting to reshape it into its old structural integrity. Taz flutters off the box, and flutters behind the tree. Then, a soft, eerie, melodic, mournful noise hums from behind the tree. It is not Taz. It is not draconic.
My feather crest bristles to it's full shape, and I hiss. Quickly I leap to the other side of the tree. I come face to face (or rather my face to his belly) with a large, squat, complacent Mistwatch Shellion.
Taz is sitting on the beast's head. Though it is large it seems tame, and echoes the same strange sad sound of a moment ago. Taz attempts to imitate the sound, but fails miserably. Around the Shellion's neck is a thin cord strung through a folded, dirty scrap of paper. I reach out to take it, the Shellion sighs deeply and closes its eyes, as if it has accomplished a great and tiring task.
The paper is intricately folded, despite its ragged appearance. When I pull it apart I discover a messy looping scrawl of one not quite focused, trailing off strangely. I read it.
"To the reader:
I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Aerie, and the healer says that I will be dead before dawn. Perhaps it is for the better, for it will not be long after, I think, that he, too, falls to the plague. I am calmer now, I think; perhaps death is not so bad after all. It will be peaceful, at least.
But I did not send this so that a stranger might read my incoherent ramblings; I sent it because I hope, dearly, that you are well, and that my dear familiar might find sanctuary with you. I call him Turtle, though my mate tells me--used to tell me--that it is not a proper name, but I think he will answer to anything. He is very calm and well-trained and likes to sit quietly and look into the woods early in the mornings. He is good at finding water, if ever you need it.
Please find enclosed in the box my last possessions, and a spare bit of food for the trouble (though Turtle has never been any trouble to me). I had always wanted to become a feared warrior in the Coliseum. Perhaps, if you want, these can help you do that.
Of course this letter may never be read, but I hope Turtle finds somebody that he can trust.
I hope that if he does, they will trust him, too.
The remainder of the letter is crossed out in fits and spurts, as though the writer had wanted to continue and not quite been able to express the right thing. I give up trying to make out the broken pieces, and I look up to find the Shellion gazing at you, and you have the impression of a creature that is very old and tired and sad. It makes another soft, sighing sound and nudges the box toward you. It then focuses its attention on Taz, and begins humming a soft melody to him. The young fae, tired out from all his "flying" and excitement makes himself cozy in the Shellion's soft mane.
I feel tears forming in the corners of my eyes, and I angrily wipe them away. Whoever sent this letter was probably gone from the realm now, all because of the plague. Possibly the same on that wiped out my family, I thought sadly.
I reach over to the beat up box and open it. I am stunned by the items I find inside. There is a battlestone
Shroud
Ability Stone
Envelops the enemy in a dark mist. Has a chance to apply Blind. (Decreases the target's accuracy.) May only be used by shadow dragons.
, which should help me with my fighting. Some
Shadowscale Shoulder Guards
Apparel
Forged in darkness, these shoulders are pieced-together from the trophies of vanquished foes.
also lie in the box, but they are much too small for me. They look perfect for a fae...I glance over at the sleeping Taz. Perhaps when he's old enough. But the item I'm most excited about is a wrapped package of dried
Sicklemaw Gar
Seafood
A marsh rich in gar is likely to be poor in other species of fish.
. This will feed me for a couple days, and I knew if I had continued unhelped in the Training Grounds that I would still not find enough seafood to fill my aching belly.
I pack the items back into the box, and begin carrying it back to the lair. "Well, come on then Turtle," I call back to the Mistwatch Shellion. He sighs, and begins slowly lumbering behind me, careful, I notice, not to wake the sleeping hatchling, still clutching to his mane. I place the items in my hoard, and carefully cut the box into strips, as fuel for my campfire. The shellion sits awkwardly in the walkway, unsure of where to go. My room doesn't have enough floorspace for a creature of his size.
"Wait here," I tell him. He gives me a look that said he wasn't planning on moving anyway. I find that the room next to mine has slightly more space than mine, enough for the Shellion and a small dragon. I scatter a few more feathers and pine needles on the ground, go back to the Mistwatch Shellion, and ask him to follow. He sighs again, and looks like he isn't going to come, but slowly he begins to shuffle after me. I show him the room, and he shuffles to the middle of the floor, sits down, and nods off to sleep, humming quietly. Taz is still asleep, and I decide to leave him with the Shellion. If nothing else, the creature could be the hatchling's babysitter.
