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AT THE BASE OF THE WATERFALL - LATE MORNING
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Doc Plume reclines on a smooth rock at the edge of the watefall basin with their feet once again dangling into the water. The gryphon's fluffy white-furred tail twitches its tip lazily as the gryphon themself relaxes after a light lunch. Their black beak hangs open a little, their eyes lidded against the midday sun. The gryphon is dressed in grey trousers and a white buttondown shirt, their usual work attire.
Kyprin Kane had lost him again. Phosyx had snuck off while the young reptilian was napping, the rope that connected them chewed to pieces. Kyprin ran his hand over the small dilute colored fin on his head, and checked his surroundings. The food was intact, so the dragon had just gone wandering. Well, it was time to move on anyway. He packed up his meagre camp, folding the patched and holey tent into his pack, collected the food gourd that hung from the tree he'd camped under. Thus packed, he wrapped a hank of rope around his fist and went sunward, because that was how the little escape artist had always wandered. . . . meanwhile, the call of a waterfall had summoned the young dragon, the small blue creature sneaking up from the west, approaching with the caution of a creature that knew what being hunted was. His small body was sleek, possessed of 4 limbs that were ground-facing, a long tail and thick heavy ridges down his back that would eventually become spurs. His ears were little more than holes in his head, and his face was not entirely dissimilar as the bonded two-legger who followed his tracks to the waterfall. Keeping wary, he skulked up to the pool at the waterfall and dipped his head, taking a drink. This left him unprepared for the annoyed roar of "PHOSYX You little Ass!" as Kyprin spotted him and went charging at the creature.
Doc Plume isn't quite asleep, but is definitely drifting in that direction with hints of dreams and random thoughts nibbling at the edge of their consciousness. All of that comes to an abrupt end with the sudden yell, which causes the gryphon to sit upright with a start. In fact, they sit upright so quickly that their wings overbalance them and they slide forward inexorably into the waterfall's basin. Before Doc can fully come to their senses, the cruel mistress that is the force of gravity and inertia has carried them headlong into the water. Luckily the water at the edge of the basin isn't very deep, but it is still cold and the sudden surprise bath leaves the gryphon now sodden and very much awake. As they claw their way back onto the rock, they look around to see where the shout came from.
Kyprin Kane more or less lunges and tackles the small blue dragon at the edge of the water, flipping him upside down and swatting his butt firmly twice before pinning him under a knee to hitch the rope from around his wrist to around the belly and front legs of the dragon, making a harness that would keep him tied but not around his neck. "you little shit" he swears softly as he put him back down and looked around. Had he heard...? Yes he did. There was someone in the water and the reptilian youngster, an adult but just barely, blanched. That was probably his fault. He dropped the rope holding onto the dragon, hissing "if you move..!" and charging head-first into the water, his strong tail slashing side to side to give him an advantage as he half-leapt through it. "I'm so sorry!' he calls as he got closer. He would try to help the other person stand, his expression one of pure dismay. "I didn't know he was bothering anybody, I just thought he had snuck off again!"
Doc Plume has managed to pull themself out of the water again by the time that the reptile makes their way over. Doc blinks at the creature and shakes their head. "Don't worry about it... my fault for nodding off there, I guess." They shiver a bit, the cold mountain water having had enough time to get past their vulpine undercoat and corvid feathers. They make a vain effort to shake out their limbs, bit the sodden shirt and trousers aren't helping matters.
Kyprin Kane rubs his backfin again, and chuckles awkwardly. "Not your fault you were napping. it's a nice day!" he went stomping back to the dragon and seizes the leash end of the rope before he could scamper again, scooping up the wayward creature and returning with him pinned firmly under an arm to the dge of the water where Doc stood. A scaly hand thrusts out that isn't pinning the dragon to his side, "Kyprin" he says plainly, jiggling the dragon, and adding, "Phosyx, aka The Mighty Runaway. Be careful, he eats books." His tone was not particularly serious but he did say it without so much as a smile. He tugs his pack off his shoulder, yanks a thick cloth from the top of it and holds it out to them.
Doc Plume cocks their head and smiles a bit. "Fair enough." The take the offered hand in their own black, taloned one and shake. (Said talons are filed down just enough to not be dangerous, but to maintain some utility.) "Dr. Plume, resident physician and surgeon here in Respite Falls, albeit new to the position." They shiver a little as a gust of wind chills them even more. They wrap their black wings around their shoulders like a cloak to hold out some of the chill. At the mention of eating books, Doc gives the little pet a side-eye. "Well, keep him out of my clinic, then." They gratefully accept the towel and begin to use it to dry off a little bit, still leaving their sodden clothing in place for the present time.
