my empire of dirt

Since her arrival on Fate’s Summit, Velyre had slowly been getting accustomed to her new life. She did this largely by skulking in the shadows and watching everyone like a weird little spy. She wasn’t sure what information she was trying to collect, exactly; Runar’s stories were…interesting, if potentially not factual. When she was called upon to help, she did so to the best of her ability.

This afternoon, she decided to venture a bit farther than usual. She steered clear of the steepest cliffs, keeping a wide berth of any slippery riverbanks or splashing rapids. Velyre thought she was very clever for doing so.

Up until, of course, the ground gave way from under her paws.

She tumbled through the air and landed with a loud curse on (thankfully) soft earth. Once the initial shock had worn off, she stood up, relieved to find that nothing seemed broken. Ears flat with irritation, she bared her teeth at the sides of the pit she’d fallen into. Large, branching roots stretched out around her; the fallen tree had ripped out the ground when it fell, and the surrounding vegetation had disguised the pit from her. A perfect trap of largely her own making, but Velyre was too angry to acknowledge that at the moment.

Beyond the rim of the pit she spotted a flicker of movement—pale gray fur—a scent entered her nose that was, somehow, familiar—

“Hey! Down here!” she snarled. Covered in dirt and her fur bristling, she was not exactly the picture of grace at the moment.

@Tafty
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