01-05-2017, 03:12 PM
((lol really wishing I’d thought to post Rora’s temporary trait as her permanent one before entering her in the quest. Alas, onward.))
I bid my new monkey-face cat-friend goodbye and scamper off toward the water, because I am soooo so so so thirsty! As I get close to the trees though, a voice calls out, “I can help you!” Oh, good! Help would be lovely! So I redirect my scamper toward the sound of the voice and maybe another new friend, especially if he’s going to be all nice and helpful. Unlike monkey-cat-friend, who was very odd and very rude. Well, but he did stand up and let me pass, even if he was very strange about it, so maybe he was only somewhat rude. Either way, his mommy should maybe give him a better lesson in manners. Ohhh or maybe he doesn’t have a mommy! Poor monkey-cat-friend!
“Drink.” Oh, right, yes, good. Newer new friend, who looks an awful lot like cat-tail-man but with two faces - new friends? even better! - points me toward the water and I could smother him with tickly-whisker kisses I’m so thirsty. I fall into the water, swallowing down as much as my tummy can hold and letting the rest rush around me and wash some of the dried up sweat and dust away and cool me off, and I almost don’t even notice the trees growing shut, twining and twisting and trapping me in with my new two-face friends. Friend? Friends. Yes. Definitely friends, because both of them talk separately.
“Um, are you sure you know what help means?” I ask, a nervous tickle in my newly-filled belly as doors appear in the tree walls. “It’s okay if you don’t know, that’s what asking questions is for.” But they go on, and give me a choice between going home, back across the heat and the rock and the sand and not saving...well, someone. Her. Whoever she is. Or going through a door with a cool wingy thing on it or one with a squirmy wormy on it. I don’t know anything about either of the creatures that hide behind the doors, but the name death worm sounds...um, scary. And dangerful. And probably Momma would not be happy if I picked the door with the death thing hiding behind it. Soooo “I guess I’ll pick the--” Oh. Well. Okay, or new friends are gone.
Maybe Momma needs to teach manners lessons. They didn’t even say goodbye!
Well fine, that’s okay. I go up to the door with the wingy thing on it, because it didn’t have dying in its name. And I push the door with my nose, since that’s all I have for opening it. Unlike new friends who had hands and did not stay to use them. Shaking my head, I nudge the door open and step through and back into the dark.
The tunnel is small, narrow and dark at first, dim light flickering from inside the sandpapery-stone walls, flickering and catching on sparkly spots. Some of those sparkles are even big enough I can see my face in them, which is pretty neat at least. It’s still very hot though, so I’m glad I cooled off in the water even if it is all gone too soon, drying up to try to keep me from crispifying in the heat. I walk on, because what else is there to do now? Just go forward and hope the wingy thing is less scary than squirmy wormy death.
Small and dark and narrow only lasts a little while though, because soon the tunnel starts splitting, branching and weaving back together. All the paths lead the same way, or at least it looks like it. I can see them joining back up again, curving in on each other like a dance through solid rock. As I walk, the sparkles in the walls get bigger, some even as big as my face, and shiny all reflecty like really calm water but solid. I even reach out to touch one to make sure, and yep! Solid, and my nose leaves a little smudge on the shiny surface. Oh and as I walk the branches get bigger too, taller and wider, and when they come together again they open into a big chamber, like a cave in the middle of the ground, and right in the middle--
Oh. Oh goodness. My eyes slam shut all by themselves, and my heart starts to race, and never before in my whole (maybe kinda short so far) life have I ever felt such a big strong push to Don’t Look! All I saw out of the corner of my eye was a flap of wings and just enough to know it was the cockatrick...cocktrix...cock-something wingy thing from the door but big big big and Don’t Look! Oh my heavens but my heart has never ever beat this fast that I can remember, not even after racing Mommy and Daddy through the trees so fast that the trunks all blurred together!
Okay. Okay, don’t look at the big cockathingy. Alright, heart, I got it. But I gotta keep going, though, so can I maybe sneak a quick peek around to see where I have to go? I open my eyes just a teensy weensy bit, just enough to look at the tunnel and how it curves out to make space for the wingybeast to romp and play, and then on the other side of the thing-I’m-not-supposed-to-see, the cave thing gets all narrow again, and the light over there is brighter, too, though I can’t quite see why with my eyes mostly closed.
