#wshingwells

normally… being around humans puts them on edge. But this is just a girl, and she’s been feeding the birds in the wood. Chara watches her, cautious, from where they’ve positioned themself at the base of one of the larger trees.

(surely, birds have better judgement of humans than most living creatures.)

“… do you do this often? The birds seem to know you.”

｢𓆄｣ "Restless first day, huh?" The voice seemed to come from no where, though, when the other tried to search for the source of the voice. There popped Hawks, hanging upside down from the tree. He was about to hop down, so it was safe to say, his leg was stuck.

"Sure, being thrust into a new place is super weird, but everyone here's pretty chill for the most part!" He had been taking a break from his night shift patrol, but, seeing teens out this late always concerned him: so, he was here to be an ear or a voice of reason. Whatever was needed of him.

It's not a place Ambrose would normally visit, but the draw for him was definitely decorating the trees in the area, no matter if he had to take frequent breaks between to avoid straining himself. But it helps the normalcy of life here, and that's enough to lift his spirits for a little while and forget about being stuck in this city.

Tall as the trees are, too, it doesn't come as much of a surprise to see a young girl who seems to be struggling to reach up to add some bells to the branches, and without thinking he tries to hail her attention to ask her a question:

Raven's the first one to notice the druid- the tressym's ears perking up at a sound and her little claws digging into Malchior's leg as a way to get his attention- because he was often lost in thought, reading that tome left behind. It hurts you, the tome, she says, it makes your emotions dark, it makes your magic dark- but I think there's a little bit of light about to walk into your life. At this, he looks up, taking note of the girl who had found her way to a spot he'd unofficially chosen as his 'thinking spot'.

The tadpole stirred ever so slightly. A survivor.

Raven was right; reading Rorek's grimoire hurt him, it filled him with anger and pain- because he wanted Rorek to survive. In his desperation to keep any part of the wizard with him, he'd consumed a second illithid tadpole- Rorek's tadpole managed to calm that spike of anger, because in the end, he was glad to see someone else who had survived that absolute hell. ❝ It looks like there's more of us than i thought- ❞

❝ I ... didn't see you on the Nautiloid, but ... ❞ Somehow, she had acquired an illithid tadpole, too. It seemed she was also offered some form of protection. Malchior was no fool- he'd learned enough in his studies with Rorek about the nature of ceremorphosis. At most, the process took a week- an agonizing thing ... but she looked as if she'd survived more than that- so what else could he assume? ❝ It's good to see you ... er ... symptom free. ❞

(QUEST) SWEET CANDY FOREST: It Ain’t A Fantasy Without A Dragon

"Beware of its candied breath, huh..." She's read over the quest in question. "Well, good thing we'll be protected, hm?" Lifting her head to look at her companion, Hanabi smiles. "Together, I'm sure we'll be able to take down this dragon!"

She's glad they've got to meet again and this time on a much lighter note, it seems.

Sweet Sculps Resituated ( @wshingwells )

there's a short 'meow' that prompts dar'khol's response, a quickened jog set in its given direction. "didja find one? didn't think ya'd care to help me--" the warrior's voice trails off, approach slowing to a stop as shoulders sag with a sigh. he held the assumption his gaelicat had warmed up to the idea of aiding his search, but all she's done is found a new face to butter up.

"... me," dar breaths in soft defeat, palms dropping to rest against his hips. a tired stare meets boo's own, widened look. not an ounce of regret in those eyes, huh? go figure. as for her new source of attention...

          AN IMPASSIVE GAZE STARED DOWN at the device in callum's hand with nothing short of incomprehension, the only sign of his confusion the faintest crease between his silver eyes. anyone who had been paying attention for any length of time would know that he had been cradling the device for nearly fifteen minutes, occasionally giving a hesitant tap to its screen before dropping his free hand again. the tiefling had been led to believe he could pay for food with it... somehow. but it was nothing like the usual metallic coins he was used to, and insofar it had seemed unwilling to divulge its secrets to him.

Honestly, he's gotten pretty annoyed with trying to find clothes that actually fit him. Usually it was fine - the tophat, bowtie and heels combo was enough! And for the ball a few months back, all he needed was a mask and arm drapes, which didn't needed to be fitted perfectly. Now, though, that it's practically freezing all the time? He's found a few good scarves, and everything else hates him. Sure, he's warmer than most humans on default, but that doesn't matter much when wind is a factor.

So, here he is. The classes here are mostly for mittens and scarves, yes, but he'd just printed off a few cloak patterns from his jobs printer and brought them here to leach off of the yarn provided. It's going well. Really. It's not like he's learning a completely new skill, this is just - a refresher! Yes. A refresher.