Solo [Flashback] Ratting Out The Rats

[Bloodfight]

The Cyphrus/Sylira Border Summer 45th, 504AV Note : Bloodfight still does NOT have his name yet, so throughout this thread he will be refferred to as "Wingless Child" or "Halfling" or any sort of meaning refferring to a half Zith child! He is also currently 3 years old in this thread, and we know how fast Zith grow.. In my head, or concept of him, he looks to be about.. 6 years old, if you were to put it in human years. Night had fallen, and with the top-side occupants of the grasslands having of gone to sleep, its bottom-side occupants awoke just as Synas last rays graced the land to give into Leths moon lit sky, glittering with Zintilas stars. Near the tip of Cyphrus, towards the Sylira borders was a cave which opened into the underground caverns. Descending steeply, with stalagmite and stalactites on either sides of the seeming path downwards dripped with the mineral rich water from the ceiling of the cave. The winds that were calm outside seemed to howl as they entered through the cave mouth; travelling downwards and waning after a long ways. Life slowly began to make itself known as small bats screeched, and rats squeeked and scurryed through the smaller holes and tubes within the caverns. Suddenly there were screams echoing throughout the caverns, bouncing against the walls and rebounding, their echolocative signals silent to the ears of any near being that could not hear the high pitch noises, winged humanoid beasts dashed through the path and flew out into the sky as the hunt for prey was on. Leaving the young of the beasts, the slaves to the beasts, and a few women folk to their nightly day activiities. These people, or things, living under the ground that had wings were the Zith, the pests of the lands; enslaving, pillaging, and raping many of the non-animalistic races. Out of the six broodlings there ranging from different ages, there was one child in particular who had a mean glare in his eyes as he would watch a cavern wall. Arms crossed with long, shaggy red hair, covering his eyes and perhaps long enough to rest just above his buttocks. The child had lodged himself in a little nook, resting comfortably as he gave the cavern wall a scrutinizing gaze as if expecting something to happen. For a few moments, there was nothing going on besides for the communications between his fellow 'play' mates and care taker. Though the boy paid no attention to them, his gaze was fixated on a certain, naturally formed shelf like ledge in the wall opposite him. Ears straining hard, he listened, he thought he saw something up there before but he couldn't be sure. Lately there had been accusations of food being taken from the store room, alot of those arguments stabbed at his Masters pride, pointed at him for being small and stealthy enough to sneak in and filch from the rest of the colony. That had been from the farthest of truthes, the small boy hadn't been taking food! He wasn't stealing. "He's hiding.." a voice whispered, one of the other children to the caretaker. "Then lets find him," the caretaker said, quietly, "he's over there." There was movement, he saw it- the wingless zith child made a start upwards, having of seen the scurries of a small animal. Nibbling away at a mushroom and peering out at the cave, before turning promptly and fleeing as the caretaker made a loud, and sudden noise that could have been akin to a cheerfully sadistic squeek.

[Bloodfight]

"Wingless boy!" She said, taking the small boy off gaurd by grabbing his leg from his little niche in the wall and pulling him down with a jerk and pull. Effectively causing the small, thin child with nary a rag to call his own, to fall from his place and into the loving arms of his caretaker while his Master was out hunting with the rest of the adults. Naturally, the child resisted being in such an awkward embrace and struggled against it, growling and trying to push himself away from the hugging monster. "Let go!" He schrieked, struggling still in the zith womans grasp to only recieve a sharp slap to the face, claws and palm, once he had been set down. Making him stumble a bit to the ground and hiss out his pain, it wasn't his place to demand things from those with wings, even if it was the simplest request to be let go, he knew his place and how the others veiwed him but rebelled against it when his Master was not there. They couldn't do anything to him without his Masters permission anyways, or at least; not brutally beat him into submission, or kill him. "What are you doing? Are you planning on sneaking into the food room again?" She pointed her finger at him, shaking it and growling out her words filled with poison and menace, without giving the child a chance to explain himself first she continued right on scolding and tearing his will down "you little thief, I don't see why your mother let you live after that petching incident." The wingless child simply stared at the ground and held his cheek, eyes watering, he had to bite back his tears of pain lest he'd show her that he was weak "..I didn't steal anything.." he breathed out, glancing up at his caretaker now turned, secret torturer. The malicious look in her eyes towards him made him shudder, cringe with fear of the sadistically evil woman. Flinching as another blow came to his shoulder now, instead of a palm, it was now just claws, slicing his shoulder and filling the caverns with his now pained yells. There was no escape for him as she gripped his hair hard, brought his own face close to hers, he tryed to lean away but her grip on his hair kept him from doing anything. "You're a little liar, you know that? You, and your filthy human blood," she spat in his face before letting him go, sauntering back over to the other children and leaving the wingless child to deal with his pain. Of which he had slowly started to grow accustomed to, it still just burned, so he sat there, rocking back and forth biting a knuckle of his to supress anymore screams. Breathing into his hand, with eyes squeezed shut and tightly, he took in rythmetic breaths in and out to control himself. Just because he was wingless, and living with the grace of his master, in her bedroom- didn't mean he was a mindless slave that would just sit there and take it like an animal. He was better than animals, and other 'slaves'. Far better- his mother had said so. The thought brought him only a little comfort, but he finally was able to get up and ignore whatever pain still throbbed in his face and shoulder. Now walking over to the area which had the shelfish like ledge, peering up at the hole, no one knew what was inside it- and any scent that wafted through was purely fresh air so it must have led up to the surface. With that however, as his suspicions grew into belief, the wingless child started to connect the dots. His life depended on it if he was going to protect his Masters reputation, he was a good boy for her, not a bad one.

