The Undertaker's voice is low, its soft rumbling sending vibrations through you. Its words are slow and halting, the words strangely spoken and stressed, but clear.
Ynoch was loved... But more than... she was adored, she loved others. And more than... she loved most, she adored the ones... who are now, gone from this world...
(Edited 2020-11-03 03:16:58)
Arthur is moved by the Undertaker’s words and after building up some courage he takes a step forward.
The loss of Ynoch cannot be stressed, and many will mourn her death for many weeks to come. But at least she will live on in the people she touched and the lives she influenced.
He shifts the scrolls he’s carrying in his arms, a few tumbling to the ground. Arthur lets out a bit of a nervous laugh at his clumsiness. Despite the mess, he eventually manages to select a blank one, pulling a quill from his overflowing satchel before he speaks again.
Forgive me, Undertaker, my memory often fails me, but I believe I came here to record some information…
A moment of silence passes as Arthur takes a moment to desperately try to recall his purpose for being here.
Could... could you perhaps tell me the stories of some of Ynoch’s children? I wish to preserve these tales in Ynoch’s memory.
(Edited 2020-11-07 16:18:45)
The Undertaker tilts his head at Arthur's approach, then bows his head as if accepting the words of greeting. There is a chirring sound, perhaps of amusement? Or maybe appreciation.
Eldest son... you do not... remember with your mind. You remember with... your bones.
Another clicking, chirring sound, which is definitely amusement this time.
You know of... the Chimia... They were the first... and now are the last. The Chimareu... the ones who loved fire... they left Ynoch. The Chimoraa... they were her beloved... and the Chimeko... they stole many things... It cost them dearly. Which story...?
(Edited 2020-11-03 03:17:10)
Arthur smiles weakly at the large Corvigere before him, not fully understanding what the corvigere was trying to advise him to do.
If I could remember with my bones, Undertaker, I would.
He sets out an inkwell on a flat stone nearby, situating himself on the ground as he prepares to begin writing. He takes note of the three names, the metal tip of his quill scratching across the rough parchment page.
Tell me of the Chimoraa first, father. I think the people need to hear more of Ynoch's love. Thievery and punishment would probably not be the best place to start...
(Edited 2020-11-03 11:14:04)
The Chimoraa were closest... to their mother, more than any other. While most chimia... fly in the branches... the Chimora embraced her roots.
The first chimoraa... was stillborn in her fruit... She was buried in... her mother's grave. Then she opened Ynoch's tree... and walked out, alive. This is why... the tree has a hollow.
Arthur's hand flies across the parchment as The Undertaker speaks. There's not much to write but Arthur manages to get every word written down
I'm sure Ynoch rejoiced when her child stepped out of her trunk, hm?
Arthur smiled up at The Undertaker, pausing in his scribbles for a moment
What became of the Chimoraa after they were all born?
(Edited 2020-11-03 11:14:18)
They lived in the grove... They were fiercely loyal... and never left their mother... for any reason.
When The Senescence occurred... They elected to remain behind... And when we returned... they were all gone. Not even Ynoch could protect them from those first storms... which we fled.
Arthur sits in silence for a moment. Letting the information wash over him.
It was brave of them to stay behind. I'd like to think that their sacrifice meant something... but in the end, so many lives were lost during the Senescence, so much ancient knowledge left in the past as well...
He tapped the feathery end of his quill against his lips, lost in thought for a moment.
I would have loved to see Orrison before the catalyst broke this planet.
Scrying... is the realm of divinity, for rrex and chimoraa.
The Undertaker speaks solemnly, like they took Arthur's musings for a serious wish.
Arthur lets out a soft chuckle at the Undertaker's words.
No, I didn't mean in those terms... say, did the Chimoraa have divine fysa instead of ash like their ki-
Arthur trails off as some displeased shouting is heard from behind him. He turns his head around, flattening his ears against his skull as he sees what caused those yells.
Iphae makes his way down the tunnel, bypassing those waiting to speak with the Undertaker next. His eyes roam around the room. Taking in all the details. It was quite unimpressive.
He came to a halt in front of the Undertaker, standing next to the kneeling Arthur. He gave the Undertaker a look over, obviously sizing him up and judging him quite intensely.
For a supposed God that walks among men you're not all that awe-inspiring you know that?
He cocks his head to one side, a smug grin settling on his lips.
Stories of you leave much to be desired once you catch a glimpse of the real thing. It's sad, really.
