Keeping It Together.

by **Archailist** on February 26th, 2014, 7:56 pm

72nd of Winter, 513.

He'd been working hard in his last few days around Nyka, and that was being modest. He felt, though, like he was pushing against a brick-wall. Every day he trained, every day he worked hard through the city to better himself. It was his one aspiration.. it was the reason he'd come here, the reason he'd done everything he'd done in his entire life up to this moment, as far as he was concerned. But he didn't feel like he was getting any better. The more times he climbed up the rooftops, scaled the windowsills, and sprinted between the brightly-dressed citizens on the streets, the more times he just ended up running into things and falling. He should have been able to deal with it all, no problem at all. But he wasn't. Something.. damnit, something was going on. Something kept him from becoming what he always wanted to be. Probably the fact that there wasn't a soul in the city willing to help him. He'd left Syliras because none of the knights would teach him - not unless he became a page. And working all the way up to just a knight, from a page, was a long enough run to put the squirrel off entirely and instead focus his concentration on something else. Nyka, the city filled with every kind of martial art available - trained monks adept in most of every weapon, all there for him to learn from. Except, they wouldn't share their secrets either. It was like a nightmare.

Which was why he'd returned to the out lands, past the fields and out towards the edges of the city, where many did not wish to go. The Pycon didn't really want to, either, considering what had happened last time - the out lands weren't exactly the safest places in the world to visit, with all the wild animals and other things that wandered about the edges of the city, feeding on the scraps and the occasional monk that traveled too far into the Wildlands and got lost. Really, the idea that the Wildlands 'weren't the safest place to visit' was a gross understatement but it made him feel better than the truth. Perhaps it wasn't one of the best places to visit at a time like this, but then again, it wasn't the worst. The trees were still bare, the air still chilled and snow blanketing here and there, but they still stood like huge pillars that held up the sky itself - surrounded by smaller bushes and shrubs that had been stripped of their foliage and left like little skeletons scattered here and there. Thankfully he could use them as platforms to climb up like flimsy netting, before digging his clay claws into the bark and beginning a steady climb up the first tree that he caught eyes on.

The view, once he reached the first branch, wasn't enough. The second was better.. but the fourth was perfect. He could see over the entire forest.. even if what was below was merely a speck. The city wasn't a speck though, far from it.. instead it was more of a bowl, cracked in some places but otherwise fine. Bumps and ridges here and there made out the buildings, with some larger than others, and surrounded by other small specks. Funny and beautiful at the same time, really.. it wasn't something that one could find in Syliras. That was just a big castle surrounded by walls. This was something far better. He turned away after marveling for a while longer, and focused back on the forest and all that stood far, far below. All of the small animals going about their business, like the monks in the city.. birds, mostly. Few things further below, although one in particular shook him out of his reverie before he could process any more. It was a familiar creature, although it strained his eyes to find exactly what it was that could walk so slowly, and hold something in his hand.

by **Archailist** on March 5th, 2014, 5:52 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He couldn't see what it was - but it deemed closer inspection, so he quietly slipped down from the branch and crawled further down the trunk to find a lower branch. With the trees - unlike the buildings that scattered themselves across Nyka - he found a much better grip because of the considerably softer wood and the more grooves provided by the bark. Head-first, he made his way down with his stomach pressed firmly to the trunk and made sure to test the bark before pushing all of his weight onto it.. since the winter had considerably weakened most of the branches. It was even visible.. one only needed to crane their head to find the branches were weak and frail against the calmest breeze. And once again, he found the wonders of climbing up and down trees in the ways of the squirrels. Even though many would often brand it dangerous and reckless, he saw it for what it was - much, much safer than climbing down butt-first. Mostly because he could see where he was going. Every step could be calculated and tested with a scrutinous eye before he pressed against it and carried on. He could see obstacles in his way, in clearer detail than the edges of his peripheral vision. The list just kept going on and on.