[Bloodfight]

Glancing behind himself, the boy quickly took in where the others were and especially where the sadistic caretaker was. If he even displayed once any skills they deemed to be 'sneaky' to them unwittingly, he would be caught, and most likely forced to hang around with the other children. Grudgingly. On the other side of the caverns, 3 of the other boys were wrestling around while the one girl watched on, goading them to do more along side the other two girls; one of them was watching the wingless child intently from a distance. Both their gazes had caught the other watching each other, she looked away disdainfully to watch the wrestling matches now going on. Leaving a peturbed wingless boy, frozen in his place, heart racing, and finally catching in his throat to rest there for a full three seconds, paralyzing him. It wasn't like he was afraid of her, she was just more lovely than any of the other Zith children, much gentler than the others but could still be just as viscious and resentful as the next Zith to her. Shaking his head he, shook himself out of that odd moment and returned to scouting the caretaker out. The evil zith woman didn't seem to be anywheres nearby, perhaps she was on the ground of the cave floor where the other slaves were? There was no time to check, so he turned back around to examine the wall with the hole, quite possibly now as the halfling was closer to it, could fit a small child just enough to wiggle on through, or namely- himself. The wall itself was ridged and bumpy, smooth with small craggy surfaces his feet or hands could latch and grab onto. Solveing this mystery of the missing food was the most important thing right now to him, to patch his mothers pride up, protect it. He could not fail. Taking no thought on the risks that would happen if he were to fall, he only let the gain direct him to begin climbing up. Clasping a ridge and then searching for a stable latch for his foot, trying to let the soles of his feet stick to the rock and not slip downwards. Then he would lift his other arm, searching with that hand for a higher ridge he could grab, and then slowly began to pull himself up. The next latch which he could grab was longer than his arm length, and there seemed to be no other ridge for his foot to step on, so with as much delicacy as he could perform he let go with one of his hands and brought his foot slowly upwards to step on that. The feeling, to say the least was very uncomfortable and he could feel the strain in his leg and thigh muscles. Pushing that foot upwards, he held onto dear life with his one and and reached for the next ridge he could grasp onto flimsily. All of his body began to shake, tremble as he kept himself on there, there was no possible way he could get to that ledge without falling. There were far too many smooth ridges. Breathing deeply, his arms began to shake as well as he kept himself up there, he began to do the same thing as before, let go with one hand, and then replace that said hand where it had been with his other foot. This was impossible, he felt his fur dampen as he sweat, from the strain in his body, and the nervousness which came with climbing. Yet, he was half way there it seemed, this was not the time for sweaty palms, or slippery feet.

[Bloodfight]

In reality, the furball wasn't very high up on the wall to begin with, but with how many big pulls and pushes he had to do, he was almost there. So close to his destination, he just needed to reach up and grab that ledge. Doing so, he felt his grasp on part of the bit he had held on to deteriate, slipping, out of desperation he pushed up with his legs and grabbed onto the ledge. His feet gave out from underneath him, and the strain on his one arm, with the shoulder cuts stung like no one could believe. Flailing almost wildly with his other hand, he held onto the ledge with both his hands and began pulling himself up with great difficulty. The halfling was by no means, light, despite the hollowness in his bones, and in the end he had to let go after a few moments of hanging there; trying to pull his weight with his scrawny arms desperately. Landing on his feet, the impact to the ground caused his knees to bend, and his body to fall backwards and connect with the ground. He had rolled with the force and did not take any substantial damage from the fall, but his body was sore, and his arms felt like tearing themselves off. He stayed like that, before rolling to be on his front; freezing and looking where his head had been and then the area just behind where his head had rested, there was a sharp looking stalagmite. He hadn't exactly noticed it before, but the ledge had a bunch of stalacites and stalagmites in a circular like pattern around it. Had his head gone any further, he might not have been alive right then and there to spark an idea within his silly little noggin. Not think anything more of it, the idea had been ingenious- why did he not think of it before? The boy crouched to a kneeling position, eyeing the rocks which connected from the ceiling to the floor. There were tons on one side, thick, but on the other side they seemed to be rather sparse and thin. What mattered about those small details, they were in a circular pattern and the portrusion in the ground where he might have landed, acted as the opening. Maybe I can climb those rock things..? He thought to himself. On the side which had the thicker stalagnates, the ones which connected from the ground to the ceiling, there seemed to be a bulbous shaped like rock that travelled to the ledge. The thing was, the boy would have to somehow get up there, and reach for the ledges top opening and then put his feet on the lower opening and just swing himself in there. It was far fetched, but to him it seemed plausible, he didn't actually know how big the small tunnel was but he would scrunch himself up if need be. But how would he hold onto the top bit? If he couldn't pull himself up in the first place! His ideas sounded great in theory, but if he were to test them out.. Well, he didn't want to think of what might happen if he fell down a second time.