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Post by Beak on Jun 24, 2024 22:29:56 GMT -5
This brings Beak to the most unexpected, most peculiar, and hardest to swallow part of this encounter. She expected to learn much about the Frostbitten from the first time she engaged them, yes, and she has; they're even faster than she is unless slowed down, but have no intelligence whatsoever beyond the basic instinctual drive to attack. This is all good to know; she already feels like she'll be more prepared for the next group they encounter than she was for this one, and this one went... well, perfectly; she confirms that by looking around and making sure none of the others were hurt. The Frostbitten hadn't even troubled them enough to wake the babies, and Beak is still thinking of them in terms of being more ready, hopefully able to fare better against them next time.
But... this part. This part truly surprises her, enough that she has to air her question aloud rather than pondering to herself as she had been.
"They don't... stop? Ever?" She asks as she takes the babies and gently positions them back in their nest, back inside her, back where it's warm and hopefully safe. "I was expecting to... finish them, somehow, to send them back from whence they came... but we really just... cripple them until they can't come after us anymore and then just leave?"
A part of her feels an immense sorrow for whoever these pour souls used to be, cursed to wander eternally like this, but... no, they're not wandering. Their souls have nothing to do with this. Whoever they were, they rest peacefully among the stars now. This is little more than someone else's dark magic moving what's left of their bodies around, and has as little to do with them as it would had the magic been puppeteering, say, constructs of wood or stone instead.
"... And this," she observes, as she relaxes and disengages from her fighting posture and turns to resume the trek forward, "is why I said that most of this family may be undead, but none of us are kakk nis darsak."1
1 "Those who flood the margins" or "Margin-walkers." The Ibekki word for undead, implying that they attempt to keep writing, keep cramming more into the margins of a page that has already filled and ended.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 24, 2024 23:22:43 GMT -5
Rena chuckles softly, idly cracking her neck as she walks alongside her girlfriend, “...yeah…everything’s like that. The Frostbitten are just - hold on,” the lich stops for a moment, plucking a skittering hand from the back of Beak’s cloak and crushing it in her grasp as her eye lights scan the family’s surroundings, “...there’s an Iceweaver1 nearby. We need to move,” and with that, the little family sets off, an idle mental command from the lich having her minions of roiling shadow reduce the crawling Frostbitten to as fine a powder as they can manage…no sense in making things easy for one of the two kinds of creatures that can turn a small group of Frostbitten into a credible threat, after all…
…as the group treks through the frigid wasteland, the ruins of the Razorbeak compound growing closer…but instead of entering, instead of taking the opportunity to rest and shelter from the wind, Rena guides them around it with a muttered, “...not going to be worth the effort of clearing. It’d just slow us down and burn through our energy…” …Rena’s satchel may have infinite storage space, but they’d still only been able to pack a month or so’s worth of food and water…and they’d burned through a decent chunk of that even after supplementing it with hunting and foraging…
The children keep close, eyes and eyelights watching their surroundings with a newfound wariness, while the hatchlings let out soft peeps in their sleep…
1 - out of every hundred or so Frostbitten, one has the ability to remotely manipulate and reshape the bodies of itself and its fellows. Dubbed 'Iceweavers', these creatures possess an innate instinct for the specific modifications that would be most detrimental to the horde's prey, but require line of sight to perform their modifications...
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Post by Beak on Jun 24, 2024 23:44:48 GMT -5
Just as Beak is... trying to learn to trust the rest of the family when they seem less concerned about a battle they're in than she does--if they're acting like everything is easily under control, then it probably is--so too is she trusting when any potential threat actually breaks through that confidence and causes a sense of alarm. Beak has no idea what an Iceweaver is, but if Rena is afraid of it, if even she says they need to move... well, then, they need to move.
This is also why she makes no protestations whatsoever at the decision to avoid the Razorbeak ruins. Her guides on this expedition would know far better than she would, and that explanation... makes perfect sense, yes.
It doesn't serve them well to fight their way through every encounter in the Valley, even if all of them prove as easy as the pack of Frostbitten has been (which, given Rena's trepidation, Beak already knows they won't.) If they were enemy guards that had gold or usable equipment on them, or even beasts that could be harvested for meat after the battle, then maybe, but engaging every Frostbitten they see does nothing but slow them down and tire them out. If the ruins will cost them more than they gain to clear, then... yes. Best to avoid them, then.