Maybe if I walk really, really quietly? And just peek little bits at a time to make sure I’m not gonna bump into the wall or the whatchamathingy? I pick one foot up and set it down as quiet as I can, doing my very fairy berry scary hairy bestest not to make a clomp or a clatter when I put it back down. I peek again, and the cockabeast isn’t running at me and trying to eat me, or shooting fire out of its--it had a beak on the picture, I think, right?--beak at me, or making laser eyes like Momma can when she’s really, really mad. Which is lots of fun to watch when it’s Momma, but maybe not so fun when it’s something that might hurt me.
I keep creeping forward, peeking and sneaking and going as sloooowly as I can, and the wingy whatsit doesn’t seem to notice me at all, which makes the racing thump-thump of my heart ease up a little in my chest and breathing feels a little easier. Right up ‘til my hoof catches on a rock that is just an incy wincy bit taller than I was expecting, and I trip and fall to the ground in a clattery tangle of limbs, a great big grunt escaping as I land.
Uh-oh.
A huuuge scary ROAR echoes through the cavern tunnel thing and I scramble to my feet and run run run! I keep my eyes closed shut, but the brighter light from the other end of the tunnel is coming from right up ahead, so I just run toward it and hope hope hope there’s nothing else in the way. The scarybeast screams and oh it’s closer, close enough to make the ground shake and tremble beneath me. Oh my, and I’m making so so much noise, but the light is my safe place, it has to be. Mommy said the light wraps her up in hugs and cuddles and love, and makes her feel cozy and safe even when she’s all alone, so I run run run to the light and let it swallow me up.
The monsterthing screams louder, sounding so so mad that my heart gallops faster in my chest. I have to peek to see where I’m going so I don’t run into a wall and hurt myself, so I crack one eye open--and the tunnel around me is glowing with light and reflecting me back at myself from all directions. And even though the scarybeast stopped before the reflecty part started, I keep running ‘til I can’t see it anymore, and when the tunnel ends it empties out into a strange white room.
I bid my new monkey-face cat-friend goodbye and scamper off toward the water, because I am soooo so so so thirsty! As I get close to the trees though, a voice calls out, “I can help you!” Oh, good! Help would be lovely! So I redirect my scamper toward the sound of the voice and maybe another new friend, especially if he’s going to be all nice and helpful. Unlike monkey-cat-friend, who was very odd and very rude. Well, but he did stand up and let me pass, even if he was very strange about it, so maybe he was only somewhat rude. Either way, his mommy should maybe give him a better lesson in manners. Ohhh or maybe he doesn’t have a mommy! Poor monkey-cat-friend!
“Drink.” Oh, right, yes, good. Newer new friend, who looks an awful lot like cat-tail-man but with two faces - new friends? even better! - points me toward the water and I could smother him with tickly-whisker kisses I’m so thirsty. I fall into the water, swallowing down as much as my tummy can hold and letting the rest rush around me and wash some of the dried up sweat and dust away and cool me off, and I almost don’t even notice the trees growing shut, twining and twisting and trapping me in with my new two-face friends. Friend? Friends. Yes. Definitely friends, because both of them talk separately.
“Um, are you sure you know what help means?” I ask, a nervous tickle in my newly-filled belly as doors appear in the tree walls. “It’s okay if you don’t know, that’s what asking questions is for.” But they go on, and give me a choice between going home, back across the heat and the rock and the sand and not saving...well, someone. Her. Whoever she is. Or going through a door with a cool wingy thing on it or one with a squirmy wormy on it. I don’t know anything about either of the creatures that hide behind the doors, but the name death worm sounds...um, scary. And dangerful. And probably Momma would not be happy if I picked the door with the death thing hiding behind it. Soooo “I guess I’ll pick the--” Oh. Well. Okay, or new friends are gone.
Maybe Momma needs to teach manners lessons. They didn’t even say goodbye!
