The little owl had made her home among the familiar smells in the den that her best friend had made. There was a small pile of dangerous, sharp little quillmouse quills (she loved the taste of quillmice, though she wasn't strong enough to hunt them on her own yet) and a pile of her own fluff that she collected in another corner, along with dried nesting plant material-- that was where they slept. There was also the piece of her chrysalis that they kept-- a concave chunk of amber that filled their room with orange light if they put it by the door when it was bright out.
When Quentin was out hunting, she was to keep to herself in the small, cozy den and rest. It had been several light-dark cycles that she had learned were called 'days', and her wing was starting to recover a little. Her wound was still a big, nasty open sore, not quite scabbed over, but blessedly her wing had not been broken, just injured in her fall.
Plus, with her fluff falling out, she was starting to get real feathers. Neither of them knew when she would be able to fly, but each and every day she checked her wings for signs of longer feathers. Quentin had brought her back an eyehook vulture feather he had found on the floor, and she compared her own fledgling feathers to them almost constantly.
Suffice to say, the little owl was starting to get braver and braver. Which meant when Quentin went out hunting, she would creep toward the entrance of the cave, until she could stare up at the distant blinding light in the sky, up the winding sheer cliffs of the Crucible. She loved it here; she loved the way the wind swept through and blustered just outside of the den, providing a busy noise that helped her sleep even when her thoughts wouldn't quiet in her head.
Today, she sat at the front of the den, head turning this way and that, wondering what adventures Quentin was getting up to. She liked imagining flying around the towering cliffs, though her friend warned her about the eyehook vultures. Hopefully her gemstone would protect her eyes from getting snatched out if she ever encountered one; those stories scared her. Not so much that she didn't dream of reaching the tippy top of the Crucible. What was at the top? Would she ever know?
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Nov 23 2019, 08:45 PM
Nov 23 2019, 09:19 PM
Quentin really didn't like being out alone ever since he'd begun to share his den with his owl friend. Sure, he'd been fine with it beforehand- he'd met her alone- but after even nearly five minutes of being with her, he just never wanted to leave. He didn't even know he could trust someone like he'd begun to now.
But, they had to eat. With her injured, Quentin took it upon himself to hunt for the two of them. A particular favorite of his tended to be the quillmice; they were small enough to hunt, and he got a satisfaction out of using the quills he'd gathered from previous hunts to jump and reach them without endangering himself on freshly poisoned points. Thus, the pile in the den and the batch he'd held in his mouth as he traveled along the faint stream their home laid near. It was alluring, yes- but with Quentin about, no creature would be able to escape his hunting prowess! At least, when it was good. There were definitely the days when they had to feast on scraps left by vultures, the little fox breaking bones to reveal the delicious marrow within for his owl bud. Her feeding took his main priority in those times. He was fine, but her? She needed to heal and rest, and you can't rest on an empty stomach!
So, here he was, returning with a fresh quillmouse, dragging it alongside his body with a point of its brethren sticking out from from its throat. It was a little bit of struggle to get it down, yes; but with this they could eat for at least a few days! He just had to make it home without danger looming over his shoulder.
And home was close. He could see its tell-tale crack in the side of the cliff, underneath the overhang he'd have to squeeze under. Was that- Squinting, he could barely make out the form of Mirage, picking her out from her gem across her eyes. A happy, quiet squeak let out of Quentin as he picked up the pace. She was waiting for him! Dark tail-tip held high, Quentin rounded closer, keeping a hard grip on the mouse's flesh while extra careful not to prick himself with its quills. Just a few more moments and they'd be reunited once more!
But, they had to eat. With her injured, Quentin took it upon himself to hunt for the two of them. A particular favorite of his tended to be the quillmice; they were small enough to hunt, and he got a satisfaction out of using the quills he'd gathered from previous hunts to jump and reach them without endangering himself on freshly poisoned points. Thus, the pile in the den and the batch he'd held in his mouth as he traveled along the faint stream their home laid near. It was alluring, yes- but with Quentin about, no creature would be able to escape his hunting prowess! At least, when it was good. There were definitely the days when they had to feast on scraps left by vultures, the little fox breaking bones to reveal the delicious marrow within for his owl bud. Her feeding took his main priority in those times. He was fine, but her? She needed to heal and rest, and you can't rest on an empty stomach!
