Well, damn.
Sometimes having perceptive friends (or friend-adjacents, or whatever they were these days) could be a little too much of a good thing.
Jigano had beenhoping for expecting the crunch of stone against stone, and had just started to release his hold on 'his' boulder triumphantly when vines lashed out unexpectedly to wrap around him. First his muzzle, then his serpentine neck, and as he struggled, surprise and then anger building within, the vines only grew more tenacious. He landed heavily on his side, attempting to thrash and tear the vines free with muscular strength alone as his roar of outrage caught in his pinned jaws and came out a hissing growl, like a very large and angry steam kettle. A snarl tore through the Attuned bond, less words than emotions as anger flickered with fear and sparks of rage and panic as he was pinned more and more thoroughly by the insidious green tendrils.
It wasn't the first time he had been bound by vines. It had happened before, also in the basement of the Spire, that source of all nightmares. Then he had been trapped in his serpent form; smaller and less powerful.
Trapped by the Tulmhainar's magic, trying to protect her from the unknown trespassers.
He had hated it then, too, but not to the same extent. The same irrationality and rage. The trick to it on that day had been to be still. To relax and show that he meant no harm, that he was trying to help. The way the Voice had bound him had been different, a cold and casual dismissal, getting him out of the way and threatening him with worse, like a chicken bound for the dinner table. The way Remi was binding him now was more akin to the Tulmhainar's vines. He could survive that. He had before. He forced himself to breath slowly, to draw in air and remind himself that he was going to be alright. He was caught, but he wasn't helpless. He was stronger than this...
The red faded slightly from his vision as his chest grew tight, and though his jaws were shut he could still breath out, exhaling that strange tightness in a cloud of odorless gas towards Remi, instinct calling forth an ability he hadn't realized he possessed in the short time he had been in his dragon's shape. He couldn't quite overcome his emotions to make himself relax, but though he remained tense as a drawn bow he stopped trying to thrash, poised and trembling on the edge between lucidity and bestial violence once more.
Sometimes having perceptive friends (or friend-adjacents, or whatever they were these days) could be a little too much of a good thing.
Jigano had been
It wasn't the first time he had been bound by vines. It had happened before, also in the basement of the Spire, that source of all nightmares. Then he had been trapped in his serpent form; smaller and less powerful.
Trapped by the Tulmhainar's magic, trying to protect her from the unknown trespassers.
He had hated it then, too, but not to the same extent. The same irrationality and rage. The trick to it on that day had been to be still. To relax and show that he meant no harm, that he was trying to help. The way the Voice had bound him had been different, a cold and casual dismissal, getting him out of the way and threatening him with worse, like a chicken bound for the dinner table. The way Remi was binding him now was more akin to the Tulmhainar's vines. He could survive that. He had before. He forced himself to breath slowly, to draw in air and remind himself that he was going to be alright. He was caught, but he wasn't helpless. He was stronger than this...
The red faded slightly from his vision as his chest grew tight, and though his jaws were shut he could still breath out, exhaling that strange tightness in a cloud of odorless gas towards Remi, instinct calling forth an ability he hadn't realized he possessed in the short time he had been in his dragon's shape. He couldn't quite overcome his emotions to make himself relax, but though he remained tense as a drawn bow he stopped trying to thrash, poised and trembling on the edge between lucidity and bestial violence once more.
