Placeholder A Caged Bird Never Sings

Kiva cleans cages and works with the children at the Sanctuary

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Built into the cliffs overlooking the Suvan Sea, Riverfall resides on the edge of grasslands of Cyphrus where the Bluevein River plunges off the plain and cascades down to the inland sea below. Home of the Akalak, Riverfall is a self-supporting city populated by devoted warriors. [Riverfall Codex]

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A Caged Bird Never Sings

Postby Kiva on March 1st, 2016, 4:10 am



The aviary was alive with birds chirping happily, and she moved around the large space, moving to a large stone water basin where the animals bathed, and poured out the murky liquid. Grey, molted feathers clung to the edges and with a clean rag dipped in a soapy bucket, she scrubbed the grim of the bird bath. Residue slipped under her fingernails and she had to put in some elbow grease until she got the results she wanted. Setting it back in it's place, she shifted it once or twice, before nodding at her work.

The birds perched overhead, watching her with beady eyes, and cocked heads. The Myrian paid them no mind, reaching into the apron pocket and pulled free slices of meat she had collected from the kitchen. Cut into long strips, she tossed one in the air, throwing it high, and watched as a bird of prey swooped, snatching it quickly with its talons. She threw a few more pieces, knowing full well that they would be given live food to hunt later, but the snack would be a proper bonding technique. They needed to associate her with food, with positive results. It made her job safer, and she slid of the apron, sweeping the walkways here and there of feathers and washing them down to rid them of any bird poop.

When she was done, Kiva washed her hands, and retied her hair, heading for the aviary's exit. She had been there all morning, cleaning and scrubbing until the sun rose, and after accounting for the position of the birds, quickly slipped out and shut the door behind her securely.

There was much more to be done at the Sanctuary that day. Cleaning to be attended to, perhaps even some cooking for the residents. The children would need supervision and the garden needed to be prepped for the warmer seasons coming. With her mind counting the tasks that needed to be done, she started to plan her day.

'Food first.'

With long, and more confident strides than the weeks before, Kiva was slowly starting to fell more at ease at the Sanctuary. She enjoyed it far more than out in Riverfall's streets, and the atmosphere was more laid back and familial than she had been expected. When she arrived in the kitchen, Kiva made a beeline for the pantry, finding the large expanse rather empty and with no one else in it.

It was still early, she realized, but began to gather wood for the fire and get the flames going. She had lit a fire in the rain once upon a time in Taloba, this was far easier. After one or two tries, her flint and steel proved successful and she slipped the supplies back into the drawer she had found them in.

The question was, what would she make? After poking around the cabinets, she retrieved a bowl and a fork, heading to the pantry to see what there was. Fresh eggs, sitting in a basket had been brought in that morning, and grabbing a handful she went to set them on the counter. She grabbed the salt, and a small jar of butter.

Eggs were easy to make, she reasoned, and with limited skills in cooking, would be an interesting endeavor. Slipping the bowl in front of her, Kiva picked up an egg and tapped it against the corner of the bowl, increasing in pressure until it cracked, and she used her thumbs to deepen the expanse. Thick gunk coated her fingers and dripped down the edge of the bowl to create a puddle of clear membrane. The substance, had it been whiter, looked familiar.

"Hmm..." Like soul mist. Kiva had seen the substance a handful of times before when she had been on Black Rock, and even had been told how to make it, however had never done so herself. If she remembered correctly, the maker had to consume something, and with meditation, could transform it, and then regurgitate it for effectiveness.

The Myrian began to hum softly as she worked, picking up more eggs and cracking them until their bright yolks mingled in the large bowl. Using a fork, she scooped some butter into it, followed by a pinch of salt.
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