So, here he was, returning with a fresh quillmouse, dragging it alongside his body with a point of its brethren sticking out from from its throat. It was a little bit of struggle to get it down, yes; but with this they could eat for at least a few days! He just had to make it home without danger looming over his shoulder.
And home was close. He could see its tell-tale crack in the side of the cliff, underneath the overhang he'd have to squeeze under. Was that- Squinting, he could barely make out the form of Mirage, picking her out from her gem across her eyes. A happy, quiet squeak let out of Quentin as he picked up the pace. She was waiting for him! Dark tail-tip held high, Quentin rounded closer, keeping a hard grip on the mouse's flesh while extra careful not to prick himself with its quills. Just a few more moments and they'd be reunited once more!
@Mirage
Nov 23 2019, 10:18 PM
Many creatures seek shelter from the day's relentless heat down in the canyon shadows, but living in the Crucible does not come without risk...
It starts as a tremble beneath their feet, growing stronger and stronger until the steady roaring of water echoing throughout the Crucible becomes almost deafening. Rushing streams began to pour down from the canyon walls around them. Mirage and Quentin will notice the water quickly swelling at their feet. They must reach higher ground or risk being swept away by a rising flash flood.
@Mirage @QuentinIt starts as a tremble beneath their feet, growing stronger and stronger until the steady roaring of water echoing throughout the Crucible becomes almost deafening. Rushing streams began to pour down from the canyon walls around them. Mirage and Quentin will notice the water quickly swelling at their feet. They must reach higher ground or risk being swept away by a rising flash flood.
Nov 23 2019, 11:54 PM
"Quentin!" The owl chirped when she heard his yip, tilting her head up so that the glint of the Hydra's harsh light wasn't catching on the gem that shielded her eyes. "You're back--" she jumped forward to celebrate, mouth already watering at the quillmouse she saw in his jaws. She didn't have much time to celebrate, however, as suddenly the world began to shake.
The fennec fox had warned her about the flash floods. The cliffs would pour water, dry stone turned to waterfalls, and it would sweep them away. But she remembered that they had a few paths up to higher ground where they would be safer, and she looked this way and that, feathers fluffing up. "Quick," she squeaked, pointing her beak toward little ledges that lead upward.
They had practiced this, just in case. All the practice wasn't anything like the real deal, though. She stumbled a little as she hopped over to her friend as the water had begun to reach their feet and make everything dangerously slippery. She knew that Quentin would urge her to go first, so she lead the way up the path in quick, tiny hops. At least it was drier the higher she went up, even as water crashed down only a few tail lengths way.
Nov 24 2019, 12:24 AM
Oh.
Oh no.
That wasn't good. Suddenly, Quentin's senses were completely and thoroughly overwhelmed, his eyes going as wide as saucers at the rumblings beneath his feet. That wasn't good.
He didn't know if he was urging Mirage or himself. Either way, it worked; picking up his feet, Quentin avoided clenching his eyes shut to throw his body forward and up as fast as he could to catch up. The mouse though- He had to lose it, but it'd take a while to get more food again! A half hiss rose in the back of his throat as he drove his teeth harder into the soft flesh of his prey. No- he'd hold on for as long as he could! Steeling his will, Quentin took a final bound up towards the trail, paws wide to grab and latch on to a ledge in sight.
It was too late. The water had already come crashing down, slamming straight into Quentin's side. A shrill shriek rang out of his mouth as his claws missed their mark. Oh no, no, no, no- The single word rang through his mind as dirt passed by in front of him, slipping away in the rising water. Already the mouse had been lost to the waves. Please- I can't go too! The plead was lost on deaf ears.