Kyprin Kane shakes the hand offered, his smile was genuine if a bit understated. "I know what physician is, but what is," and here he butchered the word, "Sair-gyon?" His words spoke the language truly and without great accent but he was clearly not from nearby. the dragon squeaks when Kyprin shakes him again, assuring Plume "He never goes anywhere I want him too, don't you worry. All I have to do is tell him he's allowed in!"
Doc Plume gives a bit of a cawing laugh as they continue to work the towel over their slim frame. "Ah... a surgeon is someone who repairs the body... closing wounds or removing damaged pieces..." The start to walk toward the town slowly, wanting nothing more than to change into a dry set of clothes. "So what brings you to the area, Kyprin? You and your... pet?"
Kyprin Kane gave a shrug and follows after Plume, thinking that where-ever they were going was more interesting than where he was leaving. "That sounds messy, the insides of people are so...everywhere." His mouth quirked in a bitter smile as he said it, his scaley lips parting to expose a mouth of deadly looking fangs. The dragon bounces along on his hip, until he grows weary of the jostling and proceeds to climb the walking Kyprin, perching on his shoulder in a large and unwieldy way. Kyprin scritches him under the chin as he contemplates how to answer the question. "We seek a man, although i suspect I'm very far from his trail." At the word pet he hissed softly and corrected in a firm tone, "-Companion-. He's far too disobedient to be a pet." He gave a chuckle to take the sting from his words.
Doc Plume is facing away from Kyprin, so doesn't see any of the lizard's expressions. They nod to his words and ponder them. "I'm fairly new to town myself, but I might have met whoever it is you're looking for. What's his name?" The pair (trio?) quickly approach the town, its dusty roads and simple buildings showing that some semblance of civilization has once again been reached.
Kyprin Kane did his best to keep his short choppy steps close to Plume, but he flags behind them several times as he has to adjust where Phosyx sits. His shoulder on that side was triple layered, and turned up at the edges to give the creature somewhere to put his claws that wasn't flesh. Catching up the most recent time, he looked where they were headed and smiled, cheering "AAh! Population! At last! I need a WARM bath. I cannot remember when last I was warm through my bones." it seems the question was either avoided, or forgotten in the excitement of seeing the city.
Doc Plume chuckles to themself. "Indeed. There's a reason this place is called Respite. Now then, I need a change of clothes and to dry off. I'll be able to give you a quick tour after that. They make a beeline down the main street to their office where they unlock the door. "Would you like to wait inside or out on the porch? I can let you in if you'll control your companion."
Kyprin Kane repeats the word "Respite" with an interested sort of tone, committing it to memory as they strode through a proper development too, not just some houses thrown onto a main road. He glances at Phosyx who spits at him and his expression turns bemused as he says with great weariness, "WE will stay outside, where WE aren't going to eat books, or housepets." He scritches the creature under its chin, getting a bite for his effort, and wincing he adds, "I couldn't control him if my life depended on it. But I can't be without him, so we have reached an accord.
Doc Plume nods noncommittally to the lizard and points at a simple wooden bench along the wall outside the clinic. "I won't be long." They toss the now sodden towel back to the lizard before disappearing inside the clinic, the door locking behind them with an audible click of tumblers.
Kyprin Kane catches the towel and pulling off his pack, straps it down spread out over it, so it would dry. He then pries Phosyx off his shoulder and firmly sets him on all fours on the road, a finger held out to him. "Listen you. We are around PEOPLE now and you CANNOT be acting up. Do you want to get us chased out again?" Phosyx, who knew the tone of being scolded but didn't care and didn't understand the words, chose this moment to squat and piddle on the street. "Lovely. Lovely!" he says to the skies, pleading for patience with his eyes screwed up tight, arms to the heavens. "Why couldn't it be a cow? or a nice squirrelrat?" He sits down on the bench with a firmly thump, he is heavier than he looks, and tightens the rope on his wrist.
Doc Plume comes back downstairs and outside a few minutes later. They're wearing a similar outfit to the one that was soaked, though there's also a sturdy black canvas duster over the shirt and trousers and flat, wide-brimmed hat on their head. They seem a little surprised that Kyprin and Phosyx didn't run off while they were changing. "Still here? All right then, what did you want to see in town?" They lock the clinic behind them before taking a seat on the bench next to Kyprin.
