forum Dystopian Fantasy RP aw yeah (Private)

Started May 02, 2018 by @Young-Dusty-the-Monarch-of-Dusteria group

tune

"Isn't it? I love fish." He took one for himself and savored it happily. "Man, it's good to be back on the road. We were only underground for like a day, but it feels like forever."
(brb, eating supper)

Tanrial shrugged a little, finishing off the fish, “Didn’t feel like that long to me, probably becuase you’re used to being on the road and I’m not but… we all experience things differently.”
(Okay)

"Yeah, true. I just didn't like being that far below the surface to be honest, it gave me the willies."
"I wasn't too fond of it either," Mike said, turning the spit slowly. "But at least we made it out in one piece. And now we know the basic layout of the place, as well as it's tech and the size of its army. We'll have a certain advantage when we return."

“That’s true.” Tanrial hummed in agreement, “We just need allies now.”

"Yeah. I think we have a pretty good selling point if we tell people that Ryker's planning on eliminating them from existence. We just have to get to them before Ryker finds them and feed them his lies about saving the world." Mike stretched. "I'm willing to try those fishing villages, and any other people we come across on our way. Sound good?"

Tanrial nodded, “Yeah, sounds good.”

"In that case, let's get this stuff packed up and head out. We may not have much time to lose."

“Alright.” Tanrial stood and started to help pack up the camp

They set out at noon, striking out away from the river and following a narrow deer path that ran roughly parallel to it. Mike tool the lead, stopping once in a while to make sure they weren't being watched or tailed by anything. It was a very quiet, tranquil part of the forest, however, and soon Bernon was chattering away about various adventures he'd had in the past and pointing out songbirds, pretty flowers, or odd-shaped trees. "Look at that one, that looks like a moose head. And that one looks like…..like….a porcupine."
"They all look like trees to me," Mike sighed.

“I agree with Mike, but don’t forget that Bernon has the most creative mind out of us three.”

"Awww, thanks!" Bernon beamed. "I try. I think if I'm the most creative, Mike's the most….practical? And Tanrial, you're probably like the smartest and most powerful, magically speaking."
(I have to go to bed now, seeya later!)

“True, that’s true.” She said, a smile playing on her lips.
(Seeya!)

At that moment they reached a point in the path where it veered away from where they wanted to go. Mike paused to get his bearings on the river and look for a clear way forward, while Bernon took the opportunity to readjust the straps of his backpack.
As they were about to move on, there came a small cry from the woods o their right. It sounded a little like a distressed kitten.
Bernon turned around. "Did you hear that?"

“I did, but probably best if we don’t check it out, it might be a trap.” Tanrial said, turning around and looking in the direction where the sound came.

"You're entirely correct," Mike agreed, standing on tiptoes to try and see over the bushes. "We should leave while it's still a ways off. Even if it is a baby animal, it's mother is probably right nearby."

“Yup, and mothers don’t like their children being touch or whatever so, let’s go.” Tanrial took a step backwards and turned back around, away from the bush.

They started to walk again, and at first it seemed like that would be that. But then the cry came again, plaintively. Whatever it was seemed to be following them.
Bernon glanced over his shoulder, then looked meaningfully at Mike. Mike eyed him irritably.
"What's that look for?" he asked.
Bernon just stared at him, blinking his big brown eyes pleadingly.
Mike massaged the bridge of his nose and sighed. "We're not Animal Rescue. This isn't the beginning of something wonderful. Help me here, Tanrial. Tell him to keep walking."
Their small pursuer squeaked again, louder and even more pitifully.

“No, no we can’t, Bernon. what if it’s dangerous? What if Ryker sent it? We. Can’t.” She sighed and shook her head, “Let’s keep walking.”

Bernon gave her a pained expression, but nodded. "You're probably right. Let's go."
They walked without stopping for the next hour, stubbornly refusing to look behind them. Every time the squeaking stopped, their hopes lifted. But each time, a few minutes later, they would hear the sound of something tripping through the undergrowth behind them and the cry would start up again.
Finally, Mike made an exasperated noise. "Oh for crying out loud. If Ryker did send it, we'll be leading it straight to the villages at this rate."
"Maybe," Bernon said persuasively, "it would be a good idea to investigate and get rid of it if we have to."

Tanrial rubbed her forehead and sighed before throwing her hands up in the air, “Fine! Fine, we can check it out.”

Bernon whipped around and bounded back to find the source of the noise almost before she finished speaking. He disappeared into the brush, and there was an interval in which the only sound was the rustling of branches and some alarmed squealing. Then he came back out, holding a sandy bundle of fur in his arms. "Guys, I'm really confused. This is a baby cheetah. With wings."
(brb, eating supper right quick)

“What the-“ Tanrial took a step forward, “I’ve never seen that before… ever.” She said, wide eyed.

Mike went over and took the cub from Bernon, expertly looking it over. "It's a baby forest beast. They live all over where I come from. No two look alike." He stretched out one fluffy, dust-brown wing and parted the feathers with his finger and thumb. "This one's been bitten, right here. It's pretty thin and dirty too, so it must have been out here alone for a while. There's a good chance that its mother is dead."
The cub suddenly let out a tiny growl and clamped its teeth around Mike's finger. He only barely flinched, using his other hand to firmly pry apart the tiny jaws. "They're not afraid to make you bleed, even when they're young. Bernon, get out some meat and cut it into small pieces. Tanrial, I'm gonna need some help taking care of its wing. Might as well do this right if we're gonna do it at all."

“hey buddy,”Tanrial said, taking the cub from Mike, “I wonder what hurt you?” She mused, scratching behind its ear.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Bernon asked, rummaging through his pack.
"Girl," Mike answered, sitting down and digging through his own things for a first-aid kit. "Maybe seven years old."
"Seven!? Isn't that all grown up for a cheetah?"
"These things have the same lifespans as humans do. In fact, in another year or so she'll be able to turn into a human if she wants. I'm actually surprised she isn't talking to us right now, they usually do."
The cub stared at Tanrial with wide blue eyes, her fur puffed up nervously. Her spots were faint and more brown than black, a sign of how young she still was.