( daylight is dangerous. it is, undoubtedly, the time of the day to travel. the bright skies create a disadvantage too hefty to ignore, allowing the monsters that soar in the clouds above with the advantage of a clear view of the ground. common practice was to travel underneath the safety of the night, stepping between shadows to mask your presence, but occasionally exceptions had to be made.
a massive had been received earlier that morning, penned in fine ink, that had summoned monriila with extreme urgency to a particular village on the outskirts of the forest. it was a place she frequently, peddling out potions and salves she had crafted because they lacked any formal sort of clinic. some of the smaller villages didn't usually have a healer they could turn to, relying on potions and the most basic understanding of first aid. when they were out of their depth, they sent for monriila. in most cases, she arrived swiftly.
today she would not.
somewhere along the way, between resting at one village and camping in the forest, monriila had heard a scream. while she wasn't particularly inclined to chase blood in the water, she couldn't ignore something like that. at the very least, it was worth a look. the injury in the mountain village would have to wait just a little longer.
there are more sounds as she dashes off towards the direction of the original scream—a snapping beak, strong wings, and shrill battle cry. it must be a bird. flightless? it wouldn't be this much of a struggle otherwise.
by the time she arrives, all monriila can see of the bird is its bright tail feathers as it retreats off between the trees. in its wake, there is only one victim: a cat woman who looks like she'd just escaped from a gladiator's pit. had she truly fought that thing? she was lucky to be alive! )
[It was all she could have done to not lose any limbs to the terrorbird, honestly. She was hunched over the thing, spitefully yanking feathers out of it by the fistful. Cracking them under her hands made them useless, but as the thing seized and writhed from its lethal dose of poison from biting this strange woman it could put up no further fight.
Mae's hackles raised at the sound of another voice, and she glared, tensing up to run. Oh-- a rabbit. Mae wiped at the blood running down her head from the gash hidden in her thick hair, wary.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
the first;
a massive had been received earlier that morning, penned in fine ink, that had summoned monriila with extreme urgency to a particular village on the outskirts of the forest. it was a place she frequently, peddling out potions and salves she had crafted because they lacked any formal sort of clinic. some of the smaller villages didn't usually have a healer they could turn to, relying on potions and the most basic understanding of first aid. when they were out of their depth, they sent for monriila. in most cases, she arrived swiftly.
today she would not.
somewhere along the way, between resting at one village and camping in the forest, monriila had heard a scream. while she wasn't particularly inclined to chase blood in the water, she couldn't ignore something like that. at the very least, it was worth a look. the injury in the mountain village would have to wait just a little longer.
there are more sounds as she dashes off towards the direction of the original scream—a snapping beak, strong wings, and shrill battle cry. it must be a bird. flightless? it wouldn't be this much of a struggle otherwise.
by the time she arrives, all monriila can see of the bird is its bright tail feathers as it retreats off between the trees. in its wake, there is only one victim: a cat woman who looks like she'd just escaped from a gladiator's pit. had she truly fought that thing? she was lucky to be alive! )
Looks like you bested it.
( she offers, voice gentle, as she approaches. )
no subject
Mae's hackles raised at the sound of another voice, and she glared, tensing up to run. Oh-- a rabbit. Mae wiped at the blood running down her head from the gash hidden in her thick hair, wary.]
It stepped on me.