Arthur sat there silently, his head sinking deeper into the fluff of his neck the more Iphae spoke. He did not want to be a part of this.
(Edited 2020-11-07 16:07:04)
Arae listens to the Undertaker first with interest, then with just a hint of sorrow, their eyebrows knitting together as they think about his words.
I... couldn't agree more, I think. Ynoch has given us so much, always, um... I think it will become very important to keep that spirit alive. To uh, honor the lives, the people she felt for so deeply - past and present. She isn't truly gone, if we don't let her be...
The Immanu trails off, shoulders slouching a bit, suddenly worried they've said too much or overstepped a boundary.
I'm sorry... that's just my thinking, of course.
(Edited 2020-11-02 09:20:58)
Are you a... philosopher, Rii'Heis? Do not apologize... for thinking. It is the power... of your kind.
The Undertaker settles, laying their head down near Arae so to better regard them. He seems relaxed.
There will always... be another. It is good... To encourage the spirit... new deities may yet... rise to fill the void. Ynoch did begin... as only an egg. Just like you. We must foster goodness... and remain vigilant.
(Edited 2020-11-02 04:46:09)
Arae resists the urge to hide behind their hands, returning the Undertaker's gaze as calmly as they're able to. Despite their shyness, they give the Corvigere a gentle smile.
I'd like to think of myself as a bit of one. I am with a circle that unearths lost knowledge... I'd say that um, it's an endeavor that does make you think a lot. There's... a lot of perspective to gain, learning about people and viewpoints you sometimes have incredibly little in common with.
They pause, lightly tapping their chin with their index finger, before nodding.
I like the way you put that... fostering goodness. Remembering the good others have done, for us and for others... and paying it forward by being good to others in kind. I hate to ask so bluntly, but... do you have any such stories to share? Of goodness? Sharing them could, um. Help tide people over, in this time of mourning.
The Undertaker considers.
Once... Kemichira the thief... stole 20 fish from the river... And so proud of their catch... did not share a single one... with any of their siblings.
Migari himself only caught 1... but shared it with Nalareu the bold. And Nalareu knew... how to cook the fish. Not just with heat... but with spices, fruit, and grain.
The two had a warm and filling meal... While Kemichira had to eat... 20 cold raw fish... As they were.
It is better to share... what little we have... than to amass large amounts... of what we cannot use.
Arae's eyes wander as they listen to the story, the Undertaker's voice putting them at ease. At the end of the story, they give a slow, thoughtful nod.
An important lesson... one I'm afraid many have yet to learn... I'll gladly share this story with more people. It's an excellent example, it may inspire some people to reconsider their priorities...
I wonder, though...
They pause, gaze returning to the Undertaker.
I don't hear of Kemichira or Nalareu often, I think. Maybe I just haven't been looking in the right places... But I was wondering... Could you tell me more about them, if it's not too much of a bother?
(Edited 2020-11-03 12:23:54)
Like Migari... there were other figures in Ynoch's stories... that were entirely fictional spirits.
But like Migari... there were others who were born... inspired by those false spirits... and with a certain level... of divinity themselves. Each one... became the first... in a different line of chimia. But Migari... is the oldest... and Migari's kin... are the only ones who still live. So we know of Migari.
Kemichira was stolen... from Ynoch. Kemichira's kin... the Chimeko... died long ago, even before... The Age of Preiyer. One tends... to find her story... in text... as it lends itself to literature... as an adventure... where she is the villain. Text does not survive well...
Ailironah is another... who was stillborn... but reborn from Ynoch's trunk. Ailironah's kin, the Chimoraa, died in The Senescence. They were the ones who did not leave their mother.
Nalareu was the youngest... bombastic and powerful... and her kin... the Chimareu... were the smallest in number. They were hunted... to extinction... during the Age of Preiyer.
Ynoch had many children... but not many are relevant to today.
Arae seems to lean in a bit as they listen, fingers idly playing with the hem of their shirt. They stay silent for a little while, even after the Undertaker stops speaking.
Knowing we've lost so many people entirely... It, um. I'm not sure I have the right words... It moves me, I think, is the phrasing that is closest... Thank you for keeping them alive in your retellings.
I'm wondering, what made the Chimoraa stay, when all the others left? There's so much to ask...
It was... strange. They lived... so close to the teleport. Many... were gifted with divination.
