ORIGIN

Bouncing from perch to perch with a flap of their wings, the harpy is clearly searching for... something. Several cycles of watching the various deer around the caves, and they'd never seen anything like these ones before.

Seemingly suited for the billowing, frozen plains of Ursa, horns like branches and dun colors, and a piercing call that caught their attention instantly, the herder... or, wanna-be herder, made a decision.

I'll find one that is strong- independent, and sturdy- and it can help me run the herds. They're larger than the other breeds, excepting the ones that look like furry boulders in the plains, and look no-where as territorial. Maybe I can ride one.


"When I speak"
When I think

There. A small herd- and what seems like a number of large adults. They mentally target one that seems to stand out - snout and eyes white like it had been caught with it's face in the snow drifts, and the powder had simply never melted. Cute, really.

So, to keep this one with them... Renasci reaches for magic that feels newer, almost more neutral. Like something meant to be shared- a give and take.

A deep, bracing breath, and holding tight to that magic, they cast it out- but not like a net, no. More like an open hand, to grab onto another and pull them after and show them something grand.



"When I speak"
When I think

The magic goes flat.

Well, that won't do. Come on, I don't want to hurt you... They plead silently, eyeing the wary herd with the same amount of caution.

Let's try again- maybe less grasping, and more like an open palm full of food...?

The harpy reaches out, now slightly more hesitant than before.

"When I speak"
When I think