PM to join [Ironrock] The First Generation

[Kavala]

Timestamp: 10th of Fall 512 AV

The last thing Kavala remembered was Vanator raising his weapon and bringing it down on her forehead. She'd begged her brother to do it. The compulsions to heal the wounded zith and her companions were driving her to the edge of sanity. The Myrian had solved the Zith problem, slaughtering them neatly until none were left alive, but the small trio made up of Vanator her brother, the stranger with dark skin from the jungles of Falyndar, and herself were all grievously wounded. So while they were making a break for it, taking the horse herds back to The Sanctuary, Vanator had done his big brotherly duty and made sure his sister felt nothing on her way home.

Kavala wasn't ready to quit the fight yet though. Even as darkness took her from awareness of the scene, her gnosis took her directly to her chavi and she skimmed backwards, looking for battle, looking to see how she'd handled it before. Her last life was something known to her, and she slid past Crescent's awareness, already knowing what the Ruv'na assassin's life had been like. She went further, seeking answers, and found another life. Sliding deeper, she looked further, until the fortress caught her eye.

Ironrock.

She knew the name. Everyone did. And as she dived into the memories there, Kavala learned something she didn't know before. She learned at one time she'd been a kelvic, living in Marcus Kelvic's fortress. A'Kenas. The A' was for Marcus Kelvics first generation. The generations after her had carried names like B'Talis and C'Kavil. But all the kelvics of that first generation were designated in Marcus' systematic and no-nonsense way. They were A's. They were the First Generation. The name was there clear for her to see and she slid into the memories suddenly understanding why she had such a love and affinity with horses. She'd been one.

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A'Kenas woke up slowly. Stretching a hoof out and then another, she realized she was stretched out on her side and surged lightly to her feet, shaking off her black and white mane and snorting. Shifting into her human form, she stepped into a simple tunic, belted it in place, and slid on the sandals. Preferring to sleep in the stables often made her late for duty. And today she had patrol. With someone she didn't know, a kelvic predator. Marcus was constantly doing that, assigning prey animals to predator animals and forcing them to work together.

A'Kenas wasn't impressed. She passed a B and then a C, nodding to the C who was young and playful and kicking a ball in the courtyard. Dog... no puppy? She flared her nose and couldn't quite tell. The B was a doe she was familiar with. She passed through a walkway, up a stair and into a mustering room. She checked the roster, proud she could read and didn't need to reply on others.

Glancing at the position of the sun outside the window, she was early. But just barely. Snorting she turned down another hall, passed through an archway, and went to meet the predator she'd be doing patrol with. She needed to find out if he wanted to go in animal form, human form, or if he was using her as a mount today which sometimes Marcus required.

Her tack was back at the stables. She hoped he wanted to go in human form. She much preferred that to packing lazy predators around the mountains surrounding Ironrock. She should have recognized the name on the list, but she hadn't. There were so many kelvics at Ironrock these days, not like in the first days where there'd only been a handful. Some were sent on duties away, sold, and even some were used for breeding and sequestered a great deal.

A'Kenas was neither. SA'Kenas was a Zanrisi Creation, one of Marcus Kelvics assistances, and she was Irvyn's favorite mount and so she stayed at the fortress and when he wanted to go to the city, he rode her. She was proud of the fact, remembering a time when she was just a horse and had not been kelvic. That's what it meant to be an A'. They were made, not born. Everyone else after had been born. But she was still here, even after the three years since kelvics had come into being.

So she made it to the Courtyard right on time... and waited impatiently for the kelvic assigned to her duty, the one she'd have to patrol with.

