((Happy to hear that you're both subbed! :3 Btw if at any time you have any suggestions for the RP or a direction you'd like to take it, feel free to say so!
Hello @
Alligatorsight! Thank you for your interest, it's really appreciated! I also read through your lore out of curiosity and thoroughly enjoyed it. However, I really prefer smaller RPs and I don't think I want it to get bigger than this. I hope you understand.))
The thing that was in the sack hit the ground with a soft thud. At first glance, it looked a bit like a discarded wig that had grown four talons. It made a soft croaking sound before flipping its head backwards to move its fur out of its eyes.
On the ground sat a hatchling Gaoler, pieces of frost-egg still hanging in her fur. A few larger pieces would spill out of the sack beside her, suggesting she had hatched shortly before the guardian's- or perhaps eggnapper's- landing. She blinked her large, red eyes- it seemed The Scarred Wasteland had influenced the baby's element whilst it was in the egg.
The Gaoler made sounds of delight seeing the world
outside the bag for the first time. She clumsily pranced in a circle, cooing at the night sky. Stars began to make their appearance and twinkle within the over-arcing dark. It was as though she hadn't even noticed the Imperial or the Wildclaw yet.
---
As evening closed in fully, the guardian took in a chilled breath. He had made it to the Foxfire Bramble, and the wind whistled through it's tangle of thorny arms like an angry ghost. Walking on foot to rest his sore wings, the guardian made sure to keep them close and proceeded into the maze of hooked vegetation.
The wind revealed slowly the trends he was looking for- small pieces of twirling, bright ribbon hung heavy with beads and other strange trinkets. Deeper within, closer to the lair, the scraps of cloth became larger. In some brambles, the hides of eaten prey weighed the plants down. Gorion mentally prepared himself for the meeting he had been dreading.
Waiting for him, outside a pile of heaped textiles and cloth, was a dark skydancer with piercing, yellow eyes. She looked the Guardian up and down silently.
"Molsomner," Gorion rumbled, a twinge of embarassment in his voice.
"No eggs, I see." Molsomner replied sharply, almost interrupting the guardian in the quickness of her reply. "Your mother will be displeased to hear it. Dare I ask what happened, or better I find out for myself?"
Gorion hesitated, thinking of how to reply. He was sure he had looked oafish in the Wandering Contagion...
