Pink Poogle Toy Forum

Shakht had remained in his haunch-stand, and with a sigh he clapped his wings and backwinged to a nearby rock, warm in the sun, so that he could see both the human-creature with his griffin, and the half-elf. He glanced sideways at the part-human Isaac, wondering why the stranger put his hood up, but did not comment. More often than not, Shakht kept his own counsel. He sang a soft whistle to no one in particular, a thrumming in his throat that was contented. He wondered why both of these people seemed to be hiding from others of their kind, but did not comment - after all, he preferred to be alone and away from many others of his kind, so perhaps it was not so strange. Instead he sat on his rock like it was a throne, and waited contentedly for either one to say something.

Torin slightly-only slightly-began to calm herself. The griffin seemed to be young. His movements were so animated they were almost funny, but at the same time very regal. Like now, for example. He sat back on the boulder like it was a throne, thrumming in what seemed to be a contented manner. He was seated in such a way that he could see both her and the boy...which brought her attention to the boy.

He was cloaked and hooeded; she could make out only shadows where his face should lie. What she did notice, though, was the small griffin. Somehow, she'd not noticed it before. She stared for a moment, fascinated by the small creature. She realized what she was doing, though, and immediately lowered her gaze lest she be accused for her staring.

Name: Oakleaf
Species: Pegasus Furre
Gender: Female
Personality: Shy, afraid of many things (counting is one, can you belive that?) When brave it's reckless, foolish bravery. (I can't belive how many times I've written that )
Appearance: Very runty, lean and starved-looking, wears a tattered green tunic tied at the waist with a length of rope. She carries a sword far too big for her. Her hair is blood-red, and her fur a pale reddish-roan, maked by terrible scars and swirling sea-blue stripes.

[[Will enter soon]]

Rish paced in careless circles at the base of Rima's residing tree. His tail swished in awkward patterns, his face bent to the ground as he paced. Ears alert, he waited.

5...4...3...2...1...and-

With a sudden burst of energy his back legs forced him up into a jump, his head now slightly arched upward. The peel of a fruit that had been brown landed into his waiting beak. By the time Rish fell back to rocky ground, he had the peel half chewed. Ah... the joys of eating and training all at once.

With the help of another Griffin within the palace, Raitou packed for the trip to the mountains. She hadn't exactly told Arani that they were in fact going, whether she liked it or not, nor had she placed any hints to her plans before the original saying.

Finally the two were finished. Raitou nodded her thanks, then took the heavy pack, and flew in jerky movements towards her room. She arrived just in time, the Queen was just awaking and was still groggy and confused from her afternoon nap.

"Come now, Arani. Get dressed. We're going to the mountains, for a visit."

Arani blinked, nodding, not even bothering to rub the sleep out of her eyes. Raitou helped her along, then nudged the still groggy Queen out of her room, and out to the palace grounds. Thanks to the other Griffin, there was no one else there to meet them, and within a short period of time Arani and Raitou were headed on their way.

Shakht watched with interest as the little black griffin approached the girl. He had sprawled across the flat rock and was now purring, languid in the sun, wings spread carelessly. He was not oblivious - he knew better than to ever let his guard down - but it was obvious he did not suspect these two strangers too much. Though he watched them, he was not overly wary. Putting his head down, he nibbled at a flower twining up the rock, uninterested in the taste but just wondering what Manardi would think of the elf-girl.

*Oakleaf Evolution. This was her birthtitle and so her legal name... legality, wonderful. The Pegasus opened her eyes... the light of dawn was specatacular and it took her a time to get used to this. That very day, Oakleaf was due to face that same word, she was to be put on trial for many crimes, many she had committed and a few she had not.

The small Pegasus stood in the stocks, stocks designed to hold a grown man over in a humiliating position, to force them to bend over. For the child it was much different - she was very short, even for her age (The Pegasi of the White Mountains took usually till they were twenty or so to become full-grown), and had the look of one who has been kept in the dark, underfed, for a long time and suddenly released with no food at all. She had to stand on the tips of her hooves to avoid strangling herself on the wood and metal neck-hold. Her blood-red mane hung before her face.

Standing there in silence, wondering vaugely about the trial that was to take place at dusk, Oak spotted something shiny! At first she thought it was her sword, and that would indeed have been a miracle. But it was only a hairpin, left by the elderly lady who sold quilts near the stocks.

Wait a second...