[Ruzekiel Soren]

Ruzekiel Soren slumped to his knees, black spots dancing before his vision. He had been trying to help a Kelvic snow leopard named Blizzard, but before they could cure her bloodlust she had clawed him deeply in the crook of shoulder and neck. Now he pressed his hand against the wound as blood slowly began to soak his shirt and his face grew white. Served him right for meddling with wildlife. He was a Vantha, not an animal whisperer, but that didn’t stop him from getting himself into these dangerous situations with troubled Kelvics. The last thing Zeke saw was Blizzard’s face, ferocious and feral, her pupils furious slits, before he could hold on no longer and blacked out in the dim, gaslit streets. Everything was light and sound. He heard strange words in disjointed phrases and saw faces he’d never seen before twirl and morph before him. There was all manner of animals, horses, rabbits, deer and their ilk. As he slowly began to feel a slight tingling in his hands and feet, and down his spine, he saw the rabbit stop and stare at him, trembling. He was hungry, and the rabbit was food. He found himself on four legs as he chased it, and when it was within his reach he pounced, snapping its neck in one swift motion and relishing the lifeblood that swished between his teeth as he bit into his lunch. Then everything disappeared before him and he felt the autumn leaves underfoot crunch and crack as they gave way to sky. If Zeke had breath he would have screamed, but his jaws had stopped working. As he fell he saw land below him, a castle of some sort, a pasture and a courtyard, and what looked like a stable. This wasn’t Alvadas. What the--? Zeke thought as he rushed towards the ground, getting nearer and nearer to his death. Now there was a curled up, reddish shape directly below him, seeming to guide his way no matter what wind, and as he drew closer, he could make out its features. It looked like some awkward cross between a domestic dog gone feral and a house cat. And yet, it looked so familiar, as if it was a family pet or---or maybe it was more than that...? He had no more time to think because the creature lying on the ground rushed up to meet him, and Ruzekiel Soren ceased to exist. A’velin woke from a wonderful rabbit-chase dream and stretched out his paws, yawning widely and displaying a forest of teeth. He blinked and rolled over onto his front, then slowly and reluctantly got to his feet. The midmorning sun warmed his mud speckled, russet back and made him sleepy, but he could not sleep now. He had his first assignment in a while this morning and although he despised hunting by day it would be a nice change from his usual routine of stealing trinkets from the girls and hiding them in funny places (B’Rysha still hadn’t forgiven him for the pantyhose incident). He grabbed his clothes in his teeth and changed into his human form, still an uncomfortable transformation. He felt much more comfortable as a fox, but he would probably have to do at least part of the assignment as a human, so he’d need clothes anyway. He shrugged the simple black tunic and vest on, shimmied into his boots and made for the hallway and common room where the assignment sheet hung. There were a few prey animals milling around the place when he got there, and one or two predators as well, all looking rightly uncomfortable with each other. There was no comfortable way of mixing prey and predator, that was for sure. When he padded up to the board he heard a gaggle of sheep, probably C’s giggling. He scowled. “So what do you think that is?” “I saw him on patrol once, maybe he’s some sort of ...dog.” “Hah! Yeah, a tiny, ugly dog.” “A cat dog!” They all seemed to find this quite amusing from their sharp giggles and not-so-furtive glances. Even as a human they recognized him. Not for the first time that week, he wished that he were just an animal, just another scavenger who didn’t understand human. Now he was one, sort of, and it was all bullocks, all of it. Damn Kelvic for messing up the proper order of things. Not like he was one for order, but really, enough was enough. He walked up to the board and looked over the parchment, trying to make sense of the squiggly lines all over it. He made out the letter A, and a few others but they were in a jumble. He hated this! A’velin tried his best to make himself look nonchalant and like he was just reading the whole list, but the giggles behind him intensified and he heard a gruff voice behind him. “A’Velin, you’re with A’Kenas. She’s a horse, meet her in the courtyard.” A’velin whipped around guiltily and a huge bear Kelvic grinned at him, then moved forward to check his own position on the roster. The fox's face grew hot, and he turned on his heel and strutted in the direction of the courtyard, giving a curt nod to the bear. “Thank you,” he forced out as he wobbled away. He was almost at the exit when he tripped over his clumsy manfeet and landed face-first on the gravel pathway leading out of the castle and into the courtyard. The audience roared with laughter. He got up, dusted himself off, and bowed, then he turned around and stalked away, wishing he had just stayed in bed. When he arrived 5 minutes late to the courtyard he found an impatient blonde standing there, tapping her foot and looking quite bored. This must be his patrol partner. He tried his best to be steady on his feet, with no tail to guide him, but it was difficult. It made him walk with what looked like a slightly drunken swagger, but at least he wasn’t wobbling like a newborn foal, like he was a few months ago. “‘Morning,” he said as he grew nearer to her. He stretched out a hand. “Are you A’Kenas? I’m supposed to meet her here for patrol.”