In fact, Beak trusts her guides so strongly that the only question she has in return at all, more or less the entire day, only comes after they've traveled long enough to have need of rest again. As the group is breaking, Beak turns not just to Rena, but to all of her datemates... to talk strategy.
"I would... know more of what we're up against, if you're willing to share. Rena wanted us to run earlier because there was an Iceweaver nearby... I don't know what an Iceweaver is, and if it had found us, I wouldn't have been prepared to face it because I wouldn't have known its capabilities. Let alone... everything else; there are more than just Frostbitten and Iceweavers out there, aren't there? And not knowing every enemy in this Valley is... a disadvantage, and one I would like to address as much as I can. It would be my eternal shame if I made any mistakes, if I failed you in any subsequent battles because I was... surprised."
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 25, 2024 0:21:25 GMT -5
The lich hums softly, tilting her head in thought as she spends a long moment dredging up the years old memories before softly speaking, “...the two most immediate threats are Shardminds and Iceweavers. Not due to their own combat abilities, but because they make standard Frostbitten more dangerous; Iceweavers vary wildly in appearance, and are able to remotely alter the body of any Frostbitten they have line of sight on - I only realized there was one nearby because the hand on your cloak had its fingers split to gripping feet,” she pauses, then, sniffing the frigid air and sighing, “...and then there’s the Shardminds. They…don’t really look like much more than bare skeletons, since most of their mass is typically divided amongst the Frostbitten under their control…and that control means actual strategy and coordination. Either is bad, but both is far worse, since an Iceweaver with a piece of a Shardmind in its head doesn’t need line of sight to modify the other members of the Shardmind’s swarm. Aside from that…” she lets out a soft trill, “...there’s the Glacier Spikes, which I’m fairly sure were created from the bodies of trolls. They’re lumbering and mindless, but their regeneration doesn’t stop until a good five seconds after a given wound has been mended, with the excess forming jagged growths of ice…I saw one once that had been rendered immobile by the sheer weight of its own mass…Frostspinners are the remains of the giant spiders that more prosperous clans used to farm. The ones made from adults weren’t much of a threat…and then the nurseries froze over and the eggs hatched into little things of clear, razor sharp ice. Part of the reason we’re not going into any ruins other than the Archives; every major compound had at least one arachnid nursery…and keep in mind that the things that tore out of those eggs are each the size of your fist, with legs that may as well end in knives, and the ice they’re made of is too clear to see unless you know what to look for. And they never come in numbers less than a dozen,” …and then she lets out a soft, almost resigned sigh, “...and then there’s the Hunters. You’ve actually seen one of those before, back in Sol City, though that one is...unusually snuggly”
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Post by Beak on Jun 25, 2024 1:14:02 GMT -5
"I... ah... t-the Hunter I met in Sol City was... rather fetching, yes. Perhaps we could... er... some other time...."
The elder skeleton's feeling so flushed all the sudden that the sensation of heat is almost enough to warm the others in this otherwise undending cold. It's almost cute, but... now is not the time, and she knows that.
"Ice... spiders. Fist sized... ice spiders." Beak is dead. She could face down a hive of wasps without fear at this point, because there's simply nothing left to sting. The worst they could do to her is disorient her with the loud buzzing if they get inside her skull. Ice spiders, though. Nearly invisible ice spiders. Why...?
"... Yes. No ruins besides the Archives. Agreed. And... we'll keep eyes out even when there."
As for the rest of the foes she's likely to face in this frozen hellscape... well, there's little she can do but nod. She certainly isn't going to change the nature of what she's up against by complaining about it. And... well, at least she knows. Each of these would have been potentially deadly surprises, but... now she can ponder each one. Now she can prepare strategies... or, so she hopes.
Let's see... prioritize avoiding combat in the first place if possible; there's simply nothing to gain and everything to lose from engaging. If it's unavoidable, though... take out the Iceweavers and Shardminds first, try to... hmm. Perhaps topple the Glacier Spikes, fight them while they're downed? Hmm....