Vala wanders closer to the great corvigere, after coming in quietly, tears fresh on her face as she clutches her staff closely. Her light dim and languid in the way it drifts across her fur.
Mother..... I miss her dearly, but I know she loved us all, and I love her too, so her memory will never die, so long as we remember.....
The little chimia trails off for a moment, before taking a deep and steadying breath. She moves forward to lay a gentle hand on the great paw of The Undertaker, her voice a little stronger.
Please, will you tell me a story? What's your favourite? I want to know more about my family, if I have one.
(Edited 2020-11-02 04:46:09)
The Undertaker becomes very still as Vala approaches, but when she touches his hand, he breathes very softly.
I am picking you up, Ynoch'Rii.
He announces rather than asks, and very carefully turns his paw over so to scoop her up and place her between his own ears.
Oh... my favorite tale is long... and winding... and perilous... You likely know of... Migari, the trickster... Do you know... of Kemichira the Thief?
Vala makes a small startled sound as she's picked up, but as soon as she's deposited upon The Undertakers head, she smiles softly, curling up in a nest of fur and feathers.
Oh! Yes I know of my brother, but.... I've never heard of this other figure. I love long stories.... If you're willing, I'd love to travel the past with you. The journey we take in stories is worth more than the culmination of it's parts, I think.
(Edited 2020-11-02 05:16:54)
Wise words, little soul.
Kemichira was... an unconventional youngest sibling. They were stolen from Ynoch... before hatching in the peaks... of the Tail of the world. Like the peaks... they were cold... dark... dangerous. Kemichira could steal... all the light in an area... and loved to move in shadow.
They were asked by those who stole them... To steal Mylic's heart. If one had Mylic's heart... they gained Mylic's loyalty... and domain over the dead.
(Edited 2020-11-04 04:45:25)
Vala shivered, using her light to illuminate her own personal darkness, jt was hard to imagine such a being existing.
That's horrible..... Poor kemichira....did they find mylics heart? Was there nobody there to love them, and show them patience?
she wonders softly, curling her tail around herself as she settles into a small loaf upon The Undertaker's head.
The Undertaker clicks their tongue softly in sadness, though it is a little more for theatrics than true sorrow.
She had neither. In place of love... they gave her pride for independence. In place of patience for others... they gave her patience for the hunt. They taught her death and killing, hoping she would grow close to the realm of souls... and gain the ability to traverse there to pursue Mylic.
She did not find Mylic's heart... because she did not love. And one cannot... lure a heart... if they do not know love. Kemichira haunted the mountains... in the Tail... becoming a darkness... and a biting cold. But from her bitterness... she bore a child. And though she did not know... how to love her child... her child knew love for his mother.
He does not have a name. But he was the first of the Chimeko. And he knew pride, and cold, and dark, and killing, and... love. He is the one... who stole Mylic's heart.
The Undertaker trails off-- that is obviously not the end of the story, but the speaking of words is arduous, and he also gives Vala a chance to turn the subject in case she wishes to not hear more of the story.
Throughout The Undertaker's story, Vala had begun to lean forward with interest, her ears perked as far forward as they could be. She listened with rapt attention, until the end, where she shrank down in fear, letting out a soft gasp.
No...... What did he do with Mylics heart? Who were the people who orchestrated all this? I... I don't understand why anyone would want to... Capture a heart like that....
she trails off sadly, clutching a hand to her own chest, as if concerned that someone might come take her heart as well
What..... What happened to mylic? Was there no one there to protect her heart?
[ talk sprite coming after wednesday after I'm done with final tasks for school ajsahd ]
Ikraam listens in intent silence as the Undertaker speaks. The large, bird-like form looms over him, but the leyr feels at ease in his presence, a reminder of his childhood under the Undertaker's care.
For the longest while Ikraam is silent even after the Undertaker has finished, thinking carefully what to say in response to these touching words.
"Undertaker..." he begins. "I feel.. anger. Despite we were so numerous... we managed to do nothing to save Ynoch.. If we had been able to stop the artifact, Ynoch might not have needed to interfere..."
Much like Undertaker, Ikraam takes long pauses while talking.
"I.. Undertaker, I would like to hear a story of courage. Like the ones you've told when I was..." he trails off, maybe a bit embarassed. ".. A child.."
(Edited 2020-11-02 11:16:09)
When Ikraam speaks, he has the Undertaker's full attention.
You are not a child... but you are still my child. And you still... seek to place... great weights on your wings.