[Kavala]

A'Kenas eyed A’Velin up and down as he approached. She snorted, taking in his scent and looked thoughtful. "What are you? Dog? Fox?" She asked, looking skeptical. Neither would bother her, but A’Velin had a reputation. "I'm here to work. It pleases Zanrisi. I have heard about you. You know why they put you with me don't you? You play tricks. They want to make sure I keep you out of trouble and alive. Your creator likes you. But you are dangerous because you do not listen. I have heard a lot about you. Even B'Rysha who no one ever upsets doesn't like you." A'Kena said softly.

She looked at the route map on the wall then glanced at A’Velin. "Are you riding or walking today? Or are you on all fours? I've left my tack in the stable if you want to ride. Otherwise we can go as human. They like that when we do so because we'll talk. They like us talking. Irvyn, my creator, wanted me to talk to you. He wanted me to find out why your broken. I told him it was because you weren't a horse. He thought that wasn't acceptable." She admitted, shaking her head.

A'Kenas had bright white hair streaked with black. No doubt her horse form was black and white. But she seemed bossy, dominant, and important. She was almost the perfect level of seriousness to play a trick on.

[Hadrian]

The young enchanter's malaise had passed, his fevers receded, but his strange meeting on the chavena had inspired his attention to the gift Nysel had given him. A great deal of time had passed in which his attention and energy had been more necessary in the waking world, and his prayers to Eyris for wisdom regarding the dreamlord's bequest had yielded nothing, and so he had chosen to believe the silence in his soul was a suggestion to wait until the time was right. Messages from Eyris came that way, in omen more than direct revelation. The djed storm had blown away her restriction upon his memory, which had altered his course back toward Zeltiva rather than toward Wind Reach as he had planned. The dreaming gift had waited, coiled within him, until a fever had confused him to the point where he invoked it all unknowing, and now he knew he could ignore it no longer. The Healer-knight had mumbled about Vayt, claiming no fever could so long battle her skill coupled with the grace of Rak'keli, but Hadrian was no healer, had no direct knowledge of the god of pestilence or the goddess of healing, and so it was another mystery. But he fell asleep to the silent litany of his prayers, alternating between Eyris for wisdom and Nysel for guidance through the chavena. He believed that he had not necessarily earned Nysel's favor as the god had plans that necessitated the ability of one ambitious scholar to know ever more... *~+~* Belem walked among them, the A-class, the B and C. She was too young to be there according to many of the wizards and sorceresses, natural philosophers and other various and sundry support staff, but she was fortunate that her mother, Ingrit, was too brilliant to do without, and the woman would not come without her daughter. The little girl had known eight, perhaps nine years of life, and those spent in the valley of the Denvali garrison where her mother had overseen the arsenal of rare and powerful artifacts, some moved there for safekeeping, others created by the woman herself. But that garrison had a culture all its own, and the little girl was dressed like a boy, her hair braided around her head like a crown, and she had daggers in her belt. She was restless, though, was Belem. Her mother had little time to see properly to her continuing education, and so she had begun to educate herself, reading from the library, assisting where she could, training with some of the more open-minded guards, many of which were young Kelvics themselves who found the more malleable personality of such a youngster more in keeping with their own relative youth. With the infant D'Loris tucked into the cowled neck of her undershirt -- called so because she was D-generation and, well, a loris -- Belem walked among the Kelvics, greeting and being greeted by many. She saw A'Kenas speaking to A'Velin and wondered what they were about. Being a young girl devoted to Aquiras, she loved the idea of a Kelvic horse, one who could be a true friend as well as a fleet-footed vehicle for travel. With a friend like A'Kenas, one could travel the world and always have a companion. They both knew her and the brief of her history, but the A-generation were not quite as friendly with her. The B-generation found more in common with her, and she often played with the C kids, which felt much like being a big sister with little brothers and sisters who were awesome because they could change into animals. She was a little jealous of that. She wasn't exactly eavesdropping -- all right, she was eavesdropping a little bit. It was just she was curious, painfully curious, about these wonderful creatures. Most of the talk of the humans went over her head, and she wasn't a Kelvic so there was always something standing between her and her friends among them. Feeling a little isolated, she did her best to put a brave face upon it. After all, she was Denvali. They were soldiers. Soldiers didn't cry and whine because they were lonely. She wasn't a baby.