I go out to catch more food, but I return soon with little success. All I have to show for my effort is a couple of insect legs, and a nasty gash on my hind leg. I flop down onto my bedding, tying some spare cloth around the wound. This is tough, I sigh. I miss my family...I think as I cry myself to sleep.
((Special Thanks to @Khoshekh for sending those items and writing the note portion of this Chapter!))
@Darknessdragon akljsgj aw Taz and the Mistwatch Shellion are adorable, I'm so happy at Draco's reaction to the items, poor thing ;u; I hope things get better for him soon ahh
@Darknessdragon akljsgj aw Taz and the Mistwatch Shellion are adorable, I'm so happy at Draco's reaction to the items, poor thing ;u; I hope things get better for him soon ahh
@Khoshekh
Thank you ;u; I figured the shellion would be a better companion for Taz than Draco
Thanks again for the stuff and seafood! even though the other dragon's I'm hosting gobbled up most of the food before Draco got any
@Khoshekh
Thank you ;u; I figured the shellion would be a better companion for Taz than Draco
Thanks again for the stuff and seafood! even though the other dragon's I'm hosting gobbled up most of the food before Draco got any
[center]Update coming later ^u^
I just thought of this and had to post
Draco and Taz's communication problem atm:
[img]http://media.tumblr.com/631641804e21a4a45810ab0dc79f6e22/tumblr_inline_mocmirmhCa1rlpk9c.gif[/img][/center]
[center][b][size=4]Chapter 4[/size=4]
[u]The Dark Abyss[/b][/u][/center]
[u][b]Kul[/b][/u][i][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3140796][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/31408/3140796.png?mtime=U_gJcQAAMKI.png[/img][/url]
This darkness...it's comforting. I'm in a void of nothingness, without pain, without feeling. I don't know how long I've been in this nothing, I have no sense of time. Soon, or perhaps after a long time, I begin to see two lights ahead of me. One is bright and golden, the other is a murky blackish purple. I feel a tugging sensation in my chest, like something was pulling on my heartstrings. The pull was coming from the lights, both tugging at my heart with equal ferocity.
Is this death? I had heard stories that when a dragon is dying, they see a bright light, which will take them to the afterlife. But I've never heard of another dark colored light. Perhaps I should just go into the light, if my body really is dying, do I want to return to it, just to suffer for a while longer before returning to this place?
I gaze at the golden light. It doesn't feel warm, nor does it feel very welcoming. It tugged at my heart a little stronger. I then look at the dark light. It's soft purple glow reminds me of my element, of my deity, the Shadowbinder. I could swear I see a glowing purple eye wink at me from the darkness.
I was beginning to feel myself sliding toward the golden light. Do I really want to die? Am I really so far gone from the real world that I shouldn't return? I hear a soft voice. It was coming from the purple light. "Kul," it whispered, just barely a breath, as if my name had been spoken with an exhale. The voice was comforting, and reminded me of love, and life. I pulled against the tug of the golden light. It will not take me. I will go back to the world.
The strings now become visible. From the purple light comes a shimmering thread, like silk. Its colors shifted like the night sky, and it connected me to the purple light from a spot in my chest, my heart. I then see the golden lights binding on me. It is a chain of obsidian links. The chain was visible by the golden glinting coming from the otherwise unseeable dark chains. I feel terror. The golden light is not my friend.
I pull as hard as I can against the black chain, which causes a pain in my chest, more intense than I had ever experienced before. I want to live! I scream, but there is no sound in this dark place. I then feel the purple thread pull on my heart, and the pain from the chain subsides. I continue toward the purple light with less opposition, but I feel my limbs become heavy, and I stumble many times. Pain is inflicted on my hide, and leaves dark black gashes. I must continue, no matter what. I stumble again, and feel a hard tug from the purple thread. I tumble into the purple light, and collapse.
