As Heathen touched the harness and all its ancient, tattered pouches, the desert around them seemed to twist and change. The light shifted, suddenly the thick gold of late afternoon, and the cave ceiling above seemed far closer, now.
They--no, the creature they observed, low to the ground and with pebbled, dark grey hide--crept across the top of a plateau. Now and then it sank close to the rock, waiting, as an Eyehook glided close by overhead. This was the very top of the Crucible: the flat areas, with almost no cover, where the vultures roosted. Great, tangled nests lay scattered about the mesa's top. Some were abandoned, others rife with raucous bird calls, but all were deadly to approach.
Still, this creature seemed not only intent upon it but familiar with doing so. Its hide shifted color and pattern to match the ground below as it began to move again, unseen, snaking its way with the soft scrape of claws toward the nearest nest.
A nest full of shed feathers, and the bones of old prey... some of which still held gemstones anchored in their bleached surfaces.
So that was where it got its things...
Hydra returned slowly, the light brighter and the ceiling far higher up above. The Eyehook roosts were not far from here, up the winding, narrow paths that led to the tops of the Crucible's spires, but to venture out there--among the Eyehooks and their brood--was a potentially deadly risk.
@Heathen
"Good for you." Fleas grumbled sarcastically. Was that a brag? "Wait, how haven't you died? Do you know how dangerous these caves are? I got eaten alive by rats when I hatched!" She spat out. Then, watching The Piano twirl, she figured it was the dying causing-er rather than the die-ee. "Why would I...agree?" Fleas said, stumbling to a stop. It took the jackal a few moments to reboot.
"I, uh, hmm. I've been kinda banking on figuring it out as I go, yknow? I was thinking it'd just hit me as I find magic items. Not literally hit me. I hope nothing literally hits me." Her eyes darted about fearfully. And I don't really care, so long as he has the ability to make good on his promises. Which he can." Fleas said.
She grimaced at the stones rolled towards her. "T'be honest, I um, m'not really sure what to do with all these stones. Theres kids in there, and like hell I'm lettin the merchant kill 'em! Im keepin those too, I guess. Just gotta think of somewhere to keep em safe. Fleas grumbled, getting lost in her own thoughts. That was swiftly interrupted by the dropping of something large and red at her feet. Her ears pinned and she leapt back at the hunk of meat the leopard dropped and--oh. It was a stone. Not a threat. A gift. Fleas cleared her throat.
"Hah, yeah, thanks," Fleas said. She blinked down at the stone. What was she supposed to do with a magicless stone? It was kind of pretty now that she knew it wasnt a threat. But she didn't really collect stuff. Wait, did they think she was the stone guy now? Were people just gonna start handing her stones?
It was better than being attacked, she supposed. She picked it up with her teeth, settling it between her wings with the rest of the junk she'd picked up. "Somethin electric, huh? I s'pose I got kind of a link to that too, I get it. Kinda makes me itch when I use it, though. I'unno what the merchant can do really--I just get a feeling he's powerful, yeah? Gotta be to chrysalize a buncha gembound without breaking a sweat. Hell, I bet he'd be able to make you shit stormclouds and belch rainbows if y'asked."
The mental image made her slightly less scared of her compatriots. Slightly. And then the worry that her crass words would anger them, that they would see it as mocking, wormed its way into the back of her mind. "Hah!" She barked nervously. "Bet theres more useful stuff--gonna look some more down here!" Fleas stuck her head into the first crevice she saw, desperate to look anywhere other than at Heathen and the Piano.
Fleas shook her head to rid it of the uncomfortable ping of magicka. Surrounded by stone walls, it was not the best instinct she had. Dull thuds sounded as she slammed her head into the side of the wall full speed. Fleas swore under her breath about "the damn rocks", replacing her head with a paw to scrape out whatever she found. She pawed at her bruising head tenderly, grumbling all the while.
