[PC] Wandering the Woods

This thread is for character development and self-story telling for my coterie. Feel free to enjoy the tales.

Deep in the warrens slept many 'ryhn, dreaming of the coming spring. This group, which had started out with only a handful of members, had since grown to include various gemkin and personalities. The three mates shared an offshoot of the main warrens, encompassing enough room for them and their new younglings to sleep and hoard. Vi, Kyl, and Enele always curled up together in a warm, snuggle-y nest; the half sisters sleeping in their own nest nearby. Similar scenes repeated everywhere else, with close friends curled up together for warmth in the chilly night. One among their number, however, was not keen on sleeping this night.

In fact, Zandyr did not sleep most nights. Instead, he roamed the surrounding woods, ears, nose, and eyes alert for any possible dangers to his home. The only thing he had encountered so far was a lone wilvern, and that was some time ago. It had easily been chased away; it had been alone, and Zandyr had been accompanied that evening by another night-stalker, Kish'afina. The young go'ryhn had flapped her wings angrily at it, while he ran around it, snapping at it from various angles. The creature had squawked off angrily. No sign of it since. No sign of any threat at all, really. Still, he was restless, and felt it was his duty to guard the others.

Tonight, he was alone, even Kish having preferred the warmth of the dens over the chill night air. Of course, not many had his thick fur. Pacha might be out here, too. I'll check the meadow for her. Like him, the ma'ryhn preferred the outside of the dens, especially now that she had a companion of her own gemkin to show around. The second had not yet revealed her name, being very, very shy of the others, but the scent of honeysuckle was often on the breeze, despite the snow on the ground. Zandyr had guessed this was her scent, just as the smell of a storm was Pacha's. He lifted his large head to the wind, thinking he had scented her. No, not her, but there was a delectable scent in the air. Aaah, looks like someone missed a cluster of berries near the stream. Well, I've found them now. With a happy wave of his tail, Zandyr bounded off.

He was not to be disappointed: there, just off the bank, was a bush, half-hidden and fully forgotten. Mouth watering, he nipped off a mouthful and chewed, the sweet juices running down his chin. The flavor burst in his mouth like tangy honey. Though tempted to eat them all, he refrained. Someone else could have the rest. He'd only wanted a taste of sweetness to ward off the winter blues. Satisfied, he padded over to the stream, bending down to lap at the water. So cold it was filled with tiny ice crystals, and so invigorating! He shivered with delight. A tiny sound, not far off but coming closer; his ear twitched in its direction. Too large to be anything edible, no familiar scent or sending. With practiced ease, Zandyr melted into the shadows, to see what was making the noise.

"It" turned out to be, to his very great surprise, another 'ryhn. Zandyr sniffed the air. She-definitely a she-seemed nervous, almost fearful. It was obvious she scented him, so recently departed, but she made no effort to seek him out. Instead, she glanced around quickly, as though afraid she had interrupted something. Satisfied she was alone, she edged forward, hungrily munching the berries Zandyr had just tasted. She looks quite thin, he realized. I should take her back to the warrens; we have plenty of stored food to share. Slowly, hoping not to alarm her, Zandyr emerged.

Her eyes flicked to him at once, widening in surprise. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here. It's just-well, I was hungry, and I've had to go farther and farther from home to find food this winter." Her ears drooped, eyes lowering to the snow-covered ground. Suddenly she gave a short, sharp laugh, though it sounded more of fear than amusement. "I've gone so far, I'm not sure I could get back now!" In fact, she looked about to cry. Zandyr's eyes softened. "It's fine, no big deal. You're welcome to whatever you like; our warren has plenty to spare. Delvya made sure of that!" He chuckled as he remembered the emerald doe organizing hoarding parties for the coming winter. "I'm Zandyr, by the way. What can I call you?" He inclined his head, waiting for her answer.