And the climbing itself, was becoming easier as well. His claws softened enough to press between the gaps in the bark, and solidified whenever he pulled away to regain their former shape with elastic ease. Of course the trees were easier than the stone buildings but even the were becoming easier. They offered so many grooves that could be transformed into hundreds of little ledges to grapple and tightly hold, the moment his paw pressed against them. The older buildings were even better because of the crumbling mortar and the dents and wounds in the stone flesh, that offered even more texture to use in his climb. Little things, tiny details that would be missed by stubby human fingers became oh-so-much more for the little squirrel.

When he finally reached the lower branches, as silent as a snail, he crawled along to the end of the sturdiest-looking one that he could find and quickly hopped to the next branch, and into the next tree as well. And from there, to the next. It was just a slower and slightly more complicated version of the Nykan rooftops, all he needed to do was be much more careful that the branches didn't snap while he was over them. And of course, the best way to do that was always to test parts of his weight against them. It wasn't like they needed to take that much weight in the first place, but it was always good to be cautious. He didn't want to end up causing too much noise and rousing suspicion. Thankfully there was a breeze and all of the leaves were rustling in the midday air, so he could mask himself comparatively easily. And even if he was caught.. well, it was just a squirrel frolicking between trees as they all did. Nothing in particular. But, the speck didn't turn or flee, and so he continued all the same. A quick leap to a neighboring tree via the closest branch possible, a quick scurry down the length with his tail held out for balance until he could find the trunk.. where he pressed himself in tight, as long as it took to find the next branch he could use. It was a rhythm.

And after a few more crosses, he found the speck.. or rather, the person that had been the speck. The boy-monk that had saved his life, a while ago.. he'd already forgotten his name, although that wasn't really important anyway, was it? "Hey there!" He only needed to say that and the boy-squire turned around suddenly, and revealed the short-bow that he'd been holding tightly in both hands. There was certainly a lot of surprise on his face, although he didn't know why.. it wasn't like he'd been doing his utmost to not be seen, and the boy had proven that he was a pretty good aim on that short-bow on more than one occasion.

"Hey Arch! I wasn't expecting to see you here.. I thought you'd be training?" Well, he had been. Though, he supposed that he could explain himself to the monk without fear of looking like a complete idiot. He respected him that much. Perhaps he could even offer some advice - he'd not had much conversation since their last 'meeting'.

"Yeah, I was..." he replied shortly afterwards, while climbing slowly down the trunk of the tree until he found the lowest branch, and then climbed out to the very end and hopped straight off the edge and into the boys cupped palms. He didn't give any warning though, so Eric had little time to react and ended up dropping the short-bow in favor of the Pycon. Arch just took it in his stride and continued talking like nothing had ever happened. "... but I'm having trouble keeping up the rhythm. Training day in, day out.. all the time, trying to find something new." He even gave a little sigh afterwards - more out of exhaustion than depression. Well, the constant exertion would wear anyone dry, even a Pycon such as himself.

The boy stared, and thought, for a while. Really, longer than was necessary in the Pycons eyes. But when he did say something, it was at least worthwhile. "Well.. I'm no expert, but I know that you shouldn't just do the same thing over and over.. sometimes, you just need to relax a bit, take it easy." The boy couldn't give much advice, he knew... he had no reason to believe the boy knew anything about being a knight, or anything about all of the training that the Pycon was always doing.. and neither did he give any sign today. But by far and large, it was some of the best advice he could have possibly asked for. He didn't even really have enough time to thank the human while he was still on those cupped palms - he was already turning and bounding straight off, back to the tree again.

"Thanks!"

by **Archailist** on March 5th, 2014, 6:52 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He should have thought about it sooner - working so hard through the days, trying to push himself to the limits.. but all he really needed was to relax, and take it all in. What he needed was to sit down and start focusing on the fact that he needed to work on his body, and not just running about and trying to avoid everyone else. It would be something new, but he'd try it anyway. Just to test it - just to make sure that it worked, above all else. Which was why he quickly swung between the trees, from one branch to the next without even a thought for the branches or their security. Whenever he passed over one that bent for his weight, he made sure to immediately shift over to the next one closest and use that to continue. It left some close calls of course, with some of the branches snapping away underneath his feet, but the falls weren't very far and although there was little foliage around the branches, there were plenty of actual branches to catch him... or for him to catch. He was fine. Those things didn't matter any more.

