ORIGIN

Full Version: Striking out... kind of

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Skeena was starting to get a headache, but she couldn't rest.

She still had to retrieve the skull and the femur, so she made her way back out of her catacombs, and headed back to where she had left the two bones.

The skull was grabbed first and, after a moment, was slid over her back. She would have worn it as a helmet, but it was too big. It was heavy, though, and so it took her some time to drag it back to her catacombs.

But, finally, she made her way back, and took it to the same offshoot that held the ribcage. A quick flare of magic, and it had a bedding of fungi to rest on.

The hybrid wanted to get this finished, and so scurried back out, and made her way back to the femur. This one was much harder, as she had to, very carefully, take a grip on it. If she gripped it too hard, her claws might mark it, or it might crumble. If she didn't grip it hard enough, she wouldn't be able to pull it.

It took her well over an hour to bring the femur back to her catacombs, and she had to stop and take a break before the entrance. Her joints were screaming, and her muscles ached. But she forced herself to continue her work, and she hauled the femur to the designated offshoot.

Skeena panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth as she allowed herself a moment of rest. Looking around, she reached for her magic, blooming a big enough patch of mushrooms for the femur to lay on. Using her shoulder, she shoved the femur into place, before scrambling over it.

Stumbling, she made her way back to her sleeping-hole, collapsing into a heap with a grumbling groan. No more big bones, she swore. Definitely no more big bones. And if she did find a big bone, it had to be hollow.

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