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CAVE STATUS
QUESTS/EVENTS
Autumn arrives, subdued by the caves' depths. Skittering leaves, thick fog or drifting mist, and cooler temperatures provide a crisp fall atmosphere. The spectres of Andromeda drift in and out of visibility, and pumpkins begin to spread beneath foliage shifting into hues of amber and flame. Strange whispering can be heard at the edges of empty tunnels, and the Carnival seems more boisterous than usual...
Sep 29 2018, 06:00 PM (This post was last modified: Sep 29 2018, 06:08 PM by Artume.)
MAGICKA LEVEL 100% RESTORED TO 100%
It was peaceful.
Artume grazed, enjoying the lushness of the grass beneath her teeth. Many Gembounds tended to hatch here, and so that was what she had been doing. Welcoming them to the Caves, and making sure they could survive on their own. She never stayed too long, not wanting them to rely on her too much. They needed to be self sufficient, and she needed to help others.
However, she never strayed far. They may not see her, but she would check on them. From the trees, from a far away hill-top, she would watch them. Make sur ethey were safe. And if they were struggling, in need of food, they might wake to find a pile of food - dead cave-rats, if they were the sort to eat meat, or perhaps fruits and bananas if not. She never stayed long enough to be seen, and would remain hidden until she was certain that their food hadn't been stolen, that they'd eaten, before going on her way.
As she grazed, she thought back on those she had met recently.
Many, she had only watched hatch from afar. If they needed help, she would step in. Most Gembounds, it would seem, hatched able to speak and fight and hunt or forage.
Her head snapped up, easily picking up at a panicked call of her name. She gulped down the mouthful of grass she had, and began to race in the direction of the cry, barreling as fast as she could, a pang of alarm in her chest.
She was quick to find the source of the cry, a familiar looking lion cub - Njeri. But, looking around, she couldn't find any danger. So she slowed to a trot, then to a stop, looking between the three young ones. Furrowing her brow, she asked, "Njeri? What's wrong?"