Quests & Challenges

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 4[/b] [item=Snakeskin] Material - Challenge[/center] ----- [font=Courier]Challenge roll: 16 - The Sacrifice Sacrifice roll: 4 - Offer nothing = Enraged deities, onslaught of disasters aimed at camp (yikes) Recruit survival rolls: 1 (Kazoo), 4, 1 (Vaz), 2, 4, 4, 2 [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/76998129][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/978714234479317002/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/77867057][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/978714188761432114/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/76998129] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/978713579224178718/unknown.png[/img][/url] Kazoo lay coiled tightly around his nest of eggs, eyes squeezed shut, breathing short and raspy, a kind of quiet agony tearing through his bones. When the earthquake had begun, he'd gone immediately to the nest, to protect them, his unborn children. When the quake hadn't [i]stopped[/i], and the other horrors [i]began[/i], he just hadn't moved, shielding the precious thin-shelled potentialities of life with his own scant hide. Maybe he'd succeeded. Maybe they would die anyway. Kazoo didn't know. He couldn't think, couldn't summon the will to feel any emotion in particular . . . all there was to feel was the pain. Shattered bones? Disease eating him inside-out? Some magical curse? Kazoo didn't know. Had the terrors even stopped? Would it ever end? Was this waiting stillness that of a predator, crouched in hiding, poised for the final bite? He didn't [i]care[/i]. He just had to—had to just—all he needed to do was protect the eggs. He would—could—not—move. His breathing suddenly grew shallower, lungs shrinking, throat closing, and he choked for air but his vision fuzzed at the edges as blackness stole his mind, and— ----- [font=Courier]well silt 'n ichor sure effed it up this time. probably mercury's fault. vaz and kazoo both get to kick it, but kazoo'll have to wait since he can't be exalted while on a nest lmao off to the flamecaller, vaz! the hatchlings will miss you :pensive:

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 5[/b] [item=Olympia Oyster] Seafood - 30-40 matches[/center] ----- [font=Courier]Hatchlings grew up, so no survival rolls for them! Coli team rolls: 6- Nightball (Lvl 1), 2- Siltbloom (Lvl 4), 3- Mercury (Lvl 7) Siltbloom and Nightball both reached level 5 (Siltbloom ending at 6), meaning they go to roll for jobs. Siltbloom went first and got a 20 (Champion) . . . with a following 4-sided roll of [b]1[/b] (Both die). [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/74869309][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979073916570062878/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/77672621][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979075137800388648/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78210914][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979075658867155064/unknown.png[/img][/url] Again and again, Mercury's claws raked down mercilessly down Nightball's head, neck, and shoulders, battering them from side to side and driving them back step by step. Each relentless blow shattered their concentration, preventing their half-cast spells from completely forming. Finally the guardian spun and slammed her tail against Nightball, sending them tumbling across the sparring circle and past the line drawn in the sooty dirt—thank the [i]Deities[/i], they were out of bounds. The bout was done. "Again!" Mercury roared, and Nightball groaned soundlessly but heaved themself to their feet, thinking she meant to go another round. But the guardian stomped over, towering above them with hackles raised and hissing, "That's another failure! When are you going to learn to stand your ground and [i]fight[/i]?" Nightball flinched as spittle from the guardian's tongue landed on their cheek, but knew better than to cower. They stood still, staring back as bravely as they could, but trembling. "[i]That's enough[/i]," snarled Siltbloom, emerging from the tetrahedron sheltering the nest, having just checked on Kazoo. Maybe the spiral's state was what pushed the tundra to the end of her tolerance. "Mercury, what are you thinking, pushing them so hard? The camp's punishment barely ended and you—" Mercury roared, spinning away from Nightball to advance on the other tundra. "That is [i]exactly[/i] why we must train harder! It's hardly enough just to survive—we need to [i]prove[/i] ourselves to Independent—become [i]ever stronger[/i]." Across the sparring circle, where they'd been ordered to sit and learn by watching the bouts, Eirianwen