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 25, 2024 1:59:23 GMT -5
“...the Archive Nursery was burned to the ground a long time ago, and my clan made a point of keeping the last Archivist’s Key hidden away,” Nev murmurs, “there won’t be anything in there that wasn't there before Fimbulwinter. Once we’re inside, the only danger is going to be our limited food supplies,” those cobalt eyes dance with amusement as the wraith glances at Rena, the raven smirking at a private joke of some sort…and if Beak listens very carefully to the Message link between herself and the inky corvid, she might catch the slightest glimpse of a slender, tapering rod of dark material inlaid with silver…
Rena and Bell smirk, “...ah, so we’re finally goin’ t’ to find out what this mysterious key is, then?” Rena’s comment elicits an amused trill from the wraith of ink and starlight, “...oh, most certainly…shouldnae be too hard t’ get, either…jus’ have t' get it back from where I left it…”
The children glance between their Mom and their Bab’sk with curious eyes and querying chirps, though Nev just shakes their head with another amused trill, “...oh, ye’ll jus’ have t’ wait, lort’yrlr s’no...” much to the annoyed groans and trills of the children in question.
…the hatchlings shift a little within Beak’s ribcage, their tiny hands unconsciously gripping at Beak’s ribs and clutching at the blankets and cushions that make up their nest…
...the little family treks deeper into the Valley of Crows, and the Valley's residents shift and stir in their wake, the Frostbitten lurching upright and beginning to shamble in search of those who would dare disturb the frozen wasteland, the Shardminds watching through the eyes of their thralls, the Iceweavers twisting and warping themselves and the Frostbitten around them into forms better suited for the coming hunt, the Frostspinners chittering to eachother within the ruined compounds they've turned into their nests, the Glacier Spikes pushing themselves to their feet and beginning to lumber through the Valley once again, the Hunters hissing and snapping at the air with cracked, jagged beaks as they dart through the leafless forests and snow-buried fields...
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Post by Beak on Jun 25, 2024 2:18:07 GMT -5
Shouldn't be too hard. Just have to get the key from right where Nev left it. Simple and easy. What could possibly go wrong?
Why does Beak somehow not feel particularly reassured about this?
... Nevertheless, she just... keeps marching. The most motivated she'd seen Rena to move, quickly was when she realized there was an Iceweaver somewhere in the area... but for Beak, she seems to be at her most urgent when all is clear. The more distance they can cover before anything attacks them again, after all... well, the sooner they'll be to the Archives, which she can only hope will be as safe as promised.
She's in a somewhat peculiar situation with the dwindling supplies in that, technically speaking, those don't affect her at all. She doesn't eat, she doesn't drink... they could be completely out of food, and she wouldn't even notice. But the others would, and they above everything else--even the Ibekki, even the very reason she wanted to come here in the first place--are her top priority. If anything happens to even a single one of them....
Which means that the babies peeping inside her--as... peculiar as it feels to have them grip and squeeze clumsily at her ribcage from inside--are her concern every bit as much as they are Rena's. If the supplies don't hold, then they starve. Then all the living chicks starve... perhaps all of the family, living or undead, if Rena herself needs sustenance to maintain the magic that keeps the others going.
Images of Beak wandering this cursed eternal winter alone after losing everyone else are... not something she particularly wishes to dwell on, at present, or... ever.
So... yes. Let them make haste before anything tries to stop them again.
... Or so she would say, were it not close to time to make camp for the evening anyway.
But... in general.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 25, 2024 3:09:57 GMT -5
It’s only a few minutes later that they begin to make camp, Rena spinning up a pair of abyssal apparitions to help set up the tents and the nests within before the children pile into one, softly chirping and trilling to each other as they bury themselves within the nest of blankets and cushions to hide from the chill, Loci pausing to close the entry flap to the children’s tent before joining his siblings in their little nest…
…the Lich glances around, shining eye lights scanning the dark surroundings before settling on a glint just behind a nearby tree and burning to that cold, caustic white as she stalks forward, frost crackling on her feathers and fog jetting from her beak as she lets out an angry hiss, ”...these ones are mine. Do what you will with others who find this place, but touch that which is mine and lose the hand that reaches”
That glint shifts to the side, revealing another mere inches to the…side…no, not a glint of reflected light, but a pair of frozen orbs that shine dully from within. Their owner creeps forward, jagged beak clicking and ragged, frost riddled feathers feathers puffing out as it lets out a rattling hiss, ”...you are no Guide, Elder One. you gave that up when you chose to run, when you chose to hide, when you chose to be weak. You claim these prey as yours? Then pro-” the Hunter is cut off when a pair of flaming feather-blades slam into the its frozen eyes, piercing through and into its skull, the flaming filigree1 spreading from the points of impact and searing into its feathers and frozen flesh…and the Hunter screams, clutching and tugging at the blades lodged in its skull as the frost holding its head together melts and evaporates under the intense heat, leaving the thing’s cranium smoldering and melting.