@Game Master Pluto
Nov 24 2019, 07:27 PM
The stone around Quentin is slick and the current grows stronger by the second. Soon, the silty, foul-tasting water whisks him away down stream through a winding canyon pass. The flash flood is becoming more dangerous as the picks up speed, rolling in and under itself. It threatens to pull Quentin under and slam him into the rocks, possibly breaking something or drown him.
Quentin can attempt to save himself or stay afloat and ride it down stream. Any failure will result Quentin getting sucked under by a strong current and getting thrown against the canyon sides, injuring the litte fox. A critical failure will result in a serious injury that could threaten his life.
Mirage may attempt to catch up with Quentin so she can rescue him, however, the ledges are wet and slippery and power streams of water cascades down its sides. Any failure will result in her failing in with him.
@Mirage @QuentinQuentin can attempt to save himself or stay afloat and ride it down stream. Any failure will result Quentin getting sucked under by a strong current and getting thrown against the canyon sides, injuring the litte fox. A critical failure will result in a serious injury that could threaten his life.
Mirage may attempt to catch up with Quentin so she can rescue him, however, the ledges are wet and slippery and power streams of water cascades down its sides. Any failure will result in her failing in with him.
Nov 24 2019, 11:16 PM
As if there was any question what Mirage would do. She heard her name called out, and immediately she scrambled to the edge of her ledge, hopping down to another path so she could give chase.
"Quentin!" She cried over the rushing water, keeping a sharp eye out for a ledge that was low enough he could grab so she could call it out.
Then, up ahead, she spotted it-- a root to a strange, hardy plant that grew like a tenacious vine in the crags. She scrambled, rushing as quickly as she could, somehow pulling ahead of Quentin as he scrambled for purchase against the stone and fought the rushing water.
"GRAB HOLD!" She squawked in advance, digging her talons into the stone was water crashed around her and nearly drowned out her tiny voice. She grabbed the most loose part of the root with her beak and tugged it out into the water, finding it resisted her pull-- the vine was strong, and clung fiercely to the crack it was embedded in. Just in time for Quentin to be swept close to it.
@Quentin
"Quentin!" She cried over the rushing water, keeping a sharp eye out for a ledge that was low enough he could grab so she could call it out.
Then, up ahead, she spotted it-- a root to a strange, hardy plant that grew like a tenacious vine in the crags. She scrambled, rushing as quickly as she could, somehow pulling ahead of Quentin as he scrambled for purchase against the stone and fought the rushing water.
"GRAB HOLD!" She squawked in advance, digging her talons into the stone was water crashed around her and nearly drowned out her tiny voice. She grabbed the most loose part of the root with her beak and tugged it out into the water, finding it resisted her pull-- the vine was strong, and clung fiercely to the crack it was embedded in. Just in time for Quentin to be swept close to it.
@Quentin
Nov 24 2019, 11:36 PM
In the brief moments as he was being swept away, panic flushed through Quentin to be replaced by a sick seriousness that simultaneously dulled and heightened his senses to new degrees. Adrenaline had begun to take hold, his muscles twitching fast as his long, untrimmed nails began to dig in the muddy sand flaking away off the cliff.
But- Mirage, she was getting closer. Despite his focus on saving himself, seeing his owl friend brought her to the absolute forefront of his mind. Despite his danger, despite everything, he dug deep and willed out a second shout, a warning-"Stay back! The water-" A thrash from the raging rapids in question shoved him against the canyon wall, pushing all the air from his tiny little body. He had to get a grip- he had to focus!
Her voice cut through the rushing water swirling about his mind, pulling him from the depths that threatened him. What kind of friend would he be if he left her alone like this? Panting hard, he twisted his body in the rapids (while still trying his best to keep himself slowed down by dragging along the wall), frantic eyes darting this way and that- There! She'd come through! He just had to kick towards it-
Closing his eyes in a flash of fear and blind trust, Quentin's mouth went wide as he pushed off the wall directing himself towards the vine she'd extended out for him. It wasn't enough- the fear getting to his head surged into his trembling body, a wave of water crashing down on him as he neared the vine. All at once, his face mashed into the side, followed straight by his chest. It was too much- he missed his mark, only to be swept away further."Get up! I-" Another oof out of him as he was bashed against the cliffside- "I'll make it! Don't worry about me! Get safe!"
