Renasci

Things had felt... off, since the day of the cat on the beach.

Renasci hadn't been able to spot their Moremore anywhere, and had begun to get worried. Surely something as large as them can't just... disappear, can they?

Well, no matter for now, they suppose. Maybe being able to climb into the nest at some point will require some help, but other than that, all they can do is wait with the cold twisting in their gut, and so wait they shall do.

...

...

...

Waiting is making the twisting worse and is boring, time to find something else.

So, they stride off to a nearby rock, kick some sand over the designs they'd been drawing with their toes, and gather their things. The large shard from their chrysalis, now crudely wrapped around one end and about the length of their arm, and some neat stones with grooves carved into them from worried talons. Nothing else of note, really, remains as their possession - everything big and important is in the nest, and they can't get in there right now.

Now, they let some magic bloom across their arm feathers as they walk, picking with the edge of their blade at the partially open quills and frowning. What to do, what to do...

Renasci

Magic does nothing, at first, and so they push harder at it, glaring at one specific quill under their banded gemstone blade with slitted eyes.

Work, cliffs curse it, can something just work today?

As magic does what it wants when it wants, and hates being forced, apparently, there's a sharp pain as a good swathe of Renasci's arm bursts into hot, blue flame. A split second of staring at the fire, as it dies out, and then queue the screaming. Alarm, pain, both, it's high pitched and shrill as the harpy books it across the sand, flailing wildly with all six limbs before diving into the surf.

As a note, the flame had gone out almost as soon as Ren had moved, let alone begun their frenzied half-hopping flail of a flight towards the water, but... well, one does not stop running towards water when on fire for the first time, do they? And neither do instincts let you pause to think when you are in danger without experience.

Renasci

Today.

Officially.

Is horrid.

Renasci would say this, of course, if they weren't submerged in the waves of Leo's waters, with their arm smarting horribly. They pop up, taking a deep breath, and they glare down at their arm as if to blame their own feathers for the mishap. Of course, nothing happens, and bare red skin glares back, odd in it's lack of crisp gold scales or dusty grey-blue feathers.

Odd.

So, of course, they want to poke it. Slogging out of the water, now bare of their adornments of lichen and some weeds, the blade is dropped tip down into the hot sand, and the harpy drops onto their bum right next to it. They cross their legs, and then bring their injured left arm in front of them to prod at with the pinky talon of the other.

Which is a bad idea, learned quickly with shrill chirp-like yell.

"Ow... fish guts, that... hurts... maybe..." they let their voice trail off, and they begin to glance around the beach for something to cover their arm with. The bright heat hurts, and some newer instinct tells them to cover the injury quickly.

Renasci

One ear tuft tilted out to listen, the other flattened back with the grimace on their face, the short harpy makes their way towards some of the nearby grasses growing from the sands. Part of them wonders idly at being able to grow a bed from these, maybe? But the sharp edges of the blades quickly brushes that thought away when they tug at the clump.

Parting stems, they look for any wet sand or clay like soil held in the roots, and thicker roots to maybe chew up and lick into their cut. Some part of their brain is encouraging them to find cool and damp for their skin, to cover the burn from the light so that it won't further blister and become an open wound.

Thicker plants with squishy leaves carry more water, and so they come to the logical conclusion that if it's good to eat, it'll be good to apply to a wound. Of course, we know this to be false for things with sucrose in them, but nothing in the bird's reach is sweet, and so it's not a worry. For now.