[Ruzekiel Soren]

Of what kind could this girl come of? Her face was skeptical and she stood ramrod straight, a woman who took her job quite seriously. He didn't care too much for it, but hell, the food was good and they had shelter here. Although the concept of sleeping on one of those infernal...bed....things, in his human form no less, was just creepy. He tilted his head and replied tersely, "Fox. You're the first one to guess correctly. Bravo." He put on a small show of clapping. A’Kenas began to speak to him about all that business, the creator and the pranks and the pretending to be other people to get into bars, he’d heard it all already from Kelvic and he was NOT in the mood to hear it again. “My creator? If my creator liked me, he would’ve left me the hell alone. Perhaps you like to listen to rules and regulations and get ridden around everywhere with ribbons in your mane, like the pretty prize mare that you are, but I’d rather be doing what I’m good at. Glad to hear you know of me, though. How is B’Rysha doing by the way? Still got those knickers all bunched up? Hm hm, last time she calls me a stupid house pet.” “Hah, on foot, human? These clumsy meatbags? No way, sister. We’re going on all fours,” he said, but upon seeing her face, grave and serious, he had an idea. A great idea. On a Loki-size scale. After deliberating for a while, he finally relented. “Fine, we go human. But no touchy-feely prattle, allright? I am still a predator, I have my dignity.” At the mention of Irvyn A’Velin scoffed. He fixed her with a yellow stare and said bluntly, “Irvyn is a pansy then. I am far from broken, in fact I am fully whole and unfixed, and that makes me awesome.” Damn Irvyn. Him and his “let’s talk it out” fetish. Alvie would rather patrol or catch salmon in the cold clear river than talk, thank you very much. Stupid pony. Hearing a rustle behind him he turned and saw the little girl there. He’d seen her a few times hanging around the B and C kids, but she was undoubtedly the youngest of them all. She got weird stares because of that. Well, he knew what weird stares felt like. The fox had no idea why the kid was even here, but that was no matter. He just dipped his head slightly to the strange girl, checked the map that A’Kenas had been checking a little bit before, and began to head out, gesturing behind him for the horse to follow.

[Kavala]

A'Kenas' response to the fox calling her Creator and her bondmate a pansy - a delicate whimsical fragile flower - insited rage in her. She struck fast, like a horse would, lashing out with her foot and kicking him in the stomach barely missing his 'unfixed' parts. She bared her teeth at him and advanced after the kick trying to drive him to the ground. Dogs had their places, and horses tolerated none of their nonsense. It wasn't like he was a wolf. He was a fox. A little meddling name-calling arrogant piece of fur that she decide was best worn as a muff or shawl in decoration rather than let laze around insulting her Creator.

She loved Irvyn. A'Velin was obviously unbonded which in her book meant unwanted. Sold. He'd be sold soon, no doubt, or put down as a failure for being too willful. She flashed teeth at him, unhappy, and wanted to kick again even after crowding him.

"Irvyn Zanrisis is my bondmate. Do you understand what that means, you shallow minded filthy little lapdog? I will not let you insult him again because he has none of your taunts deserved. And I will stomp your little furry butt from here to Denval if you even so much as say his name on your filthy lips again. I can tolerate a lot from a dog, but I will not tolerate my Creator insulted. He is my whole world. And while I know you cannot understand this because you are not bonded, please try. Just because no one WANTS you thus far or probably ever doesn't mean you can go around insulting those that are wanted. No wonder B'Rysha hates you. She'd probably thank me for dumping you off the nearest cliff." A'Kenas said, her voice almost a whiny.