He was putting a bit too much trust in himself. But, now, he had kicked himself too far away from the cliff. Running off the pure adrenaline, Quentin splayed out his limbs and batted at the water, flailing miserably to stay afloat. Stay calm! It's not like he ever had the chance to learn how to swim. Panic took over his expression. Ears pinned, eyes wide, Quentin just had to survive these next few moments.
But- Mirage, she was getting closer. Despite his focus on saving himself, seeing his owl friend brought her to the absolute forefront of his mind. Despite his danger, despite everything, he dug deep and willed out a second shout, a warning-
Her voice cut through the rushing water swirling about his mind, pulling him from the depths that threatened him. What kind of friend would he be if he left her alone like this? Panting hard, he twisted his body in the rapids (while still trying his best to keep himself slowed down by dragging along the wall), frantic eyes darting this way and that- There! She'd come through! He just had to kick towards it-
Closing his eyes in a flash of fear and blind trust, Quentin's mouth went wide as he pushed off the wall directing himself towards the vine she'd extended out for him. It wasn't enough- the fear getting to his head surged into his trembling body, a wave of water crashing down on him as he neared the vine. All at once, his face mashed into the side, followed straight by his chest. It was too much- he missed his mark, only to be swept away further.
He was putting a bit too much trust in himself. But, now, he had kicked himself too far away from the cliff. Running off the pure adrenaline, Quentin splayed out his limbs and batted at the water, flailing miserably to stay afloat. Stay calm! It's not like he ever had the chance to learn how to swim. Panic took over his expression. Ears pinned, eyes wide, Quentin just had to survive these next few moments.
@Game Master Pluto
Nov 30 2019, 08:57 PM
Strong currents pull Quentin under and pommel him against the sides. To Mirage, Quentin has disappeared beneath the waves. The silty brown water obscures any sign of him. Quentin is swept down the winding narrow ravine in a torrent of chaos. The rocks scrap his skin raw and few good smacks were bound to leave some marks.
Then, just as soon as the flood came, it went. The cascades became reduced to trickles down the canyon walls. No longer fed by forceful currents, the churning waters lessen into leisurely streams that slowly drain into the Crucible's smaller, underground pockets. In the heat, he remaining water should turn to wet clay, then dry out completely in the course one day. Quentin will find himself farther down the Crucible, closer to the Dead Marsh, and feeling rather sore.
Even though it was so short, he was lucky to have not drowned.
@Quentin @Mirage
Then, just as soon as the flood came, it went. The cascades became reduced to trickles down the canyon walls. No longer fed by forceful currents, the churning waters lessen into leisurely streams that slowly drain into the Crucible's smaller, underground pockets. In the heat, he remaining water should turn to wet clay, then dry out completely in the course one day. Quentin will find himself farther down the Crucible, closer to the Dead Marsh, and feeling rather sore.
Even though it was so short, he was lucky to have not drowned.
@Quentin @Mirage
Nov 30 2019, 11:18 PM
"Quentin!! Quentin!" Mirage cried as her friend was swept bellow the waves. She held tight to the root, at least until she realized that he definitely had not took hold. Then she scrambled over the roots, rushing further down the narrow cliff path.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, but despite that, she could pick out Quentin's heartbeat, twisting and spinning through the rapids. She scrambled further out of the Crucible as the water levels lowered, hopping down as the ground started to appear through the waves.
She quickly managed to get to Quentin's side, relieved that his heart was still pulsing. "Oh, oh, oh," she fretted, "Quentin, are you okay? Can you move?" She glanced about, her feather fluffing up. What if an eyehook vulture came swooping down while they were out in the open?
She reached out her good wing toward him, scanning the amber-tinted skies. "That happened so fast," she whimpered, "maybe we should move the den higher up...?" But the higher they went, the more likely they'd run into the vultures...
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