[center][size=2]Ping list for Updates
@Stormdragon @Stormrunner @NewHope @Khoshekh @psychocanes
This darkness...it's comforting. I'm in a void of nothingness, without pain, without feeling. I don't know how long I've been in this nothing, I have no sense of time. Soon, or perhaps after a long time, I begin to see two lights ahead of me. One is bright and golden, the other is a murky blackish purple. I feel a tugging sensation in my chest, like something was pulling on my heartstrings. The pull was coming from the lights, both tugging at my heart with equal ferocity.
Is this death? I had heard stories that when a dragon is dying, they see a bright light, which will take them to the afterlife. But I've never heard of another dark colored light. Perhaps I should just go into the light, if my body really is dying, do I want to return to it, just to suffer for a while longer before returning to this place?
I gaze at the golden light. It doesn't feel warm, nor does it feel very welcoming. It tugged at my heart a little stronger. I then look at the dark light. It's soft purple glow reminds me of my element, of my deity, the Shadowbinder. I could swear I see a glowing purple eye wink at me from the darkness.
I was beginning to feel myself sliding toward the golden light. Do I really want to die? Am I really so far gone from the real world that I shouldn't return? I hear a soft voice. It was coming from the purple light. "Kul," it whispered, just barely a breath, as if my name had been spoken with an exhale. The voice was comforting, and reminded me of love, and life. I pulled against the tug of the golden light. It will not take me. I will go back to the world.
The strings now become visible. From the purple light comes a shimmering thread, like silk. Its colors shifted like the night sky, and it connected me to the purple light from a spot in my chest, my heart. I then see the golden lights binding on me. It is a chain of obsidian links. The chain was visible by the golden glinting coming from the otherwise unseeable dark chains. I feel terror. The golden light is not my friend.
I pull as hard as I can against the black chain, which causes a pain in my chest, more intense than I had ever experienced before. I want to live! I scream, but there is no sound in this dark place. I then feel the purple thread pull on my heart, and the pain from the chain subsides. I continue toward the purple light with less opposition, but I feel my limbs become heavy, and I stumble many times. Pain is inflicted on my hide, and leaves dark black gashes. I must continue, no matter what. I stumble again, and feel a hard tug from the purple thread. I tumble into the purple light, and collapse.
Entourage of the Lightweaver. (Brightshine Jubilee Holiday Familiar 2013.)
[center]He's a size chart of the crew so far, for my reference and yours ^^
[img]http://i.imgur.com/Nra0C1J.png[/img]
Their sizes may not be "accurate" to the sizes FR says they are, but this is what they are to me :)
He's a size chart of the crew so far, for my reference and yours ^^
Their sizes may not be "accurate" to the sizes FR says they are, but this is what they are to me :)
[center][b][size=4]Chapter 5[/size=4]
[u]Awakening and Bitter Memories[/b][/u][/center]
[center]*sorry this chapter is a little gore-y, lots of blood*[/center]
[u][b]Kul[/b][/u][i][url=http://flightrising.com/main.php?dragon=3140796][img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/avatars/31408/3140796.png?mtime=U_gJcQAAMKI.png[/img][/url]
Every inch of me hurts. I try to move my wing, but my body won't let me, and with a groan, I give up. I try to open my eyes, and find I can only open the larger of my right two eyes. The others are swollen shut and covered in cloth. I try to move my head to see my surroundings, but it caused such a headache that I didn't move far.
"I wouldn't try to move. You're hurt bad enough as it is," said a stranger's voice. She walks into my field of view, and holds a bowl of liquid to my parched mouth. "Drink," she says, "You've been out for two days now. I've bandaged your wounds, but you have so many, all over your body. You're lucky shadowlings are immune to Shadow Serpent venom." She's another mirror, like myself, but smaller, with shadowy colored scales, and black wings. Her eyes were purple, but glowed with an intensity that I hadn't seen in any dragon's eyes before.
I begin to feel stronger, and lift my head to see where I was at better. I am in a small space underneath a gnarled pine tree, and I'm laying on a bed of needles. There are blood smears on the ground leading from the entrance, and I can easily guess that the blood is mine. "Do you remember what happened?" The stranger asked.