"And who was your creator anyhow? Jacob Nival? I see you use no last name. Is he the DEAD guy? The one that blew up his lab? Is that why he left you alone? Or is he one of the others? That has more failure than success?" A'Kenas was getting mean now and she actually had no idea who made A'Velin. She snorted, tossed her head, and pawed at the ground with her booted foot. In fact she was feeling so angry at the taunt that she had just about decided to make good to stomp the other kelvic into the dirt when she caught a glimpse of the little girl hiding off to the side.

The mare calmed immediately. Children were so rare at Ironrock. The only ones they usually ever saw were kelvics, and in A'Kenas view they were too stupid to merit even talking too. She snorted to clear the fox stink out of her nose, and wandered towards the girl.

"Hello. I was just about to have me some fox for breakfast. Would you like a nice little orange muff or hat to go with that little coat you're wearing?" A'Kenas asked politely. She figured if she got a humans permission to kill A'Velin, it would be okay.

[Hadrian]

Young Belem was no stranger to struggles for dominance. If it was more obvious in the half-animal Kelvics, perhaps, but only because they were more honest with themselves. The violence made her senses go on alert, though, because sometimes these things were the normal course of things, and other times, they could end badly. Certain Kelvics had been destroyed for displaying aggression to an uncontrollable degree. She didn't like to think of that. But he had just acknowledged her, which made her cheeks pink, and then A'Kenas saw her and ceased her aggression, which was probably all to the good. Unless she was meant to be someone's destrier to ride into battle, but then she would likely be shipped to the front line of whatever battle with Alahea came next. She couldn't understand why Alahea wasn't bored of fighting yet, but maybe the Kelvics could end the constant warring. She supposed if there were egos clashing among the developers, there would be egos clashing among the Kelvics too. But she would have been happy with any sort of Kelvic wanting to bond to her, which may have been why little D'Loris was allowed to sleep in her clothes like this. "Did they make you carnivorous?" she asked. Of course she knew the turn of phrase, but it was stupid to make assumptions here where the wizards of Suva were playing at being Caiyha or Kihala. Mother said Aquiras urged them to travel forward, that there was such a thing as progress, and Belem had no reason to question the infinite wisdom of Ingrit, especially within the bailiwick of experimental magic. If they had made a carnivorous horse Kelvic, the snarky fox-man might have bitten off more than he could chew, but so far he hadn't used the distraction Belem provided to go for a bolt hole.

[Ruzekiel Soren]