and Brys had gone wide-eyed. The guardian looked scared as usual, and the ridgeback's eyes glittered as she nodded along to Mercury's words. Despite being much smaller, Siltbloom glared up at Mercury, and defiantly flashed her fighting canines. "You think that's how this camp should be run, driving kids barely of fighting age to exhaustion? I won't stand for it." Mercury shoved her face up into the tundra's. "If you won't make yourself worthy for our new god," she hissed, "then [i]leave[/i]." Now the canines showed in full. Nightball's eyes widened as their newly-honed senses tingled as the air around Siltbloom suddenly buzzed with magical energy, enough to lift the tundra's fur, ruffling up to look three times bigger than before. A kind of mad light came to Siltbloom's eyes, a look Nightball had never seen before in the dragon. Malice, and a sort of giddiness. Siltbloom leaned in. "Make me." At first Nightball thought the fight would be over fast, just a few seconds after Mercury pounced and blood began to splatter across the ground and tetrahedrons. But then a screeching began, high-pitched and [i]pained[/i], and the guardian backed away, dragging a forefoot completely turned to stone. Siltbloom stalked after her, a ragged wound down half her face with an eye now missing bleeding profusely with the fur torn clear away, which the tundra ignored. Her attention was for Mercury alone. To Nightball's awed horror, the fossilization spell [i]wasn't stopping[/i] at Mercury's foot, but crawling up her leg. The guardian stopped retreating at the center of the sparring circle, clawing desperately at the shiny-black rock of her once-foot to no effect. Siltbloom halted at the edge of the circle, and bared her canines again, this time in a smirk. "I've been practicing," she said, unnecessarily. Mercury's panicked eyes narrowed to slits. She ground her jaw, as if holding back words—no, bracing herself for pain—as she reared up, lifting the transforming leg as high as she could, before [i]slamming[/i] it against the ground with the full force of her muscle and rage put behind it. The stone shattered, breaking off the limb three-quarters up, sending shards of sharp obsidian spraying around the camp. Nightball blinked, realizing they'd thrown up a shielding spell without even thinking about it, protecting not only themself but their other campmates who, like them, had not taken cover as maybe they should as the fight progressed. Siltbloom wasn't so lucky; she yowled as two slivers pierced her shoulder and chest, and was forced to yank them out while Mercury stumbled upright once again, at first unsteady at both the pain and sudden loss of weight on her left side. But no other part of her was fossilizing, so she fell into a battle-ready crouch. "Practice won't help," she panted, limping forward at an uneven, lurching pace, eyes shining with bloodthirsty lust. "Not against me." Siltbloom snarled and threw herself at the guardian and from there—then, it was over quickly, the two too closely-matched for one to dominate immediately, and both too angry to hold back, too enraged to realize they'd landed death blows on their opponent multiple times over long ago. Then it [i]was[/i] over, and Nightball wasn't sure how they knew, but they recognized the labored breathing, the twitching limbs, the dull blankness falling over the unseeing eyes, in the once-dragons as they did in prey. [i]One and the same[/i], they thought, staring at the corpses of the last adults they'd known. [i]It's all just meat[/i]. Then they blinked, pulled back to the present. They looked up, beyond the bodies, and met the gazes of their campmates, saw the same recognition of death in their eyes and stances. Brys was shaking badly, hunched over himself, but Eirianwen sat deathly still, her eyes hard and calculating as she stared at Nightball. The tundra wondered, [i]Would she challenge?[/i] and wasn't sure. But then . . . the ridgeback hesitated, and dipped their head to Nightball. Half surprised . . . So be it. Nightball forced their legs to bend, extend, move their body into the sparring circle. Mercury's crown—the champion's crown—had fallen off the guardian's head. Surprisingly, it was undamaged, but for new stains added to the old. It was a heavy weight in Nightball's claws, but they didn't quiver as they hoisted it up, and lifted it slowly to set upon their own head. Somehow . . . it fit just right. [i]My crown[/i]. The numbness in their limbs and mind melted away. Nightball raised their head, digging their claws into the ground for strength and praying to the Flamecaller for guidance, mercy. Their cleared their throat and gave their first command as champion of the camp. "Let's clean this up." ----- [font=Courier]jeeeeeeeeez lookit these idiots. i'd just gotten them through coli, yknow! then off siltbloom goes challenging mercury, [i]then both of them kick it[/i]. nightball doesn't even get their own job now!! they're stuck being champion! lskfjsldkfsdjlfs man yeah mercury will be sticking around with kazoo until tomorrow when their nest hatches, then both of them off to flamecaller lmao. cannot believe these guys

