He wakes slowly, and every tiny motion of his stirring body feels different, weird, wrong. Yronwood opens his eyes, and now the entire *world* is wrong. He finds himself lying in some kind of huge box, barely able to see anything in the dim light present within said huge box. Definitely *not* the Jungle kingdom he'd been in since birth. After Roe manages to get over the shock of seeing the sudden dye-job he'd gotten and the other changes to his body, he notices that he is surrounded by many other creatures, lying motionless in the shadows. None of them appear to be Ephrelle, the other Amazon females he had come to know, or even Dorne, and the colt feels even more like a fish out of water as he realizes he is completely alone, no friends, no family, here. He sits there, at a loss, for several more minutes, before cautiously touching his newly plastic to the closest figure, a fluffy brown dog-thing which had a ripped ear and several patches of fur missing. It comes alive with a sudden panicky growl, looking straight at him, and Roe hastily attempts to back away from its display of aggression.
In doing so, he manages to trip over backwards over another of what he belatedly realizes are toys--was that what he was now too??--and ends up back on the floor of the toy box, seeing stars for a bit. The formerly-spotted boy expects to feel the dog trying to bite one of his bright red limbs, and indeed it does make the attempt. Fortunately for him, its floppy mouth is toothless, and all it manages to do before giving up with a whine of annoyance is mouth his right foreleg without causing so much as a scratch to the plastic surface. The toy he'd managed to trip over is now partially under him, and it pushes itself free as it also comes to life. He stammers out an apology as he lifts his silver-and-green maned head to look at it. This second toy is one of those eternally-grinning cymbal-monkeys that people tend to find rather creepy, albeit this one seems to have fared better in life so far than the fluffy dog has, for he sees no immediately visible signs of damage to its fur and blue shirt. It does, however, seem rather irritated with him for falling on top of it. Its eyes narrow at him, and the cymbal-hands clang together, issuing a jarring chime that makes Roe wish that his sense of hearing had been affected by his transformation.
"Excuse you, are you not capable of watching where you're going? " But after listening to him repeat his apology for a second time, the monkey seems to calm down, lowering its paws and rocking from side to side on its feet as if calming itself. "I guess you can call me Monkey. Not very original I'm sure, but it's what the monster girl who takes us out of here to toss around for awhile seems to call me. What's your name, and how did you get here? Not intentionally, I hope. Most of us that are stuck in here aren't in such good shape, and you look the sort that's going to be played with a lot. I'm lucky so far in that she doesn't seem to like playing with me much, so I usually get passed over. " Yronwood sits back on his haunches, taking in all this sudden info, before realizing that Monkey is still waiting for a reply. "Oh, uh, I'm Yronwood, Roe for short. And I have no idea how I got here, or why. " He looks upward briefly, noticing that what light they do have is definitely coming from there, a small hole located at one end of the box lid. "You've been out of this box then? What's out there? " "The simian toy wrinkles its nose. "Outside of here is her room. Not a place you want to get out into, unless you're crazy. At least in here, there's places to hide. Out there, well.....toys are at her mercy. " Roe listens intently, feeling more and more uneasy as he does so.
He appreciates Monkey's warnings, but he can't bring himself to heed them. "I need to get out of here, I need to get back home. My sister needs me. Maybe if I can get out into her room, whoever she is and if she is as dangerous as you say, I can find a way from there back to Beqanna, my home. Is there any way that you think you could help me get out of here, please? I'm willing to take my chances out there. " The cymbal-monkey shakes its head slowly at first, clearly thinking him insane, but eventually sighs and agrees. It looks up towards the roof of the box, judging the distance, and Yronwood follows its gaze. "Nope. Not going to work. Go and find something for me to get up on, something with some height to it. And preferably something that won't object to being stood upon, heh. " Obediently, the tiny plastic horse trots off, being very careful to avoid stepping on or brushing against anything else. Spotting the stuffed dog still lurking nearby, eying him grumpily, was just a further reminder not to agitate the locals further. It's harder than he would like to pull off in the semi-darkness, and it's not until he is nearly upon them (and with having barely avoided a close encounter with a large green plastic T-rex that is missing one of its stubby arms!) that he at last spies something that might work. He pushes them back to the waiting Monkey one at a time, a set of wooden building blocks that he is told have not been played with for many years by the girl.
He tries, but is unable to grip some of the blocks to place them upon the others to form a platform with his mouth, but Monkey is able to instruct him how to make quick "grab and drops" by using his front feet to grip, followed by a fast rearing motion directly in front of the blocks' base level, then pushing the second layer fully into position with his nose. The brown-furred toy insists that he leave one block uncovered as a sort of stepladder, and then waddles its way up onto the second level. He is then instructed to help lay Monkey on its side, so that it can attempt to give him a boost upwards with one of its cymbals. Just standing on it and being lifted doesn't seem to get him all the way up to the toy box's lid, so they decide to try another tactic. He moves off to the edge of the block-platform, then rushes towards the simian as fast as his unfamiliar feet can manage. Leaping up into the air, he lands upon the cymbol, trying to use it as a springboard. He is pushed upwards higher by his own momentum and Monkey's upward shove. Yronwood manages somehow to have his front feet be ahead of him as he hits the edge of the lid, and the twin projectiles manage to lift the top. Just enough for the colt to find himself stuck between it and the lower edge. An area even bigger than the private world of the toy box greets his eyes, and he lets himself hang them for a moment as he surveys it, all four legs dangling rather comically. He is afraid to angle himself enough to get his head back inside to call out a thank you, lest he topple back down inside it, but he hopes that the frantic swishing of his green-striped tail will convey his gratitude to the cymbal-monkey left below in the pale light. Grunting and wriggling vigorously, Roe eventually free-falls to the carpet waiting below, landing with a further grunt. The wind is knocked out of him, and he lies there for several moments, breathing deeply until he regains it. Climbing to his plastic feet, he stands there, feeling incredibly small. Now, how to find a way back to Beqanna from here? Despite his hope, he has no real idea of what his next move should be.
