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Post by Lethalia on Feb 27, 2020 7:07:41 GMT -6
Lethalia had lost track of the mystery rustling leaves with her field of view now filled with yellow hen, but caught the sound of them rustling once more. She wasn't worried over it, exactly, but it felt best to keep an eye on those sort of things at the mansion. There was no keeping an eye out for things if a particular henbaby was trying to make sure that she was all there was to keep an eye out for. How would mother hens punish their young? They were far less matronly than Esti had made her first assume. Hence why the crocodile squeaking; brooding hens might not guard their babies closely, but you bet she'd be there in a flash if one of them wailed. If they bothered her, she probably did just kick them out for a time. Too bad Lethalia didn't have that option. Whoops. Even if they were the center of her world, she probably needed to treat the critters less like it. Meade lv|20 ly|20 February|35
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 27, 2020 7:07:58 GMT -6
For better or worse, she didn't have time to snap at Meade before their 'lurker' in the bushes decided to make itself known. To Meade's credit, the hen hardly even flinched when something burst from the base of the nearest lilac bush, charging headlong at the pair in a brave rush. It looked like it was nothing more than a gnarl of leaves itself! Could Meade not attract enough plantlife?! The little fellow that came careening out of the thicket looked the part of a garden variety of plant; it was an entire walking rose bush, gods' sake. But his deep red blooms stuck out like a sore thumb on the lamb-like critter, making him deeply at odds with the pure lavender decor all around. Lethalia was certain there'd be more to be found if they ventured inside, but especially with little friends coming to check them out like this, she wasn't certain if they would have reason to head in anytime soon. February|36
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 27, 2020 7:08:12 GMT -6
It was strange how Meade seemed to attract the attentions of these little pocket sized pets fairly often, just like she'd found that creepy living pumpkin last time. First that black dove who hung upon a branch overhead, who was probably still watching over them. This guy though, he seemed like he was out for... well, maybe not blood, but getting these big scary things out of his area. His crashing through the underbrush was enough to startle both of them to watching his charge on over, but to the hen's credit she had gotten quite a lot less flinchy than she had originally been when they started their mansion adventures. Lethalia still kept a steadying hand on Meade's back as the creature cruised on over at a full-tilt run, careening recklessly into her shin and bouncing off rather painlessly. Of course the hatchling wanted to check out the moving rosebush, stat. "More friends, little'un?" she asked, even as the rosy lamb was headbutting Meade's nose, tail twitching furiously. February|37
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 27, 2020 7:08:22 GMT -6
Little as Meade usually cared about errant small creatures, this one encapsulated her immediately. It let out something akin to an angry squealing bleat when Meade set to thoroughly sniffing (and probably lipping) the living rosebush until she was content with her inspection of him. No protests the creature put up was going to deter her, Lethalia just hoped she wouldn't be squishing the poor little dear. At least this would be one critter that may be holding Meade's attention for quite some time. Curious where it had come from, though. Lethalia poked her head around the corner that the rosebush lamb had come from, where that pesty black dove coo'ed at her again. If the place wanted to point her in the right direction, apparently it had it's ways. More lilacs as far as the eye could see - they were eternal, as far as she could figure her life was going to be lilacs from here on out. In a circular clearing though, sat a regal looking hope chest, perhaps even in wait for her. February|38
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 27, 2020 7:08:34 GMT -6
This was the only place she could stumble across a hope chest, in broad daylight, out here in the middle of an extravagant lilac bush thicket that may well be a maze. Most of those things were only found here, in fact. "It's from the mansion," she mumbled her thoughts to Meade, who seemed made bold enough by her talking to approach. "Lookit this! I'd kill 'ta meet the master that carved this'un." Fingers smoothed over the carved wood, tracing around the winding bends of a snake which rippled over the lid of the hope chest. Faint impressions of scales could be felt when she felt the snake, but they were so subtle they hardly showed to the eye. Within each loop the snake's body made, clusters of roses in various states of bloom. They felt sturdy to the touch, and were certainly wood, but the life given to the delicate petals even made Meade take a look. February|39
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 27, 2020 7:08:45 GMT -6
In the back of her mind, the person who was once a trader swore up and down about leaving the hope chest behind. It was easily heirloom quality with it's lovely grain of wood and glassy smooth finish, and someone just left it sitting out here! There was part of her, too, that might have even tried to make off with it if she had a large enough beast of burden along with her. That day would not be today, and the satyr had to remain satisfied with the oddities within. The hope chest, after all, would be quite a large gift from the mansion. When the heavy door whinged open, it contained just as much of an eclectic mixture of treasures as the satyr had expected. Ornate serpents decorating picture frames and wreaths, studded by more foiled glasswork roses, a delicate tea set inexplicably siting among it all. "Not bad for t'day, huh Meade?" she couldn't help but remark to the hen looming over her shoulder. She'd given the hen enough of a romp to not feel all that bad about heading out. Meade lv|21 ly|21 February|40
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Post by Renathan on Feb 27, 2020 9:29:14 GMT -6
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:51:51 GMT -6
Not a bad day's adventure for, yet again, never setting food inside of the building - and she would keep it that way for as long as she could. Not only did she still find houses unsettling, but of course this one had to be the kind with magic steeped deep into it's foundation. No thanks. Meade seemed to be happier out here anyway. That was that, Lethalia supposed as she got the last of the mansion's little treasures from the hope chest and laying them out in the grass next to her hooves. It was a little funny - you always heard about adventurers finding chests either full of treasure, or a hungry maw and rows of teeth. Thus far it had become a joke to her and others who actually did adventure from time to time - why hadn't they found those supposedly copious chests laying around in the wilderness, just waiting for their discovery? February|41