He chuffs fondly, moving one paw close to Ikraam.
You know that Corvigere... are not courageous creatures. But this is why... we fell in love with you small ones, who burn so brightly... with courage.
The first of leyr... were humans. And the first of humans... arrived riding comets. They went into... the dark vast of Viis... to find our world. They say the journey... took generations of uncertainty. They lost their home. They lost their gods. But fate has... a will. And fate brought them here... and you to me.
Fate could not have done so... had they not had courage... and so we will also... have to step forward through uncertainty.
Ikraam feels great pride weigh his heart at the Undertaker's words. He feels so much love for the corvigere - a familial love, a strong bond forged over the years. Ikraam places his hand on Undertaker's paw, just a light touch, but there to tell how much he cares.
"Why was the humans' homeworld destroyed? Did they ever tell what happened? Did they destroy it themselves, like they almost destroyed this one... with their artefacts? "
There is a certain type of contempt in Ikraam's voice, one he tries his best to hide, but does a poor job of.
"The humans were brave to come here.. all the way through uncaring void.. But at what cost?"
(Edited 2020-11-03 12:44:28)
The Undertaker makes a noise of soft agreement, and though Ikraam's words are hardened and sour, The Undertaker cannot help but feel pride for the fierce protectiveness that bellies Ikraam's harsh concerns.
I do not know... why they had to leave. But I would not be surprised... to learn it was due to hubris. It is true... that many humans are short-sighted... and greedy.
This is because we corvigere... stole all of the best... of mankind... and made you... our children.
I know better now... that because we did this... we must not hide anymore... we must keep them in check. It is difficult... for me and The Archivist... to do this-- it is not our nature. So I am very glad... and very proud... to see the will in you.
Now along with the pride, a heavy duty to pushes down on his shoulders. The Archivist and the Undertaker were the last of their kin, and in that moment Ikraam realises that no matter how eternal they seem, nothing stays. Like Ynoch's will was carried over to Vala and the rest, the corvigeres' will is now being carried over to Ikraam. To keep in check and protect.
To ensure old mistakes would never again be repeated.
I'm.. glad you think of us.. of me.. with pride. I think of being raised by you.. with.. great pride, too. He blushes just slightly. We have to make sure.. nothing like what happened with Ynoch would ever happen again.. That no artifacts will be made or used anymore... Never.
There is a long, still silence where Ikraam sits next to the Undertaker, hand lightly touching his paw, wings tucked away, expression sour and sad, but slowly easing up to a calmer one. Seems he had managed to rationalise his anger.
Can you tell me about artifacts, Undertaker?
Many are built with a purpose... but as they are created from sentient beings... they gain a mind of their own... or they betray their creators. An artifact... should be treated with the same care... as a person.
Artifacts... being made from remains... are often similar to bones. And I may read them... and know their story. But many... do not offer them to me... I have a reputation... for destroying them.
[talk sprite soon]
Awaluu approaches the great form of the Undertaker, all bundled up in a coat made of furs. The previous weeks have not been kind to the tolka, or perhaps, he has not been kind with himself. He looks gaunt, and tired, and the events of Ilya's Trials still haunt him deeply. In a way, he feels responsible for what happened, and has been trying desperately to forget, and rid himself of the horrible memories that still plague him. He approaches somberly, his breath puffing softly in the air.
"Good eve. I hope the day finds you well. As well as can be, anyway, under the circumstances. I feel the loss of Ynoch deeply, Undertaker, and I've come to listen to your stories. Of all her children, which of their stories is your favorite?"
The big tolka asks humbly, his tired voice lifting in curiosity at the last sentence.
(Edited 2020-11-02 17:22:22)
The Undertaker regards Awaluu, and makes a series of soft clicking noises while in thought.
Earlier today I told a tale of Kemichira... Kemichira the thief... was taken from Ynoch... and turned into a tool... Committing deep betrayals. Is this the sort of story... you would like to hear, Ivei'rii?
Awaluu hesitates, and though his expression doesn't change much, he shivers just a bit. The theme of betrayal hits a bit close. Besides that, he's heard the story before, and sounds quiet and hesitant as he answers the great Corvigere, fearful of sounding picky or difficult.
"I did, Undertaker. It is a good story, and you tell it so well, but...I was wondering, if you know any stories about forgiveness? Did Ynoch have any children like you or me?"
His usually bright eyes are dull and tired, but hopeful.
