11-02-2021, 08:10 PM
From one step to the next, her opossum body falls away with a clatter of candy still tucked away in her pouch.
Ah dangit.
The yearling flicks her ears in dismay, picking at the candies with her lips, but the feeling is short-lived because the other partygoers are gathering 'round the Great Pumpkin with his bag of toys, and she's quick to join them, her large hooves thudding dully against Pangea's sandy earth. The girl wearing the ears is gone. Several others are gone and suddenly it occurs to Beechbone that maybe there had been legitimate danger out there. The thought makes her nervous. She had laughed her way through it all without ever realizing that she could be badly injured or killed. The bruises around her neck from the snow-ape's gnarled hands make her throat feel thick, but she snorts harshly, chasing the feelings away.
There's no sense dwelling on it. The weight of her black wings brings her comfort and she stretches them carefully, shaking out the feathers and resettling the limbs so the long shining flight feathers cross against her golden-brown back. There was something to be said for that other shape, there was a freedom in not needing to be so mindful of her strength, but it's like coming home to be herself once again, she offers Jack a droll smile.
"Trick," she says, with a shrug and a laugh, leaving a second brightly-wrapped candy in Jack's claw as she takes the black box. Perhaps she has not learned her lesson after all.
Ah dangit.
The yearling flicks her ears in dismay, picking at the candies with her lips, but the feeling is short-lived because the other partygoers are gathering 'round the Great Pumpkin with his bag of toys, and she's quick to join them, her large hooves thudding dully against Pangea's sandy earth. The girl wearing the ears is gone. Several others are gone and suddenly it occurs to Beechbone that maybe there had been legitimate danger out there. The thought makes her nervous. She had laughed her way through it all without ever realizing that she could be badly injured or killed. The bruises around her neck from the snow-ape's gnarled hands make her throat feel thick, but she snorts harshly, chasing the feelings away.
There's no sense dwelling on it. The weight of her black wings brings her comfort and she stretches them carefully, shaking out the feathers and resettling the limbs so the long shining flight feathers cross against her golden-brown back. There was something to be said for that other shape, there was a freedom in not needing to be so mindful of her strength, but it's like coming home to be herself once again, she offers Jack a droll smile.
"Trick," she says, with a shrug and a laugh, leaving a second brightly-wrapped candy in Jack's claw as she takes the black box. Perhaps she has not learned her lesson after all.
Beechbone
Have you come to sing pumpkin carols?