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 6[/b] [item=Tail Poof] Material - Challenge[/center] ----- [font=Courier]Egg coin flips: tails, tails (neither survive) Challenge roll: 12 - Coup 3d20s: [b]1[/b] (coup!), 11, 6 jeez [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78379090][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979441254536462366/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78379091][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979441288631959552/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78210914][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979073669399736400/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78210914] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979428946049380382/unknown.png[/img][/url] "Please," Nightball whispered, clutching the spiral's claws in their own. Kazoo's hearbeat was slowing, the movement beneath his eyelids stilling. "Please, please, please." Not just to avoid another death in the camp. Not just to have another working adult around. Not just to give the soon-to-hatch eggs one of their actual parents. But for someone else to take the crown from Nightball's head . . . for that, with no healing spells of their own, the tundra could only pray for a miracle over the spiral's dying body. But maybe the Deities were still angered by the lack of sacrifice, their wrathful attention not yet turned away. Maybe it would have happened no matter the power of a god, the body too broken, the spirit too shattered. But Kazoo let out one last wheezing breath, a shudder running down the long coils of his body, then slipped away from life. Nightball's head fell forward, dropping onto the spiral's with a soft [i]clink[/i] of their crown against his horns. "Don't leave me alone," they whispered. They stayed there a while, breath growing steadily more ragged as they tried to force back mounting panic. [i]Now what?[/i] Tell the others? Prepare for the burning? What to do with the eggs . . . [i]The eggs[/i]. Nightball jolted upright, and at the same moment, heard a loud CRACK like a log popping in a fire. Hatching! They were hatching! Nightball heaved Kazoo to the side, pushing his coils off the nest in time to see the two eggs . . . neither of which were moving. Their orange glows had gone out, with just one crack running down the length of a singular egg. Terror stabbed through Nightball's heart. "[i]No[/i]," they hissed, throwing their body atop them and gathering them close to their chest, to their central heat, trying to push the energy, the warmth, the [i]life[/i] into the eggs. "No no no no no! You will live you will live you will live." No matter of rubbing and coaxing and screaming could make the eggs' fire return. Snarling, Nightball snapped a spell, and [i]shoved[/i] pure, unfettered magic into the eggs, commanding them, "You will [i]live[/i]." A hum buzzed in the eggs, vibrating against Nightball's chest, and they let out an excited yowl, eagerly letting more magic flow. The eggs pulsed, then[i]burst[/i], eggshell shattering in dozens of pieces and splattering the walls and Nightball in boiling fluid, causing them to flinch and reflexively close their eyes. When they opened them again, wiping at their face, they stared down in horror at the twisted [i]things[/i] curled up tight between their claws. Dead. Never having taken a breath. A gasp at the entrance. Nightball looked up to find Brys standing there, trembling all over. And behind him, almost out of sight, expression shuttered— "Eirianwen," Nightball choked. They leapt to their feet, backing away from those [i]things[/i] in the ruined nest, pressing themself up against the tanned hide walling the tetrahedron faces. "I didn't—it was an—I [i]didn't mean to[/i]—" "Murderer," the ridgeback breathed. Brys shuddered, almost buckling in dismay, but Eirianwen placed claws on his shoulder and squeezed, as if to give strength. Or understanding. The guardian looked up at Nightball with a grimace, lips pulling back to bare teeth in an expression of utter disgust. Nightball whimpered. "No, no . . ." "Egg smasher," he agreed, and advanced a step, Eirianwen shadowing him. "You—you—" "It was a mistake!" Nightball shrieked, clawing at the leather walls as if they could escape. "They were dying already!" "Because," Eirianwen snarled, as the two stepped in closer and Nightball shrunk away from the malice in their eyes, "of [i]you[/i]." ----- [font=Courier]man. may be restarting the camp soon with the rate this is going at sldkfjsldfskl. welp, eirianwen is champion now :p canNOT believe that automatic one in the coup rolls. just about Yelled sldfksdjls did the other two Just Cuz :'')