"I'unno about yall, but I think I'm just about done here, yeah? Might find a nice spot to hide m'rocks and take that spear and some other junk back t'that merchant guy." She dipped her head again and let out another low buzz.
Fleas took note of the things she'd scraped out, and gave a wary glance about. Seeing as Heathen and Piano seemed unlikely to attack and kill her instantly, she turned her nose up at the sky. "Last time I remember there a were bunch 'a flying vultures up there. Hated them. Looked at me and I nearly left my own damn hide behind tryin to flee. Seems quiet, though. Haven't seen a soul. Merchant really must've done somethin." Fleas mumbled a little lower than a speaking voice, talking more to herself than anything.
@The Piano ((hold on tho gm tagging for fleas' murder)
Precisely at the end of Fleas' sentence, and ironically with 'it seems quiet' still fresh in the Gembounds' minds, a naked vulture-like head of a creature far too large to just be called a 'vulture' popped over the mesa's edge.
Six mismatched, glowing red eyes stared down at her for a long moment, and then they blinked.
Then, the Eyehook screamed.
"SCRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWW!"
An answering chorus welled up like a storm from the tops of the plateaus, dozens of Eyehooks sounding the alarm.
@Fleas
The Piano had not intended for its words to come off as bragging, and it did not quite know how to react to Fleas's grumbled
good for you. She did not seem... pleased...? by its words? Truly, the thoughts of furred creatures were a mystery.
"Rats!" it exclaimed with some surprise at Fleas's next question.
"That must have been unpleasant. I am... sorry you went through that." Was it? It didn't think
it was the one that should feel sorry--the rats were--but it seemed like an appropriate thing to say?
Its keys clacked, as did the items it found (the cup appeared to hold no offensive or defensive magic, sadly, but it stashed it and the olivine inside itself anyway), as it considered.
"Perhaps I have not been quite so unlucky, but I have not encountered so many lethal dangers. Or maybe they are simply less lethal to me. I am rather inedible." Just one of the many advantages of its beautiful form.
As for her comments about stormclouds and rainbows... the Piano responded with a dignified silence. It gave Heathen the same treatment (its name was not
strings, thank you very much), and watched as the jackal kept searching and talking with a sort of nervous energy. It wondered how she kept this up. Maybe it was the desert heat, but it was starting to feel tired of all this-- work, and interaction. It wanted to go back to Cepheus and play a few sonatas in the lovely peaceful rooms.
It made a soft hum of agreement as Fleas suggested heading back, only for its dreams of peaceful music to be violently interrupted by a discordant screech.
How inharmonious, it thought with rising anger. The sound hurt its auditory processing organs of unspecified name and location. With a rather more violent motion than necessary, it propped its lid fully open and returned a furious roar of its own, hammers hitting strings and dampers lifted to create a crashing soundwave that rang off the canyon walls.
Oh, and there might have been some mafia magic in there as well. As a garnish.
@Heathen
Fleas' could only stare in horror as the universe proved her wrong. Her wide, terrified eyes met the eyehook's reds. It was just her luck. As the vulture screamed, she answered it with one of her own. A high pitched, terrified, yodel.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIEG!"
Her body told her she needed to move, but her mind was terror and red eyes on repeat. Through that haze she managed to shake life into her limbs, more instinct moving her than anything. She stumbled aimlessly before bolting off in a random direction, gemstones all but forgotten.
The majority of the Eyehooks that came pouring over the edge like a particularly smelly waterfall went spiralling right back up again at the horrific cacophony provided by the Piano. A few less cowardly went in pursuit of meaningless whispers, though the majority were now circling above the creatures they could see: a fleeing canine and a... big piece of wood?
Heathen was camouflaged well enough; The Piano didn't look like prey. That left those Eyehooks that weren't chasing ghost sounds or recoiling from a very bad symphony to give chase to Fleas, though even so, the clanging and power-infused intimidation kept them at bay... for now.
@The Piano
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