Kyprin Kane seems well settled when Plume returns, Phosyx sitting on his lap, chewing on what appeared to be the leathery skeleton of something long dead, which Kyprin held the other end of, gently tugging it and watching as the dragon engaged both front and back jaw muscles, playing. he jumps when Plume returns and shoves the dead thing back where it came from, a deep pocket on the side of his leather tunic, and blinks three long moments before he devises an answer that'll work. "Well, We are hungry, he's thirsty, and I need a bath. Preferably in that order." He adds with a snicker, standing and tucking the dragon onto his hip again. Four sets of claws set into his breeches, clinging like the creature had done it all his life, and perhaps he had.
Doc Plume watches the pair at play and smiles with the muscles at the corner of their beak. They stretch out there legs and ponder the requests. "Right, you can get a room above the Thirsty Minnow, which is just up the street, as well as good food and drink. I'm not sure if they allow companions like yours though. As for a bath, there's a bathhouse around the corner from the inn."
Kyprin Kane jostles Phosyx as he tries to crane his long neck backwards and snap playfully at Plume, the young reptilian taking three wide steps out of reach of any teeth. A nod, and he comments, "If he isn't allowed inside, we can always camp outside the city. We are used to..prejudices against his kind." Dark scaled fingers softly stroked the dragons chin until Phosyx settled again, clacking his back jaw muscles in a chuckling laugh that was clearly a sound of pleasure. "And he's an ill-behaved wretch of a demon born of my own blood, so what am I to do?" His tail wags back and forth once before curling around his ankle..It had the same low ridge that his back and neck did, tapering off in a series of bright yellow stripes. "We can always eat outside. It's cold but at least it isn't raining." His tone was casual, accepting of the price that life with this one created, and he seemed as if he was used to being turned away. Nothing in his tone implied it wasn't commonplace.
Doc Plume cocks their head and frowns. "Well, I know innkeepers aren't fond of pets or livestock, but I've never seen one particularly prejudiced against lizards specifically..."
Kyprin Kane laughs softly, but it was a cruel laugh, as he answers simply, "You've also never seen a dragon bite, I wager." He watches the ill-behaved creature on his hip as they talk, the young reptile enjoying the company of another speaking person.
Doc Plume blinks. "Dragon? But dragons are huge and mindless beasts... they're not like your friend there..."
Kyprin Kane crosses his eyes and shuffles Phosyx so he could plop him down as he sat next to Plume, though his laugh changed to one of genuine amusement. "You've never seen a baby dragon??" He literally picked the dragon up by his belly and held him out, carefully, so that long neck couldn't snap. "He will grow wings eventually I believe, but he is too small to have them right now."
Doc Plume can't help but back away out of instinct. This is more due to the little beast's snappy nature than the fact that it's a dragon. They sit perched on the far end of the bench and frowns a bit. "Fair enough. I might not mention that fact then, if you're looking for a place to stay with him in tow."
Kyprin Kane was visibly hurt by the withdrawal of Plume, but he was used to it and he set the now growling beast down on his lap, pulling out the corpse-toy and wagging it in front of his nose until he snapped at it and locked his jaws, yanking it back and forth. "I couldn't lie about it. . . He makes himself known if I try to keep him hidden, and he bites them as who threaten me. If they won't have us -- that I accept -- but to lie for a single bed, and a meal? Unthinkable. Lies are for life and death." Back and forth, yank yank, his hand playing with the small dragon as if he wasn't even aware of it. "Some folks are understanding.. We've even been places where he's welcomed. If we aren't.. then the Fates have deemed it so. Just as they have decided you should be one who flinches at creatures once they know their nature." Saliva drips from the dragons mouth, it was a pale yellow color, and down the toy, which crinkled and crunched delightfully in Phosyx's mouth settles their nerves a little and looks down at Phosyx. "No, it's not that... he just seems a bit... vicious I suppose. Him being a dragon has nothing to do with it." They sigh a little and take their hat in their hands for the want of something to do, rotating it slowly in the two handed grip. "And I didn't mean that you should deny his existence, but rather just don't mention that he's a-- dragon." The last word is whispered in a hushed tone.