Rena watches it die with impassive white eyes before retrieving her blades as she murmurs, "...my family are no one's prey, slave of the Hag,", she cleans those blades with a cloth and slips them back up her sleeves as she turns her back on the burning corpse and returns to camp, nodding to her summons as she passes them, her eye lights fading back to silver and a smile ruffling the feathers around her beak.
1 - Cold Touch, Elemental Mastery (Fire)
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Post by Beak on Jun 25, 2024 4:43:33 GMT -5
Beak, meanwhile, is helping to set up the camp, keeping the chicks nestled inside her ribcage warm, exchanging jokes and stories with the rest of the family as they sit around a circular gathering to unwind and enjoy each other's company... and then she hears the shriek of that Hunter and she's on her feet so fast she has to check and make sure the chicks with in are still all right, that she didn't jostle them with that sudden jump. They're fine, fortunately, but... Rena!But... when she turns toward her girlfriend, the fight was already over before it even began. Rena just... took that hunter out, easily enough that she didn't even need to call for help or anything--that scream was definitely the Hunter's, not Rena's. Which. Good. Any enemy that's a non-issue is better than an enemy that's a serious threat, that could have brought anyone in this family to harm in any way. They got off light this time, and she's thankful for that. She knows she is. And she is.But... There's a part of her that can't help but think back to the first battle she fought alongside the Blackfeather clan. They had taken her for some... some bystander, told her to stay where she was and stay safe while they handled the menace. "...I'd advise that ye stay here, unless ye think ye can keep up."Has that what she's been doing... not just in that battle, but every time they've fought alongside one another ever since? Just trying her meager best to keep up?If she'd stayed home... the rest of the clan likely could have handled those Frostbitten from earlier in the day. Rena handled the Hunter all by herself. And sure, she'd gotten the finishing blow against that "dragon" terrorizing Sol City, but it's not like she was the only one who could have. They... they had that situation under control, in truth. The best she could say about that day is that she at least pulled her own weight, at least didn't get in over her head and end up causing them more trouble for having to save her or anything. She was just... "she was there, too" is roughly how she would describe the whole affair. Is that her fate..? She doesn't want to turn the rest of her family into something weaker, something that she would have to protect. It's an immense relief, if anything, that they can fend for themselves so effectively. She's grateful beyond words that Rena wasn't in enough danger to have needed any help. She'd never wish more danger upon anyone. It's just... it's hard not to feel like... well, like an extra block of ice someone had packed and brought along to a journey here. It's not that extra supplies--or extra help--would ever hurt to have around, one supposes, but.... Useless. Useless. Useless.Yes. That. Thank you. A telepathic sigh-equivalent... Beak didn't have demons or eldritch abominations speaking and tormenting her from within; that was all her. Her own intrusive thoughts are more than capable of sowing as much self-doubt as she needs without anyone else's help. Perhaps she wouldn't feel so inadequate if things had been... different, all those millennia ago. As it stands, though, there is simply no denying the obvious: Every time Beak sees herself, every time she looks down and sees bone instead of flesh, every time she hears the young ones peep from inside her ribcage, every time she uses a Message spell instead of speaking like she once could... why is that? Oh, it's because she's dead. And why is she dead, hmm? Oh! Could it be because she died? A fascinating theory, that! And how did she die, again...? You had one duty. One duty. And you failed. And now you're here... what, to try to erase that failure, somehow? You think that if you slay a beast ferocious enough that even your family is impressed, you'll be forgiven? Even if you could bring them the head of the Hag herself on a plate tomorrow morning, do you think it will bring your people back? Or are you just going to get yourself, them, and everyone you know killed in some vainglorious attempt to show off? Again?Beak froze. Normally she was good at letting the intrusive thoughts roll over her... there, hurtful for a moment, then gone again. That one... actually had a point about something, though. She needs to be more careful. If she doesn't get her head on straight, and she keeps going into battle struggling to hold back tears over the thought that this could be her redemption, then she is going to make a fatal mistake, no matter how capable her istirii may be.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 25, 2024 5:42:01 GMT -5
…and then Rena is there, wrapping her arms and wings around her girlfriend as she nuzzles under Beak’s jaw with a soft, affectionate trill…there were no footsteps, no crunch of snow under avian feet1, no warning beyond the disturbance of the air against the skeleton’s bones just before Rena was nestling close…she’s shivering a little, that familiar anxiety tingeing the edges of her mind - that could’ve been her, she almost became one of those things - as she presses against Beak…
Bell trills softly, a small smile around his beak as he nestles against Beak and Rena, those amber eyes slowly drifting shut as he chirps affectionately and slowly relaxes, wisps of smoke wafting off the specter and dissolving in the air…
…Nev lets out a soft hum, nestling against Beak’s other side and idly nibbling at the skeleton’s cloak as they purr softly…
...the little peepers nestle against each other behind Beak's ribs, Hum's beak winding up tucked under Chimes'...
