10-07-2021, 07:53 PM
Sickle has been no stranger to fire - first the lava rivers of her home, the blue flames of her companion, and now the occasional flare up from where she knows Fyr practices his skills. This seemed different, though, and the roaring and loud noises didn’t help. She hasn’t felt afraid often in the Pampas, just homesick, but she feels it now as she wakes with a start from her nap beneath the wildflowers. She shifts into a dragonfly to scope things out, flying up enough to see a griffin facing off with Aela, and then ducking (forgetting what shape she is in) when a second griffin flies in to fight the now-dragon while the wildflowers and grasses around them burn.
Her eyes are wide when she returns to the shape of a fox, trembling next to her companion. She was supposed to stay out of sight when strangers came around, just in case any of them were her dad. And the angry noises definitely sound like something that might happen while her dad is around.
She hears her name being bellowed in a female voice that she recognizes but can’t place. She doesn’t think it’s Wishbone, but she’s never heard her mom yell like that. And just as she’s wondering this, Aela calls out for her.
Hope so easily wins over caution.
Sickle’s fox-head pops out among the sea of wildflowers and flickers between that shape and a half dozen others with her nerves. She takes flight as a dark blue phoenix while her companion sticks close, and together the pair approach.
It doesn’t take long to figure out something is wrong. “That’s not my mom.” Sickle’s disappointment is obvious and she flinches away from how the white dragon hisses at these words. She recognizes the colouring as the mare who had fought with her dad in Hyaline, but that only confuses her more. This was a friend of her mom but nothing about the aggravation makes her think this shifter is an ally anymore.
Though she is also a little afraid of Aela, her blue-and-orange gaze gravitates to the palomino, desperate for answers, and she sticks close to her while hovering in the air - orange fire and deep black bleeding into the dark blue flames of her feathers as it reflects the inferno and charred land around them.
Her eyes are wide when she returns to the shape of a fox, trembling next to her companion. She was supposed to stay out of sight when strangers came around, just in case any of them were her dad. And the angry noises definitely sound like something that might happen while her dad is around.
She hears her name being bellowed in a female voice that she recognizes but can’t place. She doesn’t think it’s Wishbone, but she’s never heard her mom yell like that. And just as she’s wondering this, Aela calls out for her.
Hope so easily wins over caution.
Sickle’s fox-head pops out among the sea of wildflowers and flickers between that shape and a half dozen others with her nerves. She takes flight as a dark blue phoenix while her companion sticks close, and together the pair approach.
It doesn’t take long to figure out something is wrong. “That’s not my mom.” Sickle’s disappointment is obvious and she flinches away from how the white dragon hisses at these words. She recognizes the colouring as the mare who had fought with her dad in Hyaline, but that only confuses her more. This was a friend of her mom but nothing about the aggravation makes her think this shifter is an ally anymore.
Though she is also a little afraid of Aela, her blue-and-orange gaze gravitates to the palomino, desperate for answers, and she sticks close to her while hovering in the air - orange fire and deep black bleeding into the dark blue flames of her feathers as it reflects the inferno and charred land around them.
@Skandar