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:52:09 GMT -6
The fact that she finally found an elusive treasure chest, even if it was slightly more expected around here, plastered a satisfied smirk on her face. Even if it was more to be expected here with the magic antics, but it was quite satisfying having never found some cutpurse's real abandoned treasure chest in the forest. Next best thing. Meade had followed her around the corner lest she get abandoned again, the strangely aggressive living rosebush trailing behind her, feinting attacks at her swinging tail. The hen had probably lost interest in the little guy once he proved to be more creature than plant. "Good work today, little'un," she crooned to Meade, even if the hen hadn't really done much work at all. The sarane had done better than she'd been expecting though, and was growing a little braver by the day. Might never be the boldest of them, but the least she could do was to get Meade to stop jumping at every shadow. February|42
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:52:23 GMT -6
"That little dude is probably stayin' with 'ya forever, ain't he?" she asked, wiggling her fingers at the rosebush still following Meade. It's leafy ears gave a furious twitching, rearing up on it's hind legs before charging at her moving fingers, a heatbutt that clearly used all of his body weight. It was easily avoided - all she had to do was pick up her hands - but giggled at the pocket pet's vigor anyway. "Meade could learn a thing or two from 'ya." At least she could think of someone who would love him, a living red rosebush would be perfect. Alright. Enough just sitting in the grass, time to be on their way. Lethalia patted Meade's nose to ensure she was enough out of the way, nudging the lid of the hope chest to fall shut. The hinges creaked about the heavy wood top, setting the satyr's ears ringing with the force it slammed shut with. February|43
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:52:39 GMT -6
Wincing and raising her hands to her ears, Lethalia hat do admit she might have closed the chest with a little more force than had been necessary. But why were her ears still ringing? The pitch and whine felt like it would be enough to make her sick, soon. Through squinted eyes she looked to see if Meade was similarly affected, but the hen seemed to only be curious about why her owner-hen-mother was acting so strangely all of a sudden. The yellow muzzle in her face probably wasn't going to help things a whole lot, even if she was just wanting to help. Being one of the only living creatures Meade had showed an interest in was flattering, but incredibly unhelpful right now. Setting her jaw against the pain, she urged herself to her hooves, trying desperately to see if there was anything nearby that she could see as the source. February|44
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:53:31 GMT -6
She was sorry that she slammed the hope chest closed, okay mansion? Pieces of the puzzle slid into place, and the satyr sighed to herself. When Esti was little, she'd managed to find a magical crystal here with her. It vibrated deeply with power, and even though it was clearly an item that could be held in her hand, the color of it was elusive - almost as though it were hollow on the inside. That one had hurt her head, too. Aversion to magic didn't seem common around these parts with so many people seeking it out, but it had always itched her skin and made her teeth hurt when she walked by a trader with magical goods. Holding them in her hands tingled. Clearly those crystals were a more... pure form of magic. The speed in which a hazy migraine aura dance on the edges of her vision told that one might be very close indeed. Meade lv|22 ly|22 February|45
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:54:40 GMT -6
Being a magic-seeker didn't entirely appeal to her, but the pull of the crystals tended to dissipate once she had them in her sights. As though all they really wanted was to be discovered. Lethalia had no wanting to be drawn towards magic like this, no idea why it sang so deeply to her bones when it repulsed her. Such were mysteries of life, but it would be nice if the burden was given to someone who actually would actually make use of tapping it's power. "C'mon Meade, let's get this over with," she gritted out to the hen, not pleased that she got to go on a magic hunt instead of going home. Those were somewhat opposite options among the rankings of 'things she would like to do at any point in time.' Animals tended to be sensitive to magic as well, so perhaps the hen would help her out somehow. Meade did keep surprising her in little ways, after all. February|46
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:55:24 GMT -6
The treasures she'd found, more like small love tokens from the mansion eve if she wasn't their intended recipient, would be fine laying here in the meantime. Even if they went missing the items wouldn't really be missed aside from their trading value; the magic buzz promised more. It was inexplicable why she wanted whatever was calling her, but she could tell herself whatever magic was reaching out to her would trade well, crystals or something else. Hopefully crystals - those at least seemed predictable. The satyr didn't entirely feel up to dealing with the 'other' it could be. Meade's tail gave a happy lash as Lethalia bent over took up her forgotten trailing leash, pleased her owner had gotten up again. She wasn't going to fend for herself out here or anything like that! Sure was moving slow for how sure footed her surrogate mama usually was, that was strange. Inhaling deeply, it was difficult for the young hen to tell if she smelled any different with the cloud of lilacs around them. February|47
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Post by Lethalia on Feb 29, 2020 22:55:50 GMT -6
"Gonna help me, Meade?" she asked the hen, trying to keep her voice lively for the hen's sake. There was a short chuffing noise in response as Meade headbutted up against her leg again, and the woman was going to take it as something close to a 'yes' as she was going to get. It was nice to have a partner in this, even if the sarane didn't get much of a choice in the matter of coming along for the ride. Taking a pace forward, she gave pause when the high-pitched whine lessened. Experimentally, and much to Meade's chagrin, Lethalia reversed her step to listen to the pitch slowly increase, and another to find it increase further. Fingers twitched to cover her ears against the sound, but it wouldn't shield her from the tinnitus-like ringing deep in her head. Self-preservation would ask she didn't turn into the pain, but at least it was bearable for now. February|48
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