…out in the darkness, the smoldering body of the Hunter twitches once, twice, three times…and then lurches to its feet, newly empty eye sockets glaring balefully out at the little family for a long moment before the thing disappears into the shadows of the forest…
1 - Silent Step
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Post by Beak on Jun 25, 2024 5:57:22 GMT -5
The elder skeleton... didn't think she was telepathically broadcasting her own little inner turmoil, there. It wouldn't be the first time this week she'd left the Message spell on by complete accident, to be fair. She's... rather bad with that, actually; fifty years of never having anyone around for her targets to matter makes for a habit that's hard to unlearn.
Still, she is at least reasonably certain that cuddling isn't just for her, even if the timing could not have been more coincidentally perfect. Rena's been having a tough time out here, as well--emotionally, at least, if not... in actual danger of losing a battle that any of them have been in yet--and this is probably just her needing someone right now, too. They all do... the only ones in this entire party who haven't been feeling out of sorts since they arrived in this cursed land are a certain pair of peepers who are likely too young to comprehend it.
"... Love you, istir." She holds her girlfriend close and tight, so much so that even Rena can feel the warmth from those heatstones left hanging inside Beak for the little ones, too. That... for as long as they've been together and as close as they've gotten, that tone is telltale;/ that's the tone when Beak isn't feeling at her best either, but has decided that tending to you first is far, far more important and that she's fine by comparison, truly. "How are you faring?" She's been asking that question several times per day, at this point, but she never stops wanting to check. Besides... she's got the other two doting on her, now, the group hug turning into soft and distinctly pleasant nibbling once Nev gets involved. Hard for Beak to stay down for long with that kind of affection.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 25, 2024 6:21:02 GMT -5
“...tired,” Rena sighs softly, resolutely not looking back at the place that the Hunter had previously occupied as she trills her affection, “...stars, but I love you, ka’to’bi...” she sighs softly, seeming almost resigned, “...not lookin’ forward t’ havin’ t’ deal with that, though. Hunters ‘re always a pain…” the lich glares out into the darkness over Beak’s shoulder, her eye lights boring into the dully shining orbs of another of the Hunters surrounding their little camp, “...’n that one’s goin’ t’ be holdin’ a grudge for a long while, too…” then she grimaces, “...right, I didnae give ye the deets on the Hunters, did I…” the crow pulls away a little, tilting her head slightly as she nestles into Beak’s lap, “...alright. Hunters are…” she gulps a little, taking a steadying breath before speaking once more, “...Hunters aren’t made by just leaving bodies out in the cold. They…the Hag makes ‘em personally. Rips people’s hearts out an’ slots in a fist sized lump o’ black ice ‘fore closin’ ‘em back up…” the lich shudders a little. She still remembers dying on that table, only to wake up with an orb of gnawing ice where her heart used to be…alright, enough of that. Even if she probably won’t be sleeping tonight, this lich needs to be held in a cozy little nest…and she rather suspects that her girlfriend needs it too. With that in mind, the crow pulls away, gently grasping Beak’s hands and tugging the skeleton to the tent, her bondmates following and closing the tent flap behind them…
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Post by Beak on Jun 25, 2024 6:56:52 GMT -5
It doesn't take long for the elder skeleton to connect the pieces... to realize that 1) Rena has a Hunter form, 2) the Hunters are made personally by the Hag ripping out their hearts, and 3) Rena is obviously troubled when describing this process, as if painful memories are resurfacing.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh...
