Alys
Fortunately for Alys, Tal, and Boreal, the pile of fur continued to lay motionless on the snow. As Alys crept closer, it became clear why. The ursur had been fatally wounded by something that appeared much larger and stronger than it; she lay in a heap, eyes glazed over, preserved in a moment in time, as though she had only just died. Later, Alys would wonder how she knew that it was a female ursur when she hadn't investigated further, but in that moment, she knew only that the ursur had been a female, and that she had been protecting something precious to her.
It was usually difficult to get upset over the loss of an ursur. They were not known for being friendly beasts, and one too many hunters had never returned to the Citadel after an ursur attack. But Alys felt pity for the creature all the same, and her pity turned to horror as she crept around the motionless ursur to find an array of cubs splayed out in the snow. They, too, were dead, and somehow this was too much for Alys to bear. Her heart ached for their loss in a way that wasn't entirely her own, and she felt a tear freeze on her cheek as she took in the scene. "It doesn't seem fair," she told Tal, aware that she was being absurd but unable to explain why she was so affected. "They were just cubs."
It was then that a soft mewling sound made her jump and look around, and there in the snow, covered in blood but miraculously alive, was the clear runt of the litter. It had been nestled in its mother's fur, but had crept out upon hearing Alys's voice, stumbling a little over its paws as it came hesitantly nearer. Alys lowered her bow, loosening her hold on the arrow. Perhaps a more hardened hunter would have put the poor thing out of its misery - after all, there was no way it would survive out here on its own, not at that age, and not when it was that small - but Alys couldn't do it.
Instead, she found herself kneeling in the snow without a second thought, reaching out a hand towards the little ursur cub, and as its nose just brushed across her fingertips -
A cacophony of sights, sounds, smells, memories that were not her own rushed into Alys's mind. She gasped, jerking her hand away from the ursur and falling backwards into the snow. She knew, suddenly, that it had been a male ursur that had caused the carnage that surrounded them - later, upon researching further, she would find that males often killed cubs that were not their own - just as she was keenly aware of a pang of hunger that was not hers and a bone-aching chill that was out of place in her warm Deepfrost clothes.
She also realized that it was possible that the bigger, meaner male was still around.
The cub seemed to be as dazed as Alys, but as the seer shook herself and clambered to her feet, so, too, did the ursur. She pressed through the snow to Alys's feet, where she stood on her hind legs to brace her forepaws against the seer's legs in a clear request to be picked up. Alys complied readily, unzipping her parka to tuck the cub in, where she could get warm.
Now that she'd found the cub, the urge to explore the tundra was suddenly and irrevocably gone, and she was instead filled with the need to get somewhere warm and safe. "Well, this is why we came out here," Alys told Tal hurriedly, zipping her parka up around the cub and doing her best to keep hold of her bow at the same time. She wouldn't be able to fight easily now, not carrying Sascha (where the name came from, she couldn't say - it was just suddenly there in her mind, as though it had always been there). "But we should go. There's a big male somewhere, and I'd rather not tangle with him just now."
It was usually difficult to get upset over the loss of an ursur. They were not known for being friendly beasts, and one too many hunters had never returned to the Citadel after an ursur attack. But Alys felt pity for the creature all the same, and her pity turned to horror as she crept around the motionless ursur to find an array of cubs splayed out in the snow. They, too, were dead, and somehow this was too much for Alys to bear. Her heart ached for their loss in a way that wasn't entirely her own, and she felt a tear freeze on her cheek as she took in the scene. "It doesn't seem fair," she told Tal, aware that she was being absurd but unable to explain why she was so affected. "They were just cubs."
It was then that a soft mewling sound made her jump and look around, and there in the snow, covered in blood but miraculously alive, was the clear runt of the litter. It had been nestled in its mother's fur, but had crept out upon hearing Alys's voice, stumbling a little over its paws as it came hesitantly nearer. Alys lowered her bow, loosening her hold on the arrow. Perhaps a more hardened hunter would have put the poor thing out of its misery - after all, there was no way it would survive out here on its own, not at that age, and not when it was that small - but Alys couldn't do it.
Instead, she found herself kneeling in the snow without a second thought, reaching out a hand towards the little ursur cub, and as its nose just brushed across her fingertips -
A cacophony of sights, sounds, smells, memories that were not her own rushed into Alys's mind. She gasped, jerking her hand away from the ursur and falling backwards into the snow. She knew, suddenly, that it had been a male ursur that had caused the carnage that surrounded them - later, upon researching further, she would find that males often killed cubs that were not their own - just as she was keenly aware of a pang of hunger that was not hers and a bone-aching chill that was out of place in her warm Deepfrost clothes.
She also realized that it was possible that the bigger, meaner male was still around.
The cub seemed to be as dazed as Alys, but as the seer shook herself and clambered to her feet, so, too, did the ursur. She pressed through the snow to Alys's feet, where she stood on her hind legs to brace her forepaws against the seer's legs in a clear request to be picked up. Alys complied readily, unzipping her parka to tuck the cub in, where she could get warm.
Now that she'd found the cub, the urge to explore the tundra was suddenly and irrevocably gone, and she was instead filled with the need to get somewhere warm and safe. "Well, this is why we came out here," Alys told Tal hurriedly, zipping her parka up around the cub and doing her best to keep hold of her bow at the same time. She wouldn't be able to fight easily now, not carrying Sascha (where the name came from, she couldn't say - it was just suddenly there in her mind, as though it had always been there). "But we should go. There's a big male somewhere, and I'd rather not tangle with him just now."
Oh, I had a dream that you couldn't hear me screaming
Trying to tell you everything but it wouldn't stop you leaving
Trying to tell you everything but it wouldn't stop you leaving
Minor powerplay allowed without permission.
Feel free to use force/magic on Alys.
Feel free to use force/magic on Alys.