Kyprin Kane chuckles, yanking the toy back and forth until he was almost unseating the small creature. "he IS vicious. His kind are mad, feral hunters, useless but anything except killing and f--breeding." He switches the word he was going to use half-through the breath. "But he's not going to draw blood with all that snapping and dramatics. He's just posing because he can smell your fear." His eyes drift to the hat now turning in Plume's hands and he grimaces, "I'm sorry. perhaps I should go, you look awfully uncomfortable. We can always camp on the edge of town tonight..." He didn't really want to go, they were fun to talk to after all, and so he makes no motion to stand again just yet, though his expression was apologetic.
Doc Plume stands and shakes their head. "No, it's fine. I was just spooked is all. Used to dealing with folks who can speak and think for themselves. Not so great with the wild animals." They set their hat back on their head. "You don't need to go yet, but if you do want to find somewhere to camp, I think there's a few dry caves and sheltered outcroppings near the waterfall. Nesseth would know better. He's one of the local hunters. Also a lizard..."
Kyprin Kane smiles, standing as well and tucking Phosyx back onto his shoulder, after sliding the toy into its pocket. It had a bit of a funky smell. "It's okay to be spooked. Not everyday you meet somebody who is blood-bonded to vicious predators." He scritches that 'vicious predator' under the tummy and Phosyx moans in pleasure, eyes closing as his belly squishes down onto the padded shoulder-piece. "let's get food for us first, then we shall see whether folks want us out of town or not." His expression said he very much expected eviction, based on their response to his companion. "'Also' a lizard? What-ever do you mean?" His head tilted curiously.
Doc Plume steps down onto the street again, leading Kyprin at a slow pace. "Yes, well, he's reptilian, like you. About my size, less stocky than you. I suppose the climate of the desert is suitable for reptiles in general. There seem to be quite a few around: you, Nesseth, that kobold inventor..." They pause in their step and look back at the sturdy reptile and their small companion. "What do you mean blood-bonded?"
Kyprin Kane lofts a brow at Plume's words, following with a trotted pace that keeps him close at hand. "There are OTHERS like me?" His face is animated, the dragon forgotten in that moment. "I've never met one." He hadn't met his parents? He left that unexplained as he looked at Plume and chuckled, "I'm surprised you don't know." He reaches his hand up and bites the tip. Within seconds, he has a single drop of blood and he wafted it near the dragons face, who emitted a ferocious and terrifying growl incomparable to his size, his hackles lifting as he stomped his feet on that shoulder pad. "He was born feeding on my blood. His egg was broken and he was dying and.. he bit me. He'll never forget me." In fact, when he extends a hand, a pure white scar the size of a cats bite adorning it just above the wrist. It was a series of punctures, with three tearing holes at the back on each side, and it had obviously healed without medical care. it was at least 5 years old.
Doc Plume watches Kyprin feed the dragon, somewhat entranced by the act. After a moment, their eyes shift up to the old scar, understanding most of its provenance just by the look of it. "Intriguing... and yes, I'm sure you'll meet Nesseth or Strix before too long. I would be careful around the kobold, though. He tends to bring disaster in his wake." The group soon approaches the doors to the Thirsty Minnow, its sign showing a minnow with an exaggerated smile frozen mid-jump into a frothing mug of what can be assumed to be beer of some sort. "This is the place."
Kyprin Kane knew he was putting on a show when the dragon came to life like a mythical war beast, but as soon as that blood was removed from the equation he settles back down, though the dragon occasionally chirping an annoyed noise as they walked. "I have a small journal about what I've understood of it, and what I learned from him, if you ever want to take a look." He smiles as he sees the clear signs of a way-house and stops in his tracks, yanking the dragon off his shoulder and putting his scaley nose against the dragons. he stared intently into his eyes, saying in an unforgiving tone, "Behave!" before plopping the dragon onto his hip, adjusting the claws so they gripped. Tucked there underneath the pack, he sat in shadow, looking more like a pouch than a living attachment to the tan leather. "Join me? My treat. Assuming you take gold here." He produces three coins in his palm that had definitely not been there five seconds before, each a thicker set of gold than the one before. They were round, with a hole punched in the middle, and roaring dragons on one side, the other stamped 'ENVROSS'. "They are from farther away than I am" he adds, as the coins disappeared with a wave of his hand as well.