"Oh, Rena..."
... There are strategic considerations and pre-planning before Beak finds herself on the wrong end of a Hunter's wrath, of course. Strengths and weaknesses, what to do when faced with one... but she chases those thoughts away for now. Right now, the only thing that matters is that her istir needs comfort, and... well, that she can do. That... the love, the nurturing, the holding close and keeping her beloved as warm as she's keeping the chicks... that, she can do.
Would that this moment of warmth, of love, could last forever... even in the otherwise frozen hells surrounding them, even as there doesn't seem to be a shred of happiness to be found anywhere else in this Gods-forsaken realm, the feeling of love and support between her and her family, the way they huddle close as each attempts to shield the other from the cold and darkness both without and within... well. If this ended up being the moment, the one feeling that lasted for the rest of eternity... Beak could certainly think of worse ones.
But it wasn't, of course. Time continued to advance, the warm hug turned into sleep, and... the less said about that night's dreams, the better.
When morning comes once more, the situation, what exactly happened is not immediately clear, but for two very obvious and notable facts.
One, something felt... wrong at some point in the night. It's gone now, whatever it was, but for a moment there there was... something. Something like a sound, or perhaps just a feeling... a dread presence. Something more than just being watched by the Hunters surrounding their tents.
Two, Beak has woken up weeping for the first time since the Blackfeathers met her, that first night she spent... not-alone, when she'd been so broken up about not wanting to end the day for fear of waking up alone again.
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Post by Rena Brighteyes on Jun 25, 2024 15:25:31 GMT -5
…when Beak wakes, she finds herself held on either side by her spectral datemates, Nev and Bell softly snoozing as they nestle in, the skeleton’s head resting on something soft and…Rena’s eye lights shine down at her skeletal girlfriend, the lich letting out a soothing trill as she notices Beak’s rousing, “...easy there, love…you’re safe. We’ve got you. I’m not going t’ let anything happen if’n I can help it…” Rena trills softly, gently stroking Beak’s cheeks as though wiping away tears…
…Bell and Nev slowly stir as Beak weeps, chirping softly and gently nibbling at the skeleton’s muzzle in an effort to bring some comfort to their girlfriend as they press close…
…and then the children pile into the tent, chirping and trilling worriedly as they swarm their not-yet-parent…
…miles away, in the depths of a ruined temple to a forgotten god, cracked lips spread in a crooked grin, stained and jagged teeth glinting in the dim light of the braziers as shifting, kaleidoscopic eyes stare out toward the distant family and a soft, elderly voice murmurs, “...so, the prodigal children return with guests…such delicious misery, even after all this time…” the Hag chuckles to herself, turning her swirling eyes toward a particular jar on a nearby shelf…
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Post by Beak on Jun 25, 2024 20:57:14 GMT -5
"I-I... I'm sorry... stars above, I am so sorry... all of you...."
Last time Beak was in such a state, it was because she was so unused to waking up anything but alone and forgotten, and years--decades of misery caught up with her once she finally, finally had other shoulders to cry on besides her own.
"I should have... I should... I should be holding you, keeping you aloft now. I shouldn't be the one needing...."
This time... the comfort helps, having her family there helps so much, but... that isn't the problem.
"B-but it's not even just that. That's bad enough, but... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry... all of you... I'm so sorry...."
Right. This... may take a few moments, with her as worked up as she is, to collect herself enough to get back to the part where she explains what this is even about.
"Stars, I... s-sorry...."
She's slowly getting there, but her voice is shaky, a deep, primal fear overtaking her.
"Gods above, hells below, I saw her. The Hag. The Hag. I... you... you never told me what the Hag herself looked like... and now you don't have to. That was her, there was no mistaking it. She... appeared last night as I slept, in my dreams... but this was no dream. She came to me, I'm sure of it...."
Well. That would explain what that intangible-yet-noticeable feeling of something wrong last night was all about, then.
"She knows we're here. She sees us. She's watching our every move, now. And that alone is terrifying enough, but...."
Deep breaths... sort of. Not really; she still doesn't breathe. But she'd be absolutely hyperventilating now, if she did... and her voice is still broken as if in search of something, some equivalent of breath to steady herself between her words.
"But that's not even the worst part. She... she offered me a deal...."
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