open | don't bother me


Age: 31 | Height: 5'3" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 1 - Strg: 6 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: kore Offline
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Posts: 77 | Total: 110
MP: 0
#1
Despite being fresh and new to her, the witch found her walk through the woods somewhat underwhelming, the skeletal trees a sad reality in response to her memories of a forest so vast and dense - so green. Even in the oppressively hot days of Longheat the greenery of the forests that dotted the outskirts did not impress her. Still, it was with bold curiosity that she had set out this brisk morning, in the pouch at her hip a stack of notes she'd drawn from her days spent reading what she could in the halls of the Atheneum on wildlife and herbs she might possibly encounter. Ready to take her lesson to the field, she had set before herself a simple task of acquainting herself with the woodland and perhaps correct any errors in her notes or understanding.

Quite partial to the cooler turn in temperature, Mel had no complaint in that department, and though the uneven terrain of the path she'd taken did her no favors, she bore through it with steadfast determination, though all the while appeared to be searching for something, lighting up as she crossed fallen sticks, sizing them up with a casual prowl around. Periodically she would lift one up and carefully look it over or test the weight of it, though none seemed to fit the bill quite right and were soon deposited back where they had been or nearby out from under foot.

It was one such stick discovery, however, that quickly turned the mood of the day sour as from the base of a nearby tree fallen leaves began to shift and Mel believed at once that she was being approached by a very friendly acorn squash. Springing back, she stumbled with her stick still in hand, an unwieldy thing that she would have rejected sooner had it not just become her new weapon of choice. She did not stay grounded for long, the rustling of leaves as the piles shifted away to reveal more of the green and orange gourds motivating her to at the very find her way into a crouch. With a painfully awkward swing she choked her grip up on the stick, cocked it back and took a "mighty" whack at the gourds, the flesh of a few bursting after several more hacking blows. Scrambling back several paces she used the stick to drag herself to her feet, warding the remaining handful of pesky plants away with a few warding jabs of her stick, backing clumsily toward the trail she had left for this, honestly, kind of shitty makeshift staff. "See what happened to your friends, now. Think about it." Mel's warning gave the gourds a moment of pause, raising questions about their sentience as she set foot on relatively even ground yet again.

With all the menace of a pack of kittens the gourds growled after her in chorus and approached, almost comedic in their movements as they rocked and bounced across the leaf-carpeted floor, not very fast and sort of struggling on the uneven terrain, but determined. The resemblance between herself and the gourds in that moment of observation seemed uncanny. As she cocked the makeshift staff back, she realized how absolutely pathetic they seemed to her and instead opted for a gentler option of attempting to push them off of the trail and herd them toward a gentle embankment which she was certain would keep them busy long enough for her to complete her explorations.

"Come on, don't make it more difficult than it needs to be-" Rolling haphazardly one of the gourds gave a bewildered grunt as it found itself upended, which Mel found, unfortunately, to be strangely cute, pressing a hand to her mouth to suppress a laugh. "Just get off of the path - shoo."

Yes, shoo, pesky vampire gourd. Shoo.


Age: 31 | Height: 5'3" | Race: Abandoned | Nationality: Outlander | Citizenship: Hollowed Grounds
Level: 1 - Strg: 6 - Dext: 11 - Endr: 18 - Luck: 10 - Int:
Played by: kore Offline
Change author:
Posts: 77 | Total: 110
MP: 0
#2
As the last of the remaining gourds rolled down the embankment, Mel hurriedly continued down the path, still clutching the not all that great stick. Despite feeling sorely unbalanced and the witch suspected the wood to potentially be brittle, it had a heavy end and a good length. The attack of the gourds had startled her and put her somewhat on edge to continue her woodland frolic.

From there, she mostly stuck to the path. Periodically she used the stick to steady herself though did not rely on it for the most part, carrying it balanced on her shoulder. Mel wasn't afraid of the woods - she found comfort in the density of the trees, keeping an ear and eye out for strange noises or growls of her returning accompaniment of hungry squash. This felt familiar in a way, and though difficult, it did not make her feel necessarily overwhelmed. In fact, this was nicer than Sanctuary in a way. There was something alien and upsetting about the ruins they had built a life into.

She'd knelt and gathered samples along the way, familiar shapes and colors bringing to her memories of study and years of cultivation. She dreamed of walls lined with seedlings, crushing wild aromatics between her fingers as she trailed deeper, still following the path, though when likely gaps in the trees arose, she'd turn to look at them longingly in passing. The desire to divert from the track was growing,and the scent of wild mint on her fingers made her hungry for knowledge. Scent was strong trigger for memories - what if the things she had forgotten could be recovered by some flower growing just off the beaten path?

She'd stopped, something familiar on the wind. Sniffing, dog-like, the witch drifted across the breadth of the path, trying desperately to call on her missing primal passenger. Whatever she thought she had smelled, she couldn't pick it out from the scent of the woods, not easily. Putting aside her concern about the wildlife, she closed her eyes and focused intently on her sense of smell, now standing just before a small break in the trees at the very edge, her toes touching soft loam, her heels on packed earth.

What was that?


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