Like me or you...
The Undertaker seems very pleased at this sort of statement, as Awaluu and the Undertaker are outwardly very different creatures in many different ways. Being lumped together is a statement of camaraderie that he finds gentle and comforting.
He begins a story, speaking slowly and deliberately-- the pauses are removed for easy reading.
Ilya laid in the cradle of the world, forming for centuries. But before she hatched, she became aware. She was aware of the shell of earth above her, of the warmth of magma below her. She was aware of life on the surface of Fys' body, and was so excited. One day she would hatch, and she would get to mingle with all of her brothers and sisters on Orrison.
So it was devastating when she finally slithered forth from the cracks the size of her form finally caused in The Egg. She emerged to a barren, frozen landscape. Her presence in The Egg had pulled all warmth and life from the surface, to feed her growing form.
Feeling unforgiveable, she flew immediately away and hid her shame on the moon furthest from Mylic, which was as far as she was able to go before collapsing in exhaustion.
Mylic approached her then, and asked her what was wrong.
She replied fearfully to her mother. If my birth caused such destruction, I must be inherently evil and bad. I do not deserve to be happy or to join the others in celebration of life.
Mylic seized Ilya then, but instead of the strangling judgement Ilya had feared, it was a comforting embrace.
'You feel regret?' Mylic asked. Ilya conceded.
'And you would be willing to work to make things right, even if you did not purposefully cause grief?' Mylic continued. Ilya agreed.
'Then I do not see evil here. I am the judge and I see your intention. I see your acceptance of responsibility. And I see your willingness to change.'
Thus, Ilya agreed to join her mother in her duties as judge, for she realized they were not here to strike down evil- for what is evil?- but to seek intention and encourage responsibility.
Lakas waits until there's less of a crowd around the Undertaker before he approaches; voice tentative.
I... I was right there, when it happened. I felt the forest go quiet, still -- but I don't.... I don't get it. Beings like Ynoch-- has anything like... this happened before? Them --
"Dying" is the word on the tip of his tongue, one he can't quite bring himself to actually say. Its meaning still hangs heavy in the air.
(Edited 2020-11-02 21:11:10)
I am sorry that you had... to serve as witness... but the role you play... is one of great honor.
The Undertaker bows their head slightly to Lakas in respect.
Nothing is permanent. Kings... can die. Gods... can die. Worlds... can die. Our world began... with the sleeping of Fys. It is so that others may be born. Things must end... for things to begin. But if we witness it... if we tell of it... it may go on. That is the power... of Ynoch. The power of... her tales. And of memory.
But I apologize. I am not answering your question, truly. Divinity... is not a binary. It is a spectrum. Ivei will outlive all of us... and Ivei is unreachable by those who would do them harm. A being like Ivei... has not died, in our knowledge, and may never die. But Ynoch, and Migari, and the Archivist, and Me... We have mortal roots. The expanse... of our domain... is much smaller. It has been known to happen... in times before the times you know.
A hesitant pause.
In the time before... gods were hunted. It was not taboo... as it is now. And the killing... of these gods... created artifacts... like that which claimed Ynoch.
The boy seems to only hunch into himself further. Mouth twisting. To witness was an honor? The words did nothing to assuage the heavy, cloying feeling in his throat. He knows the Undertaker's word to be the truth, nonetheless. It's no different than the sermons of the sages.
It's still hard to truly grasp the mortality of it all, I think, but... it's as you say. Those such as Ynoch can persist still through memories, through stories...
He exhales slowly. His brow is less furrowed; more pinched with consideration. A long pause is followed by words in a careful, cautious tone.
The lantern... if you know it's story, or any that might be connected to its... origin, would you share it? There's this-- this awful feeling I can't shake... The way Ynoch...
He trails off, uncertain of what exactly he's trying to say. Or, rather, that he doesn't have the words to even begin doing so.
(Edited 2020-11-06 10:48:57)
The Undertaker is quiet for a moment, as if they are considering not saying something. Lakas is not a leyr, but there's something to be seen in the furrow of his brow and the emotion in how difficult it is to speak the words.
The Undertaker moves very close to Lakas, beak nearly touching the side of the other's head, and speaks much quieter than a creature of his size should be able to. The words are muffled for the whispering.
Keep this... to your discretion... The one who inhabits the lantern... must enter it willingly... and can only be displaced... by another soul who dies... to take its place. I am afraid... that the lantern has since vanished.