Well fine, that’s okay. I go up to the door with the wingy thing on it, because it didn’t have dying in its name. And I push the door with my nose, since that’s all I have for opening it. Unlike new friends who had hands and did not stay to use them. Shaking my head, I nudge the door open and step through and back into the dark.
The tunnel is small, narrow and dark at first, dim light flickering from inside the sandpapery-stone walls, flickering and catching on sparkly spots. Some of those sparkles are even big enough I can see my face in them, which is pretty neat at least. It’s still very hot though, so I’m glad I cooled off in the water even if it is all gone too soon, drying up to try to keep me from crispifying in the heat. I walk on, because what else is there to do now? Just go forward and hope the wingy thing is less scary than squirmy wormy death.
Small and dark and narrow only lasts a little while though, because soon the tunnel starts splitting, branching and weaving back together. All the paths lead the same way, or at least it looks like it. I can see them joining back up again, curving in on each other like a dance through solid rock. As I walk, the sparkles in the walls get bigger, some even as big as my face, and shiny all reflecty like really calm water but solid. I even reach out to touch one to make sure, and yep! Solid, and my nose leaves a little smudge on the shiny surface. Oh and as I walk the branches get bigger too, taller and wider, and when they come together again they open into a big chamber, like a cave in the middle of the ground, and right in the middle--
Oh. Oh goodness. My eyes slam shut all by themselves, and my heart starts to race, and never before in my whole (maybe kinda short so far) life have I ever felt such a big strong push to Don’t Look! All I saw out of the corner of my eye was a flap of wings and just enough to know it was the cockatrick...cocktrix...cock-something wingy thing from the door but big big big and Don’t Look! Oh my heavens but my heart has never ever beat this fast that I can remember, not even after racing Mommy and Daddy through the trees so fast that the trunks all blurred together!
Okay. Okay, don’t look at the big cockathingy. Alright, heart, I got it. But I gotta keep going, though, so can I maybe sneak a quick peek around to see where I have to go? I open my eyes just a teensy weensy bit, just enough to look at the tunnel and how it curves out to make space for the wingybeast to romp and play, and then on the other side of the thing-I’m-not-supposed-to-see, the cave thing gets all narrow again, and the light over there is brighter, too, though I can’t quite see why with my eyes mostly closed.
Maybe if I walk really, really quietly? And just peek little bits at a time to make sure I’m not gonna bump into the wall or the whatchamathingy? I pick one foot up and set it down as quiet as I can, doing my very fairy berry scary hairy bestest not to make a clomp or a clatter when I put it back down. I peek again, and the cockabeast isn’t running at me and trying to eat me, or shooting fire out of its--it had a beak on the picture, I think, right?--beak at me, or making laser eyes like Momma can when she’s really, really mad. Which is lots of fun to watch when it’s Momma, but maybe not so fun when it’s something that might hurt me.
I keep creeping forward, peeking and sneaking and going as sloooowly as I can, and the wingy whatsit doesn’t seem to notice me at all, which makes the racing thump-thump of my heart ease up a little in my chest and breathing feels a little easier. Right up ‘til my hoof catches on a rock that is just an incy wincy bit taller than I was expecting, and I trip and fall to the ground in a clattery tangle of limbs, a great big grunt escaping as I land.
Uh-oh.
A huuuge scary ROAR echoes through the cavern tunnel thing and I scramble to my feet and run run run! I keep my eyes closed shut, but the brighter light from the other end of the tunnel is coming from right up ahead, so I just run toward it and hope hope hope there’s nothing else in the way. The scarybeast screams and oh it’s closer, close enough to make the ground shake and tremble beneath me. Oh my, and I’m making so so much noise, but the light is my safe place, it has to be. Mommy said the light wraps her up in hugs and cuddles and love, and makes her feel cozy and safe even when she’s all alone, so I run run run to the light and let it swallow me up.
The monsterthing screams louder, sounding so so mad that my heart gallops faster in my chest. I have to peek to see where I’m going so I don’t run into a wall and hurt myself, so I crack one eye open--and the tunnel around me is glowing with light and reflecting me back at myself from all directions. And even though the scarybeast stopped before the reflecty part started, I keep running ‘til I can’t see it anymore, and when the tunnel ends it empties out into a strange white room.
pic by Qinni