He would be lying to himself if he said that he was prepared for the crushing blow her foot delivered to his stomach. In fact he was so very unprepared that he skidded a few feet at the contact, bringing up clouds of dust. The mad mare stalked towards him and shoved her other foot down on his chest. His tongue was abrasive, but by no means was he strong enough to back that up with brawn, so he gasped for air back into his lungs and grabbed at her ankle. Man, horses were heavy. He’d never been one for muscle, and now he was pinned under a very angry Kelvic. What did it matter to her anyway? Irvyn was just another human, laying down the law---then he understood. "Irvyn Zanrisis is my bondmate. Do you understand what that means, you shallow minded filthy little lapdog? I will not let you insult him again because he has none of your taunts deserved. And I will stomp your little furry butt from here to Denval if you even so much as say his name on your filthy lips again.” For a moment Alvie was speechless. He knew what insulting a Kelvic’s bondmate meant for the perpetrator. He’d thought that Irvyn was just another meddling human creator, making them all talk things out like humans do. He could never have imagined....Her bondmate? Her? Irvyn? It was strange to think, but it was true. He’d have to keep a mental note of that. No way he was getting on this horse’s bad side. Oh wait, too late. Damn, he really should’ve kept his mouth shut more often. But all sympathy he had for A’Kenas soon flew out the window. “I can tolerate a lot from a dog, but I will not tolerate my Creator insulted. He is my whole world. And while I know you cannot understand this because you are not bonded, please try. Just because no one WANTS you thus far or probably ever doesn't mean you can go around insulting those that are wanted. No wonder B'Rysha hates you. She'd probably thank me for dumping you off the nearest cliff." She took her leaden foot off his chest and stamped the ground to prove her point. A’Velin was quick in most things, in anger as well as action and trickery. He scrambled up to standing and growled fiercely, “I am NOT a dog, I am a FOX, get it right! We’re no more dogs than you are brimming with free will!” Damnit, that sharp tongue again. It was a barb that pricked him more than others. But it was already out poisoning the air and things were escalating fast. A’Velin began to crouch slightly, putting his weight in the balls of his feet, ready to make a swift escape. He tried to placate her now, breathing deeply a few times to calm his fight or flight sense (who was he kidding, his flight sense) for a moment of clarity. “Look,” he said tensely, “I’m sorry that I insulted your...your bondmate. I was unaware of the situation between you two. Irvyn hates me, for good reason, but I would never insult someone’s bondmate...er...to their face. Ever. OK? So let’s just calm do--” "--And who was your creator anyhow? Jacob Nival? I see you use no last name. Is he the DEAD guy? The one that blew up his lab? Is that why he left you alone? Or is he one of the others? That has more failure than success?" His blood boiled. How dare she talk about the Professor like that? How dare she spoil his name? All thought of peace was demolished, but before he could act on it he instead felt a hole. Where he had been, before Ironrock decreed exile on his head. It was worse than death to Jacques, A’Velin felt it. He wasn’t there but he felt every minute of it. He felt the rope pull taut around his creator’s stubbled neglected neck. He felt the chair topple over and his bats screech in protest, swirling from the open cage like a black, winged tornado of blood-starved revenants over his Moriarty’s face. No one deserved a death like that. Even in exile, Jacques Moriarty should have died an old man in his bed, surrounded by his ill-fated creations who loved him. And then for Ironrock to subdue the truth of the matter, their hand in his death, A’Velin’s very existence? No, it would not do. He survived and he was not going to hide under some weak pretense of a mystery creator for the rest of his time here, which was not long. Not long at all. His hands balled up into fists. His whole body shook with cold rage, a rage unlike the petty annoyed glances and appearances that made up his personality to the outside world. He wanted to rip that mere’s throat out, but he knew that if he tried she would best him. So he stood there, covered in dust, shaking almost to the point of illness. He ground his words out through his teeth, terse pauses between every single one. “Jacques....Moriarty...You...god...damn...donkey.” At the insult he should have been prepared to run from A’Kenas, but he could not help but stand rigid as a washboard, a over-tightened cello string fit to shatter. No, not now, he couldn’t freeze now. Wake up, limbs, wake up! His eyes were burning, and he felt a tear begin to slide silently down his cheek. He would not cry. He didn’t cry when Moriarty hanged and he wouldn’t cry now. Not ever. He owed it to his creator. A’Velin’s ears had frozen on him too, but he could hear very slightly A’Kenas leaving him and speaking gently to the girl. He had forgotten that she was there. Fox for breakfast, hah. If he could chortle he would. He’d like to see the horse try to eat meat. He tried to talk to the girl too, to argue his point, but his jaw was clenched tight. He was gone to the world for who knew how long now. He hoped that A’Kenas wouldn’t notice and that he’d unfreeze soon. Please unfreeze soon. oocSorry for all the drama, it kind of spiraled and now we’ve got a screwed up Kelvic on our hands. See that’s why he doesn’t like his human form all that much. xP Any questions/comments PM me

[Hadrian]