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 7[/b] [item=Warmwater Twister] Seafood - 30-40 matches[/center] ----- [font=Courier]On the 28th battle, a greenroot janustrap struck . . . [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78210068][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979072276215500841/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78205879] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979812267392659466/unknown.png[/img][/url] Eirianwen clutched the guardian's horns in their claws, trying to shake Brys awake. His head rolled loosely, eyes utterly blank. Venom still gnawed and fizzed at the edges of the gaping wound torn through his side, some of the liquid dripping placidly to the ground. "This is not how it was supposed to go," Eirianwen hissed, rage and shock and grief twisting their words into a snarl. She shook him again, and at the lack of response, loosed an ear-splitting shriek. "[i]This is not how it should have happened![/i]" ----- [font=Courier]tell me about it, kid. :P literally two battles away..........brys was nearly at full health but a leaf bolt from the janustrap wiped him completely out sooooo eiri is indeed the Only camper lmao. we'll see if she kicks it tomorrow

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 8[/b] [item=Winter Wolf Pelt] Material - Challenge[/center] ----- [font=Courier]Challenge roll: 18 - Champion Quest time! Eirianwen is the only recruit and champion so she went into coli by themself, got up to level five. [gamedb item=390] dropped on the first battle, so by rights she gets to wear them now :3 Much chiller day than the past couple lmao. Have a nice drawing of Eria "enjoying" the peace and quiet of an empty camp <3 [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/980100952096931860/PXL_20220528_133101949.jpg[/img]

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 9[/b] [item=Berserker] Battle item - Uh oh![/center] ----- [font=Courier]Coin flip: Tails - DEATH STREAK Deaths in coli: None! [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78205879] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979812267392659466/unknown.png[/img][/url] Eirianwen lay on their back, picking idly at the dried blood caught underneath her claws as she tipped their head back to gaze at the smog-clogged night sky. As they did most every night, they squinted, trying to pierce through the thick layerings of smoke and catch sight of a "star". She was half-convinced stars were myths. A joke, attempted prank on a hatchling whose earliest memories took place in the Ashfall Waste. Tiny pinpricks of light? Burning in the sky far, far away? Please. Most days the smog hid even the sun, and they only rarely spied a moon. Still, she couldn't help but look. Eirianwen hadn't done so in a while, too consumed in the stress and vigor of survival, training, waiting for the famed Independent. (Surely her Contractors would return sometime. Surely.) But after that chance meeting with those travelers . . . Eirianwen hadn't [i]meant[/i] to meet with any other dragons. She remembered the cruelty of some strangers, like the pack who'd chased them and terrorized Brys. (But not all strangers. Vaz had found them, after all, brought them to the camp. And how'd that turned out, hm?) But the travelers had spotted her before Eirianwen could duck out of sight, and called out in a friendly manner, wondering if they had any goods to trade, news to share. And it would've been silly, foolish to pretend she hadn't heard their greeting, so she'd come out, head held high. The travelers were [i]nosy[/i], too damn curious for their liking, asking about where Eirianwen lived, where were their friends, oh, were they a loner? Here, in the Fumaroles? Was that really safe? Would they like to join— Eirianwen snapped their jaws shut, shoved the bundle of dried fish in the skydancer's claws, and turned tail before he could finish that sentence. She scrambled onto a boulder and snarled, "Move along before anything meaner smells you!" and hid until they heard the caravan get moving again. She'd started back towards the camp. Until they heard the tell-tale sounds of battle from behind, growled in frustration, and turned back to help the travelers fight off a band of bandits. The skydancer