"I...sort of..." My memory is cloudy, but as I think, images begin to fall in place. A hunting trip. My nomadic Plague Mirror clan. An ambush. Blood. Pain....Alone. I remember clearly now. My hunting party of six mirrors had gone on a hunting trip. We had ventured to the Forgotten Cave. I had warned them not to go in, but the leader of the pack laughed at me, and taunted that I was too scared. "I should have left you back with the hatchlings if I had known that you were a coward!" He hissed. I had only recently joined the clan from another, and was a number of levels weaker than my teammates. The rest of the group were not looking at me, and were giving quick glances to the leader. They would not oppose him. The leader turned and walked into the caves, followed immediately by the rest. I had no choice but to follow.
I attacked as much as I could, but ended up mostly dodging attacks, and trying to stay near the back of the attack group, where I would be safe. Suddenly, the caves become silent, but slowly, a buildup of hissing seemed to surround us. It becomes louder, and I realize the noise is materializing behind me. I spin around. We were being ambushed by a group of strong Shadow Serpents. They all came after me first, since I was now closest. As I looked back to my teammates, only one came forward to help. The rest...the rest just sat there and watched, nervously looking to the leader. He simply sat there and smiled. This was a test- a test he knows I will fail.
They wait until the serpents have about killed me, then jump in and slay the beasts. The leader of the pack comes up to me, grinning evilly, his bright red eyes shining. "You swore to us that you were ssstronger," he hissed. He placed his paw on my head and pressed my jaw into the ground, his sharp claws scratching my face, "You are a disgrace to this pack, along with this other one," he painfully scrapes my jaw on the ground so my head is pointing to my clanmate who came forward to help me. He was sprawled on the ground, twitching from the venom of the snakes.
"Pray to your deity that you die quickly. Or else something may come along and finish you off. This is the price of cowardice," he hissed, then dragged his claws down my face, shredding my left cheek, and blinding my vision with my blood. "All hail the Plaguebringer," he hisses quietly in my ear. He turns and walks out of the caves, and I see the other clanmates follow reluctantly, casting small, sad glances back at the two of us, dying in these hostile caves.
I don't remember much after that. I had passed in and out of conciseness. I knew at some time I had managed to drag myself over to my dying comrade, but he was dead when I reached him. I don't know how much longer I had stayed conscious after seeing him. The next thing I could remember was waking up in this space, with the stranger. I had memory of a dream, but it was becoming fuzzy, and fading quickly from my thoughts.
"If you don't wish to tell me, I can understand. Probably something horrific if you won't say," the stranger said indifferently, and I was brought out of my memories into the real world. "I must go, you'll feel better in a few hours. Keep drinking that liquid until it's gone."
"What is it? I whisper, my voice hoarse. The dark liquid seemed to be swirling on its own accord.
"Special," she says, and refuses to elaborate. "I've packed your bag with dried meat, enough for a week. Don't over exert yourself. You nearly died, and I don't want to come back here in a week to see you dead, despite what I've done for you." Her glowing eyes stare at me for a few seconds, seeming to stare into my very soul. "Goodbye, and good luck," she says as she exits the space, "You're a special one, my daughter of darkness."
I hear her fly away, her wing beats almost sounding too loud to belong to a mirror as small as herself. I sigh. Great. Left alone, bound in layers upon layers of cloth, and weak as a hatchling. I drink the remainder of the dark mystery liquid. It tastes like black licorice. I angrily set my sore jaw down on my paws, and quickly drift off to sleep.
[center][size=2]Ping list for Updates
@Stormdragon @Stormrunner @NewHope @Khoshekh @psychocanes @ArgenteaMoon
( Cookie points to whoever can guess who the mystery mirror was :D )
*sorry this chapter is a little gore-y, lots of blood*
Kul
Every inch of me hurts. I try to move my wing, but my body won't let me, and with a groan, I give up. I try to open my eyes, and find I can only open the larger of my right two eyes. The others are swollen shut and covered in cloth. I try to move my head to see my surroundings, but it caused such a headache that I didn't move far.