OOCI liked the long bit of drama. And I hope it's okay I'm going again. Don't want to step on toes, but want to keep the good stuff going! Surely nobody had been so gauche as to make a carnivorous horse! That was unnatural. She had known fierce horses; most of the horses she had known were born and bred for battle, in fact. But they all had gentle sides, even if one only saw it when sneaking up on them nuzzling their young or drinking from a stream. That A'Kenas was furious was easy to see, even if she was all kind and smiles to the young human girl, but A'Velin was also clearly traumatized. Or maybe it wasn't clear to everyone, but whatever childish empathy she possessed made it so to her. Before A'Kenas could answer, she hurried to the fox-man who had acknowledged her. "Please stop," she asked. "Stop fighting." Whether she was brave or foolish putting herself between the two of them was open to interpretation. Perhaps the same could be said of her people in the Denval Garrison, the guardians of the Watchtower, Aquiras' arrows. But even the soldiers of Suva could be diplomatic sometimes. "You might both be punished." A small hand reached up to touch A'Velin ever so gently on the chest, not wanting to cause him any discomfort with her concern. "Are you hurt?" she asked with a seriousness beyond her years. The sleepy infant loris peeked out from her hood at A'Kenas, trying to figure out what all the fuss was about. Belem was usually a calm, comfortable place to make a temporary nest. D'Loris didn't like the daytime light, and squinted with infantile disapproval before turning back to huddle deeper within.

[Sliver]

Slam. The feeling of the fist viciously upper cutting her jaw reverberated through her whole being. Note to remember: the bears were touchy when you brought up the cleanliness of their fur. She hit the ground with a skid and a slam, darkness encroaching upon her almost immediately. She had had dreams before, even vivid ones that she remembered upon waking. None had ever been so vivid or real as this: She was flying. It was a foreign sensation, bizarre and frightening to such a ground bound creature, yet the longer it went on the more comfortable she felt. It was dark, pitch dark, yet she had no problem seeing, nor hearing. The entire world in one shadowy mass, a beautiful palette of greys laid out in a monochromatic landscape spread out before her, no…before him. A’Taneir woke to the withdrawing of the covering over his gilded cage. Giant pupils contracted instantly to the sharp pain the sunlight filtering in through the window bought, large yellow eyes filled with mere slits. As long as he lived he would never truly adapt to this new schedule…a human schedule. He understood the reason why, why they were forcing him to adapt, but it rubbed his feathers wrong no matter how long he slept at night and woke in the day. His cage was opened by a B, a mouse Kelvic who A’Taneir took sick pleasure in saying no words to, simply staring at him with his large eyes until the man ran off in fright. Even through their transformations and experiments, the great horned owl took solace in the fact that the order of the food chain still reigned no matter what his prey looked like. Giving himself a thorough preening to aid in waking up as well as to avoid the necessity of those warm baths human’s enjoyed so much, Tan admired his russet plumage a bit before glancing a bit reluctantly at the folded clothes left out for him. An awkward leap out of his cage led to the transformation to human form, feet landing comfortably under the wiry body he possessed. One hand ran through dirty blonde hair, and then ceased activity so he could dress himself. He had to admit the dexterity of these limbs was far superior to his talons, but nothing would ever surpass the satisfaction of piercing something in that powerful grasp. Fingers tugged at the loose fitting cotton shirt, trying to ignore the constricting properties of the trousers they liked him to wear. He glanced outside and realized he was late. This wasn’t precisely a problem, for his daytime disadvantage was always considered when dealing with the owl, but he still liked to maintain a schedule. He proceeded to the roster, more out of habit than necessity, for his job was nearly always the same. Just as he thought watching in the morning, research in the afternoon. Tan served as an improved set of eyes for the researchers and mages of Ironrock, catching fights before they happened, and finding minute details others might overlook. Speaking of which he could hear some sort of conflict occurring already. Rubbing his eyes wearily in preparation for the full power of the sun, A’Taneir stepped outside, blinking several times and feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. He recognized the two individuals; A’s like him, and was more than familiar with Belem, who was a common face in the libraries where he aided with research. He liked the child, for like him she seemed to look first before acting…something that could not be said for the two creatures trading blows. A’Taneir came up beside the girl, head cocked to the side, arms folded before him. “I’d heed the girl’s advice if I were you.” A simple nod of greeting was extended to the horse and fox, for the life of him Tan could not remember their names.