ORIGIN - Baby Bear

Sergei had found the mouth of this tunnel quite by accident. He was wandering restlessly--Maeve had shown him how to fish (a very strange thing for a small horse to do), but something in him told him that the stagnant water was not the best feeding ground. Instinct drove him to seek better.

He was little more than a tough, fat ball of brown fur, at the moment, with small, dark eyes peering out ahead. His shuffling gait was slow, his snuffling loud, and he was barely keeping himself from whimpering.

This cave was scary. The mist was thick, and there was a feeling like... it was wrong. Like he shouldn't be here.

Rather than call out for help, though, (the little bear was made from tougher stuff than that) Sergei pushed on. A soft bleat sort of noise did escape him once or twice, quite by accident--he certainly wasn't afraid of this place.

Well... maybe a little.

Want out, he thought, his beady eyes warily picking at the darkness ahead. Paws shuffled over stone. His stomach rumbled, and his mind amended its wishes: Want food.

OF WISPS AND WHISPERS

DEEP IN THE DARK WANDERING WITH FEAR / DON'T LET THEM TAKE ME AWAY FROM HERE

The mist in the tunnel thickened and darkened, like shadows gripping around the bear cub, hungry; the lights flickered and dimmed, but did not go completely out. Instead, an awful, churning hum buzzed through them, as if they were straining to stay lit despite the darkness encroaching on the small Gembound. In other parts of the tunnel, the lights did fail and the shadows there engulfed whatever ambient light might reach them—from those patches, small, erratic purple wisps materialized and gave off subtle glows. They seemed to stay clustered to the deep shadows for now.

In the faint, fading light where the bear cub stood, a sudden breeze carried whispers to his ears. But they were too many, too scrambled, and all echoing each other. It was impossible to determine what they were saying.

@Sergei

As the mist began to thicken, Sergei turned to and fro rapidly. The mist is hungry, too... Tiny brown eyes sprang perfectly round in fear, which quickly deepened to terror as the lights began to hum and dim.

He started first one way, then another, stopped each time by the patches of black with the eerie violet wisps lighting them. A cry of fright escaped him--a bleating call, every baby's begging for its mother. But Sergei's mother was a stone, and the stone did not come running.

When the whispers began, sheer fear overtook him.

Sergei bolted forward, his shoulder slamming off a protruding part of the tunnel wall--spinning him around, staggering. He ran again, and this time skidded right into the tunnel, tumbling along the floor as he whimpered.

He scrambled to stand again, claws scrabbling desperately at the rock.

He was just a baby. He was alone, and he was afraid, and the darkness was closing in.

@Game Master CJ

Artume did not like Tunnel K.

It was eerie and creepy, setting her on edge. But she could not simply abandon any hatching Gemlings because she was scared - in fact, that gave her even more incentive to go into the tunnel. No one deserved to be left alone, to be abandoned scared.

She could tell there was another Gembound in there, hear their gait and their snuffling. So she followed it, not wanting to call out quite yet.

And then, of course, the lights began to go out. Her head rose, ears twitching. Shadows seemed to cling to her, and she shivered at an awful buzzing, balking. But, no, that Gembound sounded young. She couldn't abandon them.

It didn't take her long to find the cub, its crying drawing her. She seemed to melt from the shadows, head high and eyes soft. "Easy little one," she crooned, lowering her head to press her muzzle against his side. "Follow me, I won't let you be hurt."

@Sergei

Nemophilist (n.):

a haunter of the woods;one who loves the forestand its beauty and solitude

OF WISPS AND WHISPERS

DEEP IN THE DARK WANDERING WITH FEAR / DON'T LET THEM TAKE ME AWAY FROM HERE

The shadows seemed to shift, toying with one's senses and playing with their fear- but whatever lay there, buried in the dark, always seemed to dance out of the way of searching eyes. But, was there anything there to begin with? Or was it only the imagination making shapes out of shadows in the dark and the dancing lights? They clustered, gathering tight around the approaching deer, whose pelt was so dark they seemed to seek refuge close to her with cloying tendrils. The air was growing thicker, almost; the breaths of the two creatures now echoed, as though they'd been enclosed in a solid mass. Artume's words were thrown back at her as though they were alone in an empty room.

The voices- or voice, as it seemed as it grew louder- were numerous, but they were all the same. They had their origins on only one tongue. They were a raucous rabble, but it didn't seem that they were conversing- it was more like hearing the hubbub of a busy festival, all disjointed. The voices grew more frantic with every moment, more voices joining the unearthly chorus.

Until finally, the darkness was all-consuming, the flickering wisps almost within reach, so close to being tangible...

And yet... piece by piece, syllable by syllable, the two Gembounds might be able to put something together that was barely legible. Broken and stuttering, syllables torn apart and pieced back together out of order, re-enunciated in a different tone each time, the voice asked a single thing.

"Don't... Let th...em... Ta....ke me... Please...."

@Sergei @Artume

The bear cub saw, quite suddenly, a dark shape approaching, lowering its head, its pelt dancing with the darkness. He squealed in terror, and--instinct driving him--swiped a clumsy paw for the approaching face. He felt claws rake something, though whether it was flesh or stone or hoof or antler he couldn't say. He cowered back and then ran for it, oblivious to the deer's gentle words, the panic of "darkness" and "approaching black thing" driving him into mindless fear. His heart raced, and he tumbled headfirst into the deepest shadows.

As the voice's whispers coalesced, his heaving pants, almost sobs, turned into desperate, high-pitched squalls. He careened off another stone wall, and then tumbled over the rock, scrambling again back up, his wide eyes finding no purchase here in the pitch-black.

The wisps seemed to dance all around him--everywhere--and he spun, this way and that, no longer sure where was "out" and where he'd come from.

Too terrified to stand still, he broke into a full run once more--heading (though he didn't know it) vaguely toward Orion in his blind flight.

@Artume

He felt his paw strike something--whether it was flesh or bone or rock he had no idea--and he bolted with another squalling cry, his shambling gallop remarkably fast.

He quickly left the tunnel behind him--the darkness, the whispers, the ghostly sounds and lights--and ran blindly toward unknown lands.

The baby bear wanted nothing to do with this.

;exit due to inactivity