In doing so, he manages to trip over backwards over another of what he belatedly realizes are toys--was that what he was now too??--and ends up back on the floor of the toy box, seeing stars for a bit. The formerly-spotted boy expects to feel the dog trying to bite one of his bright red limbs, and indeed it does make the attempt. Fortunately for him, its floppy mouth is toothless, and all it manages to do before giving up with a whine of annoyance is mouth his right foreleg without causing so much as a scratch to the plastic surface. The toy he'd managed to trip over is now partially under him, and it pushes itself free as it also comes to life. He stammers out an apology as he lifts his silver-and-green maned head to look at it. This second toy is one of those eternally-grinning cymbal-monkeys that people tend to find rather creepy, albeit this one seems to have fared better in life so far than the fluffy dog has, for he sees no immediately visible signs of damage to its fur and blue shirt. It does, however, seem rather irritated with him for falling on top of it. Its eyes narrow at him, and the cymbal-hands clang together, issuing a jarring chime that makes Roe wish that his sense of hearing had been affected by his transformation.
"Excuse you, are you not capable of watching where you're going? " But after listening to him repeat his apology for a second time, the monkey seems to calm down, lowering its paws and rocking from side to side on its feet as if calming itself. "I guess you can call me Monkey. Not very original I'm sure, but it's what the monster girl who takes us out of here to toss around for awhile seems to call me. What's your name, and how did you get here? Not intentionally, I hope. Most of us that are stuck in here aren't in such good shape, and you look the sort that's going to be played with a lot. I'm lucky so far in that she doesn't seem to like playing with me much, so I usually get passed over. " Yronwood sits back on his haunches, taking in all this sudden info, before realizing that Monkey is still waiting for a reply. "Oh, uh, I'm Yronwood, Roe for short. And I have no idea how I got here, or why. " He looks upward briefly, noticing that what light they do have is definitely coming from there, a small hole located at one end of the box lid. "You've been out of this box then? What's out there? " "The simian toy wrinkles its nose. "Outside of here is her room. Not a place you want to get out into, unless you're crazy. At least in here, there's places to hide. Out there, well.....toys are at her mercy. " Roe listens intently, feeling more and more uneasy as he does so.
He appreciates Monkey's warnings, but he can't bring himself to heed them. "I need to get out of here, I need to get back home. My sister needs me. Maybe if I can get out into her room, whoever she is and if she is as dangerous as you say, I can find a way from there back to Beqanna, my home. Is there any way that you think you could help me get out of here, please? I'm willing to take my chances out there. " The cymbal-monkey shakes its head slowly at first, clearly thinking him insane, but eventually sighs and agrees. It looks up towards the roof of the box, judging the distance, and Yronwood follows its gaze. "Nope. Not going to work. Go and find something for me to get up on, something with some height to it. And preferably something that won't object to being stood upon, heh. " Obediently, the tiny plastic horse trots off, being very careful to avoid stepping on or brushing against anything else. Spotting the stuffed dog still lurking nearby, eying him grumpily, was just a further reminder not to agitate the locals further. It's harder than he would like to pull off in the semi-darkness, and it's not until he is nearly upon them (and with having barely avoided a close encounter with a large green plastic T-rex that is missing one of its stubby arms!) that he at last spies something that might work. He pushes them back to the waiting Monkey one at a time, a set of wooden building blocks that he is told have not been played with for many years by the girl.
He tries, but is unable to grip some of the blocks to place them upon the others to form a platform with his mouth, but Monkey is able to instruct him how to make quick "grab and drops" by using his front feet to grip, followed by a fast rearing motion directly in front of the blocks' base level, then pushing the second layer fully into position with his nose. The brown-furred toy insists that he leave one block uncovered as a sort of stepladder, and then waddles its way up onto the second level. He is then instructed to help lay Monkey on its side, so that it can attempt to give him a boost upwards with one of its cymbals. Just standing on it and being lifted doesn't seem to get him all the way up to the toy box's lid, so they decide to try another tactic. He moves off to the edge of the block-platform, then rushes towards the simian as fast as his unfamiliar feet can manage. Leaping up into the air, he lands upon the cymbol, trying to use it as a springboard. He is pushed upwards higher by his own momentum and Monkey's upward shove. Yronwood manages somehow to have his front feet be ahead of him as he hits the edge of the lid, and the twin projectiles manage to lift the top. Just enough for the colt to find himself stuck between it and the lower edge. An area even bigger than the private world of the toy box greets his eyes, and he lets himself hang them for a moment as he surveys it, all four legs dangling rather comically. He is afraid to angle himself enough to get his head back inside to call out a thank you, lest he topple back down inside it, but he hopes that the frantic swishing of his green-striped tail will convey his gratitude to the cymbal-monkey left below in the pale light. Grunting and wriggling vigorously, Roe eventually free-falls to the carpet waiting below, landing with a further grunt. The wind is knocked out of him, and he lies there for several moments, breathing deeply until he regains it. Climbing to his plastic feet, he stands there, feeling incredibly small. Now, how to find a way back to Beqanna from here? Despite his hope, he has no real idea of what his next move should be.