Eislen slowly approaches the Undertaker, solemn and sad. He is carefully sheltering the little parcel in his hands that he reveals to be a newly sprouted plant in a small pouch filled with soil from the base of Ynoch's roots as he steps closer.
She was very loved, and she will be missed. From death can also come rebirth though... I found this, growing in the grove when I went to pay my respects at her roots. I wondered if you might like it here, as a small piece of her memory, growing close by.
He gently lifts the little pouch in his hands up so that the Undertaker can see it better. He offers the corvigere a sad smile as he looks at the delicate little plant himself.
Do you have a story that would have been her favorite? Maybe one she might have shared herself, to one who asked?
(Edited 2020-11-04 03:05:41)
The child will... be tended with great care.
The Undertaker speaks as if Eislen had brought an Egg, not a sapling.
Please... leave it with my companion... when you leave.
There is a story... of Ilya's Trials... which I think she would have told... were she still here.
I am not... versed in sharing, please understand. But it goes as this:
The Undertaker takes a deep breath and tells their story-- it takes upwards of 20 minutes due to the pauses, which have been removed for ease of reading :D
Heis and Viis had both chosen champions for their causes, one to create order, and one to sow chaos. Despite all odds, when these two met, they fell in love. They were so different and opposite of one another-- as was intended-- that they realized they perfectly completed one another.
Heis and Viis were both unhappy, as it upset the nature of their competition-- they asked Ilya to break them apart, as neither could be convinced by their own deities. Ilya set upon them trial after trial in the month of her wicked strength. Tests of doubt, tests of betrayal, tests of secrets... but the two quickly realized that they were being tried and in defiance of the gods, they grasped hands and refused to let go of one another for the entire month.
Heis and Viis agreed to a truce, thanks to them, no longer fighting over the state of reality and instead existing in a balance. And those who can hold onto eachother even in uncertain times are said to be true soul mates.
(Edited 2020-11-04 04:22:14)
Whipstitch doesn't typically like talking to average beings, they talk to godlike beings even less. This, however, was the passing of a creature that had touched the hearts of many. An idol for some, a hero for others. Stio wasn't sure where they landed but it was the passing of another Tolka. With a potted plant in hand they slowly approached the Undertaker. Placing it gently on the ground by them they drew in a strained breath, it came in as a hiss that was deep and mournful.
Articulating these emotions was hard for them but it showed clearly with their flattened quills. Each breath came in like a sigh and left with gentle hisses, hopefully the Undertaker knew what they meant. They were really trying to be clear.
The Undertaker's feathers fluff at the emotional hiss that Whipstitch releases. The corvigere tenses, and a shudder of emotion passes over them, rattling the plates of their scales in an echo of the tolka's sounds. It's the most reactive display from the Undertaker than any they've given other more verbal guests. Very slowly, he sinks to the ground, beak almost barely touching the small plant that Whipstitch offered, reverently gentle.
It is a relief, to not have to use so many words to convey the complexity of emotion.
I... am sorry.
Garrett arrives later than most, holding a young leyr in beast form that struggles to escape his arms. He waits patiently for others to leave despite the bags under his eyes, whispering soothing words at the child, who hisses whenever anyone gets too close. When it is finally their turn to step up, Garrett sits, placing the leyr in his lap. She promptly tries to bite his finger, but he points, and the child stills immediately upon seeing the Undertaker, eyes going wide with wonder. He sighs with relief.
This is Kileah, and I found her in the Wilds just under a week ago. She has no family that I can determine. I wish to raise her, but I have no experience as a father, so I come to you seeking advice. He sighs again. It is so difficult to get her to sleep, she doesn't want to relax, I haven't even seen her out of corvileyr form yet. Please, do you have any bedtime stories? Something gentle?
(Edited 2020-11-05 02:58:17)
Nicodemus moved to the front of the crowd, gently stroking a green ball of fluff that clung nervously to the side of his neck. He bowed before the great corvigere, revealing a second ball of fluff clinging to the bone spurs on his upper back. This one pink and mottled golds with purples.
Greetings, Undertaker. I was curious about the chimeru, the ones who loved fire, and were hunted to extinction......
Was it.. Poachers?
the old phteran asks quietly, somber in tone as he attempted to wrangle one infant chimia from his back. The dark green one stares up at The Undertaker with eyes like vibrant cyan embers, smoldering with a depth that betrays her young age.