Doc Plume smiles. "I just had lunch, but I'll join you for a quick drink before I have to get back to the clinic. I need to be available in case of emergency, of course." They watch the coins appear and disappear, but their keen eyes can see some of the quick moves used to accomplish the feat. "A nice trick. I think you flex the base of your thumb too much on the re-concealment, though." They give a quick cawing laugh and then walk into the bar before Kyprin has a chance to respond.
Kyprin Kane grunts with surprise when they correct him on his form, and forgetting to follow them inside, he stops to perform the trick a few times, grimacing when he realizes they were right. "Hell" he mutters and pivots, stepping into the bar, a hand dropping to the dragons head, whether to protect him or those inside was unclear. His defensiveness becomes much more evident as he moves to where light and people gather in hedonistic pleasure.
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RESPITE FALLS - NESSETH'S HOUSE - MID-AFTERNOON
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Narrator: The house is alive with the sounds of activity, all coming from the kitchen. The rustle of clothing, the subtle footsteps of someone moving around with determined haste, the metallic clunk of pots and pans as they're moved around, and an overriding sound of sizzling food all fill the air.
Nesseth moves from the stove to the kitchen counters arrayed with cuts of meat and various seasonings, all prepared and waiting to be cooked, as he goes about preparing for that meal for four he promised Vix, Damina and Annika a few days ago. The work is pretty intense, but he seems to have a rhythm as he moves about with, if not necessarily practiced ease then at least a certain, naive confidence.
Nesseth mutters quietly to himself as he mentally runs over the list of dishes he's intending to make yet again, all while his hands get to work cutting, seasoning, frying, flipping and generally tending to all the various foods currently cooking.
Nesseth quickly begins to discover that the hardest part about this isn't actually cooking for more folks, since it's mostly just a matter of making larger portions, but dealing with the heat that fills the kitchen from all of the things cooking at once. It's not exactly uncomfortable, but he does find himself occasionally staring off into space as the heat starts making him feel really lazy.
Nesseth gives himself a shake and goes to open a couple of windows to let some air flow through and cool the place off a bit. It works... sort of, at least enough to help him focus a little better for now.
Narrator: As the minutes pass, plates begin to pile high with food ready to be eaten. As the last burner on the stove gets turned off, Nesseth lets out a soft sigh and flops onto a seat, just waiting for the air in the kitchen to cool off again as he waits for the arrival of his guests.
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MARKETPLACE - LATE EVENING
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Annika: Annika was out late. She hadn't really meant to be out this late, but she got a small job in the North City that ran long, and she needed to get a few personal items before she went home. She had those now, and so was trying to meekly weave her way through the loose crowds back 'home', such that it is. She's nervous, and wants to get off the street as quickly as possible, ears turning towards any possible threat.
Maybelline staggers a little through the market in her travel cloak, holding a large brown bottle she bought from the Minnow, not really feeling in the mood for lots of company again after her first few drinks. Now she's wandering towards home, a little tipsy, with the intent of becoming much more tipsy soon.
Annika also wasn't going to engage anyone socially right now! In fact, when she saw Maybelline, she moved to get away, slipping into a side alley. Someone drinking could be dangerous, and Annika was really not about anyone dangerous!
Annika had, in fact, left so quickly she had left her bag of stuff behind!
Maybelline continues to walk along until she suddenly trips over the wayward bag, becoming more intimately familiar with the ground than she already was, letting loose a curse as she bruises her snout. "Gahh, sthupid rocksh! Who put... all this dirt here?"
Annika realizes she had left her bag, and stops, turning around, slowly sneaking back. She sees that Maybelline is down on the ground..and..well..they seem okay. So Annika slowly attempts to grab the bag, and make a dash back into the safety of the shadows, without being seen.
Maybelline sits up as Annika draws near, rubbing her nose, careful of the whiskers. She glances first at her bottle, still intact, somehow, then back at the bag she tripped over, and at the fox sneaking up on her. Her ears fold down a little, and she sighs, "Jusht great... Haven't been in town a week, and already gonna get murdered... Ss'not like things coulda got any worse I guessh. Just make it fasht."
Annika: "I'm..not going to hurt you" She picks up her bag "I..I just dropped this" She's super defensive about the accusation! "I'd..I'd never hurt anyone!"
Maybelline stands up unsteadily and looks over Annika. May's wearing her travel cloak, but underneath are the dirty work overalls she's been wearing on the job. She narrows her eyes at the fox then sighs, "Ssooo you're not gonna kill me? ...okay. That'sh probably fine too. Don't... don't really wanna die. I think."