A hairpin! Silently, swiftly, Oak tried to reach it with her hands... oh wait... duh... they were in the stocks! Reaching out one dusty, large hoof she scraped it over in her direction... then, cleverly nudging it over the space of about three minutes into the slightly tangled blue fur, lifts the hoof up as high as she can, and grasps the pin in her teeth. The child, shocked at her luck - she has never in her life been so fortunate-- well, once -- passes it from mouth to hand and, after much chafing at her wrist and scraping at the old manacle which remained, broken, on her right wrist, managed to insert the pin into a lock. The next part took a good long time, but sure enough, one lock popped. That was enough to force the binding board up enough to free her bad hand, her right hand. After that it was only about a minute before she was completely free, and the hinge swung open. She stood there, rubbing her neck and wrists for a time.



If I had money, Oakleaf thought, I'd leave some for that human. And then she ran, ran before spotting the gates to the villlage... Her silver wings spread and a marvellous sensation swam through her, she was soaring out over the wall, and she lost track of time.

Now it was the same time as Shakht watched the black gryphon approaching the girl... and a sudden shock came to Oak. She knew not whence it came, but she stopped abrubtly... while fifty feet up in the air. She could not move at all... it was as if somebody had hit her over the head with a mallet.

Oakleaf plummeted towards the mountains, just at the spot where they gryphons and humans sat.*

[[Yes, there is a reason, a VERY good reason ]]

Shakht was - perhaps - first to notice the plummeting object. He didn't take a moment to see if the others had spotted it but instead launched himself into the air with unusual (for him) silence. His great black wings spread as he soared into the skies, and as the object fell further, silhouetted black by the sun, he realized it had wings - why, then, would a wingèd creature be falling so quickly? He wasn't too far from the ground and therefore decided to try to risk catching the thing, or at least slowing down its fall. He maneuvered carefully, trying to decide whether to grab it with his talons or hover beneath it to break its fall.

At last he decided (having debated about this in his mind in a matter of a second) and glided under it, wings spread and muscles tense. If one had been looking at him closely in the air one would see a cringeing look in his eyes. It was not pleasant to be landed on by a falling something, even if he was going the same direction of the something. He waited for the moment of impact, beginning to crane his beaked head around to see what it was.

[I'll let you take it from here. If you don't want to be caught, the wind can take your Oak or something ]

*Oakleaf continued to fall, facing upwards. Landing on the back of the great Gryphon, the impact was not as great as it ought to be, as not only did the outspread silver wings of the Pegasus slow the fall, but she was pathetically, almost deathly light.

Her eyes were only partially closed and rolled up into her head. Scars were greatly apparent all over, thin and terrible cuts, shining pale welts, and burns from brands or pokers.*

His breath rushed out of him a little bit at the thump, but it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected it to be. He banked and flew downward in an easy and gradual spiral, not wanting to risk even a shallow dive with this seemingly unconscious creature on his back. Shakht frowned at the light weight of this creature - even though the wings added size, it still should have weighed more than this. At last he settled gently on the ground close to Isaac and the others, wings still thrust out.

He turned his head a bit and squawked quietly; "Can you help?" He was not fond of speaking terribly often - perhaps a habit left over from living a solitary life - and so, after his quiet request to the other human-elf-creatures and the little black griffin near them, he simply waited. He did not withdraw his wings for fear of unbalancing the little thing on his back; when he had flown under it, convenience of position was the least of his worries. He turned his great head around on his neck, and nudged the thing with his closed beak, gently, noting the many scars and scratches before gently preening the unhurt edge of a wing near him. He made a soft purring noise once more, for no particular reason, and his eyes showed remarkable concern.

*Oakleaf was limp and still and silent... for a good many moments. Suddenly her eyes snapped open, and she saw gryphons. Gryphons. She did not breathe in shock and fear. "Oh...no... n-n-NO!" She tensed up, trembling like she was about to cry, but she was beyond that in surprise, and terror...

Sputtering, she got out the words, almost. "I've... have I... ?"

Gryphons.
[[This must be SO confusing to everybeast but me and Tharkun o.o;;]]

Shakht, made curious by her reaction, paced closer, his paws and talons making soft noises on the ground, peering at her. He stretched the edge of one great wing to her, touching her forehead gently with one flight feather. He folded it back to his side with the other wing, head turned slightly to the side, inspecting the strange creature and wondering why it seemed to be so terrified. Was it him? She did seem to be staring at him, and Manardi as well.

He sat on his haunches, not sure if she would want him coming closer. He clicked his beak at her, thoughtfully, before speaking; "I've no idea what you're asking. I saw you falling from the sky and so I caught you," he said simply. He was not one for fancy words - except during storytelling, something he loved. Shakht turned his attention back to the winged creature.

"I am Shakht. How came you to be falling, when you have wings?"

Idly he turned his head and, more out of habit than the need, he preened a few feathers into place. It was a habit that kept him quite clean. He did not do this for long, however, not wishing to be rude and neglect the confused one in front of him. Frowning, he added, "Don't you need help for those wounds?"