had made the same offer. Eirianwen showed their teeth and stalked away without answer, anger curling in their gut. Now, hours later, Eirianwen scowled again. Join a bunch of roving merchants, too dumb to mind their own business and get attacked by marauders. As if. She gazed up at the sky, watched the slow-shifting currents of smoke and ash swirl above. Maybe stars were real in other places. Eirianwen rolled over and curled up to sleep. ----- [font=Courier]not sure how death streaks really work when the champion isn't supposed to be able to die in coli? but eh eiri didn't faint in the ten matches so it's a nonissue for now. sldfjslkdfs may be a nonissue for a while longer unless pink gives me some new recruits

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 10[/b] [item=Armored Hornworm] Insect - 20-30 matches[/center] ----- [font=Courier][url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78205879] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979812267392659466/unknown.png[/img][/url] Eirianwen craned their neck over the edge of the crater, peering down into the volcano that the Contractors called home. Or, [i]would've[/i] called home, maybe, if any of them actually ever bothered to show up. She sat down heavily with a disgruntled [i]humph[/i], and tapped their claws against a point of obsidian thrust up from the ground, an early sign of a new tetrahedron growing. Surely that meant the mercenaries would return, if Independent's power continued to manifest. . . . If anything Mercury had told them was the truth. Grinding their jaw, Eirianwen stood up. Skulking around wasn't going to find her any answers, and neither was moping about camp, running through the same practice drills over and over. Time for a hunt. ----- [font=Courier]eiri reached level six, huzzah. not dead yet

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 11[/b] [item=Discipline] Battle item - Uh oh![/center] ----- [font=Courier]Coin flip: Heads - Beastclan attack d12: 8 [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78205879] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979812267392659466/unknown.png[/img][/url] Before they left the camp's surrounding territory, Eirianwen knew they had a . . . visit to pay. With one whack of her forefoot, Eirianwen sent the harpy scout spinning to the ground, and leapt upon it before it could throw up its talons in defense. It snapped its beak at her, even as she wrestled to pin its wings flat, and Eirianwen snarled in warning, pressing claws against its throat. "I'll smash that pretty mask of yours if you keep fighting," they growled, tapping a claw against the fired clay. She doubted it understood draconic, just as they didn't know whatever bird-speak harpies used, but it seemed to comprehend the meaning regardless and snapped its beak shut, eyeing the ridgeback warily. Now that she had the scout subdued, Eirianwen considered what to do, flexing their claws in thought. The harpy let out a choked squawk, maybe thinking Eirianwen was going to kill it. But no, it hadn't been the harpy clan that had ambushed the camp when the first recruits had moved into the tetrahedron forest. That would send the wrong message, killing a single scout that was still so young. But even beasts talked to another . . . Keeping their grip on the harpy's neck, Eirianwen moved off its wings so she could stand and drag it over to the nearest tetrahedron. It squawked in surprise, wings beating to try and keep its balance, but didn't attack or try to escape. Eirianwen swung it into the tetrahedron and growled, tightening her claws, then pulled it back out and relaxed her claws. The harpy looked bewildered, so Eirianwen repeated the sequence a few more times. "When you get near the tetrahedrons, I'll get angry," they said, showing their teeth. "When you stay away, we're fine." The harpy looked at her, then the tetrahedron, then her again. Eirianwen shook it impatiently. "Understand?" It chattered something in its tongue and made a strangle waggling motion with its tail feathers. Eirianwen eyed it, wondering if that waggle was something offensive at their expensive, then finally let it go, tossing it up into the air with a final warning, "Anyone that hunts in the tetrahedrons, I'll kill you! Tell your friends!" It threw out it wings before it could tumble to the ground and fled without a backward glance, leaving only a scattering of feathers on the ground. Eirianwen snorted, then grimaced. It was the best they could do. They lifted their pack onto their back, and set off to go hunting. ----- [font=Courier]pink sure loves those disciplines huh :pensive:

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 12[/b] [item=Sand] Material - Challenge[/center] ----- [font=Courier]Challenge d20 roll: 1 - Scandal/Romance afoot Eirianwen being the only recruit, there's no one to mate! And so, random AH hatchling it is: [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78527132][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/981616470066872360/unknown.png[/img][/url] [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78205879] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979812267392659466/unknown.png[/img][/url] A day's travel from camp, not wanting to deplete their reserves too quickly, Eirianwen headed for the beach. The prospect of diving below the gray-tossed waves was unappealing to say the least, but fortunately the ridgeback had learned a different trick. They hauled the last of the long ropey strands of kelp in from the tide with a final yank, dragging the heavy waterlogged plant up the rocky shore out of the reach of the water. Flicking the saltwater off their hindfeet in disgust, she settled down on her haunches to pick through the kelp. Vaz had taught them that this species often harbored a small, armored, yet delicious crab that would make for an excellent dinner. And sure enough, Eirianwen soon had a row of purplish-red crustaceans lined up on their backs beside her, unable to escape with their legs wiggling in the air. Untangling the last lower strands of the kelp, however, they found a sodden dark lump far too large to be a crab. Eyes narrowed, Eirianwen gave it a sharp poke, and drew back when it gave a high-pitched yelp. "What are you?" she hissed. The lump opened startlingly blue eyes. "Don't eat me!" the hatchling squeaked. ". . . Shade take me," Eirianwen muttered. ----- [font=Courier]congratulations to eiri in the acquisition of an unwanted child. hope you enjoy being a single parent! huzzah ty to the luck gods for relenting and giving me another recruit HA

[center][font=Courier][b]DAY 13[/b] [item=Fragile Moth Wings] Insect - 20-30 matches[/center] ----- [font=Courier]Hatchling d6: 3 - Survival 30 battles got Eirianwen [i]almost[/i] to level seven, but not quite lmao [url=https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/78205879] [img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/952688392167108628/979812267392659466/unknown.png[/img][/url] Eirianwen saw the town on the horizon from the air, watched it grow steadily in size as she approached. They scented no magic surrounding the settlement, but, being a stranger, she knew it was polite to land and walk in rather than swoop on down in the center of the place. She touched down a short distance from the town's signpost, a slab of unsmelted ore with some words scorched in. Eirianwen could make out [b]SMOKESNORT[/b] and something about travelers, trade maybe, but most of the scrawl had been eaten away by oxidation. More interesting than the post was the orange gaoler lounging beside it, wearing an old battered set of iron armor. The pauldron, emblazoned with a forge sigil, possibly marked them as a retired soldier. Or maybe it was just stolen, scavenged. Eirianwen walked up, clicking their jaw in greeting. The guard didn't look up from picking at their claws. "Name? Business?" "Eirianwen, on the wing. Looking for a meal, drink. Trade, maybe. Smokesnort got a pub for that?" Without a glance, the gaoler nodded to the pack on her back. "Who's the kid?" "Hello!" Idurre chirped, waving their pearl in the air. Eirianwen snapped her jaws to shut them up, and showed their teeth at the guard. "None of your concern," she growled, taking a step closer. "Now is it?" Finally the gaoler rolled their head up to give Eirianwen a lazy, critical one-over, clearly unimpressed by the threat. "Some in town might be," they said at last. Their gaze slid over to Idurre, who huddled down, pearl clutched close to their chest. "Keep 'em close by, that's all." "As if I wouldn't," Eirianwen growled, and stalked past the old guard, who didn't object, merely went back to cleaning their claws. But on the short dirt path to the town, Eirianwen hissed to Idurre, "Climb inside the pack. I don't want you making a sound until we're on wing again." The pearlcatcher obediently wiggled inside, but poked their head out. Eirianwen reached back and slapped the flap closed, fastening it. Idurre yipped in complaint. "Can't I look out and see?" they whined. "No," Eirianwen growled, but saw from the corner of her vision a blue eye pressed to the gap, staring out in wonder. She sighed but didn't comment, squaring their shoulders and lifting their head as they strode into Smokesnort. Forget the kid for now. The hunt began [i]now[/i]. ----- [font=Courier]idurre survived this day! let's see how smokesnort treats them . . .