Annika holds her bag tightly to herself, mildly terrified "No! Not at all! Why..Why would I want to do that?"
Maybelline shakes her head, "'Cause I figured that'd jusht be one more thing to go wrong in my life..." She sighs, looking away from the fox, "Shorry... it'sh not you. Jusht me." She looks down at the bottle in her hands again.
Annika: "..well..um.." She stammers, not sure how to approach this "..Ah..maybe..you should..uh..try...taaalking about it?" She's spacing out the suggestion slowly
Maybelline sits back down in the middle of the market street and nods. "...s'not much to talk about... I'm all shmart, top of my classh." She waves her bottle over her head, "Gonna have my choice of jobsh! Could go anywhere I want! Then shuddenly I'm outdated. New technology makesh all my hard work useless in the big citiesh. So here I am." She sighs, "Shorry... Haven't even introduced myself... I'm May. Jusht May."
Annika: "Oh..I'm..um..Annika" She doesn't sit down, but she does lean against the wall nearby "I..can't really get much of a job either. I'm just looking to be a cleaner, and stuff like that, I'm getting a little bit of work, but nothing long term" She sighs "But..I suppose we just have to keep going, but..um..maybe..drink less?"
Maybelline clutches her bottle a little tighter, "You sound like the Doc does... Plun? Plum? The half-bird doc."
Annika: "Well..I..just don't think its making you happier" She toes the dirt with her footpaw "..I've never really seen it make anyone happier, but I can't control what you do"
Maybelline purses her lips in thought, "Everyone else ish drinking... I'm jusht bein' social, right?"
Annika: "Well..I'm not drinking..are you being social right now?..You look kinda lonely"
Maybelline snorts, pouting grumpily. "I'm not lonely. I'm not. Got plenty of friendsh. All sortsh of friends. They're jusht... not here. They're all back home, a continent away. ...Not lonely..."
Annika: "There's nothing wrong with it..well..there's some things wrong, but..I'm lonely too"
Maybelline glances up at Annika and frowns, "...you're lonely t-" She cuts herself off and starts again, "You're lonely? ...that'sh not right."
Annika: "Why not?" She looks back to May "What makes you think I can't be?"
Maybelline stands back up again, at least seeming a little less shakey now as she looks up at Annika, "Cause... you seem nice. You should have friendsh."
Annika: "Well, there are some people that are nice" She shrugs idly "But..friends are people you can trust with the bad stuff..so..well..I don't"
Maybelline closes her eyes a moment. "...yeah but... bein' lonely sucksh..."
Annika: "Well...it does..but..um..if you don't mind me saying..you..don't have the solution"
Annika: "You just gotta keep talking to people until you find someone you trust"
Maybelline opens her eyes again to look at Annika, shaking a little, "Even when that's... really hard and scary?"
Annika: "I don't..I don't like being scared, but sometimes..you have to do the scary things, to get the bad.." She catches her tongue "things to stop"
Maybelline nods slowly. "M-maybe... that all makes sorta sense..." She glances at the bottle in her hand and sighs. "I hope you can find someone you can trust with you bad stuff..."
Annika: "Well.." She shrugs "Maybe. I don't want to involve anyone either..But...you seem a nice person, maybe you should try finding someone you can trust with your bad stuff"
Maybelline shrugs slightly, "Y-yeah... I'm still new in town, so, you know. Not lonely... but..." she slumps her shoulders, hanging her head down in front of her, "M-maybe I'm a little lonely."
Annika settles down beside her, and puts an arm around her "Well..I..don't really trust people very quickly..but for now..how about we be lonely together?" she gives a soft little smile.
Maybelline manages a smile back, "M-maybe I'm still a bit drunk but... that'd be nice..."
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SOUTHWEST OF RESPITE FALLS - LATE EVENING
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Narrator Hardly a single blade of stunted grass stirs in calm air as the moon makes an appearance from behind the mountain range East of the town. White light cascades over the dry plain stretching away from protective walls, what little deposits of scrub there were casting long, sharp shadows on the sandy canvas. With the light of the night mistress only infrequently interrupted by fleeting clouds, a particular amphibian bows farewells to a tired looking night-watch guard before trekking out of town.
