from the ashes

"I wonder if I was sweet once...wretched thing... pull yourself together!"

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bg3 rp sideblog! follows come from halsinsgate about Dirt | blog rules | AU verses | carrd | dirt's musings | tags |

It shouldn't have happened overnight, but perhaps the ability to wildshape was simply dormant until the group met with spotted hyenas a few days prior. It was evident in his fascination and sorrow of the gnoll creatures, bursting free from the bellies of bloated hyenas. How slaying the beasts felt similar to slaying ones kin. They were usually chatty, flirtatious or willing to indulge in a bit of banter but their silence hung heavy over the camp. That was until they made it to the mountain pass where new territory and adventures were cause for distraction.

One evening, half a days trek away from the Gith camp, he goes for a walk and returns a hyena.

Their first instinct is to seek out the druid--after all, it was he whom they were trying to impress was it not? But Dirt had wanted to wildshape into a bear such as Halsin! Not this chunky mutt of fleas... They flick their ear and chitter nervously, pacing back and forth, tongue lolling with nerves. Their urge whispered to them, said this beast once aided him... but aided him when? He yelps in surprise when his nose boops someone's thigh. His hackles raise upon seeing Osian.

What in the world was he doing outside camp so late? and worse yet, it was unlikely he'd recognize him

❝Ha. I can still recall the taste of a tender heart...❞ Dirt blinks back tears and uses their knuckle to dab absently at his eyes.

Dirt's breathing stutters as he exhales. It was always easier not to cry when you weren't looking at anyone. His gaze remains ahead, fixated on the leaves in the trees. How the sunlight brings out the dappled colours. Greens and yellows. A bit of spotting from the heat.

He tries to ignore the delighted squeals of orphaned Tieflings and the booming laughter coming from Halsin followed by a splash as he tosses them into the lake.

❝Contrary to your belief, his hand is my trophy. Nothing more, nothing less. I think very little of the wizard.❞

Their clipped tone suggests otherwise. Perhaps arrogance ambition was a trait that Dirt looked down upon. Perhaps Gale was just an unfortunate victim of Dirt's urge before it was repressed. Whatever the reason, the Tiefling held no regrets, and it tickled him to know that the wizard was without a hand.

He giggles manically.

Dirt blinks slowly and takes a measured breath.