"I wouldn't try to move. You're hurt bad enough as it is," said a stranger's voice. She walks into my field of view, and holds a bowl of liquid to my parched mouth. "Drink," she says, "You've been out for two days now. I've bandaged your wounds, but you have so many, all over your body. You're lucky shadowlings are immune to Shadow Serpent venom." She's another mirror, like myself, but smaller, with shadowy colored scales, and black wings. Her eyes were purple, but glowed with an intensity that I hadn't seen in any dragon's eyes before.
I begin to feel stronger, and lift my head to see where I was at better. I am in a small space underneath a gnarled pine tree, and I'm laying on a bed of needles. There are blood smears on the ground leading from the entrance, and I can easily guess that the blood is mine. "Do you remember what happened?" The stranger asked.
"I...sort of..." My memory is cloudy, but as I think, images begin to fall in place. A hunting trip. My nomadic Plague Mirror clan. An ambush. Blood. Pain....Alone. I remember clearly now. My hunting party of six mirrors had gone on a hunting trip. We had ventured to the Forgotten Cave. I had warned them not to go in, but the leader of the pack laughed at me, and taunted that I was too scared. "I should have left you back with the hatchlings if I had known that you were a coward!" He hissed. I had only recently joined the clan from another, and was a number of levels weaker than my teammates. The rest of the group were not looking at me, and were giving quick glances to the leader. They would not oppose him. The leader turned and walked into the caves, followed immediately by the rest. I had no choice but to follow.
I attacked as much as I could, but ended up mostly dodging attacks, and trying to stay near the back of the attack group, where I would be safe. Suddenly, the caves become silent, but slowly, a buildup of hissing seemed to surround us. It becomes louder, and I realize the noise is materializing behind me. I spin around. We were being ambushed by a group of strong Shadow Serpents. They all came after me first, since I was now closest. As I looked back to my teammates, only one came forward to help. The rest...the rest just sat there and watched, nervously looking to the leader. He simply sat there and smiled. This was a test- a test he knows I will fail.
They wait until the serpents have about killed me, then jump in and slay the beasts. The leader of the pack comes up to me, grinning evilly, his bright red eyes shining. "You swore to us that you were ssstronger," he hissed. He placed his paw on my head and pressed my jaw into the ground, his sharp claws scratching my face, "You are a disgrace to this pack, along with this other one," he painfully scrapes my jaw on the ground so my head is pointing to my clanmate who came forward to help me. He was sprawled on the ground, twitching from the venom of the snakes.
"Pray to your deity that you die quickly. Or else something may come along and finish you off. This is the price of cowardice," he hissed, then dragged his claws down my face, shredding my left cheek, and blinding my vision with my blood. "All hail the Plaguebringer," he hisses quietly in my ear. He turns and walks out of the caves, and I see the other clanmates follow reluctantly, casting small, sad glances back at the two of us, dying in these hostile caves.
I don't remember much after that. I had passed in and out of conciseness. I knew at some time I had managed to drag myself over to my dying comrade, but he was dead when I reached him. I don't know how much longer I had stayed conscious after seeing him. The next thing I could remember was waking up in this space, with the stranger. I had memory of a dream, but it was becoming fuzzy, and fading quickly from my thoughts.
"If you don't wish to tell me, I can understand. Probably something horrific if you won't say," the stranger said indifferently, and I was brought out of my memories into the real world. "I must go, you'll feel better in a few hours. Keep drinking that liquid until it's gone."
"What is it? I whisper, my voice hoarse. The dark liquid seemed to be swirling on its own accord.
"Special," she says, and refuses to elaborate. "I've packed your bag with dried meat, enough for a week. Don't over exert yourself. You nearly died, and I don't want to come back here in a week to see you dead, despite what I've done for you." Her glowing eyes stare at me for a few seconds, seeming to stare into my very soul. "Goodbye, and good luck," she says as she exits the space, "You're a special one, my daughter of darkness."
I hear her fly away, her wing beats almost sounding too loud to belong to a mirror as small as herself. I sigh. Great. Left alone, bound in layers upon layers of cloth, and weak as a hatchling. I drink the remainder of the dark mystery liquid. It tastes like black licorice. I angrily set my sore jaw down on my paws, and quickly drift off to sleep.