Froge shifts the satchel on his back as he leaves the town, aware of how wide open the world feels when not surrounded by such novel structures. He considers the moon briefly, happy to be guided by it's cool embrace, even if the air itself is still found lacking. Even though he's only just left the confines of the town, he feels the grip of strange claustrophobia release from his chest, lending him to nervously chuckle and quiet song as he walks away, not daring to look back, although he doesn't need to as a cloud washes over the moon, casting a cold wash of shadow that sweeps from behind him and startles the nervous frog into dashing away from the city until the light returns. When he slows and finally stops, Froge turns around and sees the walls in the distance, comfortably small and innocent from a couple miles away, and he can't help but shudder out a nervous laugh, his song drifting across the sandy ground, leaving him alone in the moonlight.
Froge lingers, hands kneading the strap of his satchel as he watches another cloud shadow drift over the town and towards him, not nearly as frightening as when it's sneaking from behind. Shaking his head, Froge turns to continue on his way, scolding himself: "Enough of that. The walls are strange, yes, and there is too much to look at, yes, but there are good people! Strange, wonderful people, and they need firegas." Continuing on his way, he uses the minor trickling brook as his guide, no roads leading him home the way his predecessor had said was safest. The brook meanders along some ways South-West of the town, pointing towards the sea, though it seems to vanish into a narrow ravine near the base of the Southernmost mountain. "'From that narrow crack, the coastline appears, guiding me all the way home to you, children.'" Froge repeats the story to himself as he reaches the spot in question, and he does see the bay in the distance, looking calm from this distance, aside from the moonlight glittering on unseen waves. Following the narrow ravine leads Froge to a drop-off, trailing the crest of it until he has an opportunity to hop down. Making a beeline for the beach, the rest of Froge's journey is not difficult, the sea breeze and soft lapping leading him to mull over the events in town.
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NORTH-NORTHWEST OF AVENTA VELLA - AMPHIBIAN VILLAGE - LATE AFTERNOON - 36 HOURS LATER
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Narrator One and a half days of trekking since the frog left Respite Falls, the landscape East of the bay slowly shifts from sand and scarce scrub to low grass and a little more scrub, stunted by winds from the sea and offering no shade for creatures to seek shelter. This makes the way safe enough for a lone wanderer, though stray predators do occasionally find themselves at the beach, scavenging washed up fish. The beach itself transformed from smooth and sandy to rough outcroppings of grey stone, one pillar in particular a peculiar shade of blue-grey, with it's grain vertical rather than horizontal, though with no cousins nearby to hint at it's origin.
Froge approaches the odd stone , putting a webbed hand on it's cracked face. He looks up at the craggy top, a halo of cloud-blotched sunlight circling the landmark. He looked away from it, further down the shoreline where the bay poked a finger of salty water inland at high tide, a convenient arrow that pointed directly down the old river basin toward home. "Home..." With a physically exhausted croak, Froge turns toward a dark grey storm cloud in the distance, hiking his satchel up and excitedly trotting along as quick as his legs would carry him. "Home..." Pebbles and scrub grass eventually fall off into squelching mud that his big, flat feet carry him across with no problem. "Home..." The mud also falls away into shallow pools of nearly stagnant water covered in green algae, which the frog gleefully splashes through. "Home..!" This time his call echoes in the distance, though sounding distorted. "Home!" The call comes back sooner, with more echoes joining it as Froge strides into a marshland that the puddles only hinted at, bright green algae covering water that only peeks out in the occasional eddy of inconsequential springs. Trees with nests of exposed roots rise from the water, short, thick of trunk, and carrying huge, wide leaves. Below their canopy, equally proportioned ferns and single-leaved plants jab out of the water, a group of which near Froge look like they are recently cut, the hardier ferns already showing regrowth. "Home!" His croak was high, and comes back to him tenfold as heads so much like his begin poking out of holes in the mud under some trees, hidden by huge leaves plucked from the canopy above. Just as he makes his way toward the nearest one, a low rolling thunder greets him from the clouds that were drifting in over the South mountains.
Froge's eyes close tight as he throws his arm around the first frog's shoulders as they come out to greet him. The echoing calls of "Home, home, home" descend instead into a cascade of frogsong, filling the marsh just as the first heavy plops of rain descend.
Froge spends the next few days telling anyone who listens about the dry town with it's kind lizardfolk, and generous doctor, though he has a hard time convincing anyone that there could really be a 10 foot tall gentle giant that single-handedly protects them from Northern dangers. All the while, Froge sets about preparing as many large containers of firegas as he can manage to carry. He would be a good trader and do Hroat proud!