What mattered was finding a sturdy branch, fairly close to the ground. There was one not too far away that he could easily reach - and he did. It seemed as though a bubble had been burst all of a sudden, all of his fatigue and bad luck, gone.. maybe it was just him that was causing it. Once he set himself on the branch, he tested its rigidity with a few sturdy stomps of his feet and a quick stride up and down. Seemed good enough.. and though it was fairly thick, there wasn't all that much distance to the ground in case he fell. He wouldn't, though.

Now, he was free to relax. Although he didn't have the ability to close his eyelids - after all, he didn't have eyelids exactly - he did manage to 'close his eyes' by shutting out the sense of sight entirely and focusing instead inside as he took the equivalent of long, deep breaths, with his mouth hanging open and loose. All of his joints, as well.. all of his non-existent muscles. They all slowly loosened, until he was quite ready to literally melt. Every breath, drawing out a bit more of that tension that he didn't know that he'd kept balled-up somewhere in his body, slowly released. And once it was all out, the edges of his mouth curled into a little smile all on their own. Then, he allowed sight to return, and lifted both of his stubby arms above his head, swallowed, and tipped forwards while bending down at the waist so that his hands touched the branch first, and then his feet left it.

The first time, he didn't manage to get his legs up fast enough and they fell back down to the branch. His claws kept a good grip on the branch to stop his arms moving anywhere, but his legs took a different stance. He didn't let it bother him.. it was just the first time, no matter. The second time, he got a bit higher, and wobbled slightly before his balance began to tip one way and then another. For a moment, he worried about just tipping completely off the branch, but it soon landed again and he grunted with the strain on his arms and especially around the shoulder joints. But he could do it, damnit. He could do it better than anyone else.

So, he tried again. He wasn't giving up. His toes sprung, legs tilted back and over his own head, poised in place.. balance tipped back and forth slowly, but the Pycon focused quietly, inwardly. Mass inside his body began to move consciously, feeding into one side or another and causing a few more wobbles until he could find the right spot.. and.. there! The wobbles stopped, and the position stabilized. He could feel it all leveling out, as he held the place with a few tweaks here or there, a bit of clay moving this way and that way.. and it was hard. Very hard, in fact, to keep the position and the balance all in order, but he held himself there by will, and forced his arms to endure and his clay to sustain itself, and it did. Barely.

But, he was doing it. Balanced, upside-down in a handstand that had his tail and legs held out straight above his head, he was poised and stood, slowly shifting himself and testing to find a better balance.. but he still stood. He was so utterly focused on his task, maintaining the position of equilibrium between his center of mass and the effects of gravity acting all over his body.. that he didn't even remember that he'd run off and left Eric behind without even so much as a good-bye until he finally came down again and sat on the edge of the branch, with his legs hanging over the edge and a confident smile spread wide over his muzzle. Oh, he had to do that again. He had to test just how far this could possibly go.. how much he could manipulate himself, reshape himself in order to shift his balance in an entirely new way. The mere thought was like a whole new adrenaline rush all over again.

by **Archailist** on March 5th, 2014, 7:17 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

It was also around this time, or somewhere close to it, that he realized something quite important; he should have started doing this quite a while ago. In fact, it was one of the first things he really should have started - long before he tried to outrun all the cultists and monks, and tried to practice and perfect his combat skills. Exploring the different ways that his body could change, and the ways that he could manipulate the clay that his body composed of, to produce different shapes, different limbs even, was a whole sea of potential that could be used in so many ways he couldn't even begin to imagine what implications it could have for his knighthood and beyond. He'd never even noticed some of the ways it was already being harnessed but the more he thought about it, the more he surprised himself - his tail was an example of it. He'd been using it for ages as a mass of clay to alter balance, whether on top of buildings or mid-air.. but that was exactly it. He was manipulating parts of himself to help in his acrobatics. His claws, as well - not just used for climbing, and pulling himself up buildings. He could turn them into weapons - some of many. He could even imagine himself, shaping himself into a multitude of weapons, with which to vanquish his foes and remove those that would threaten Syliras and any who doubted his prowess, and his worthiness of knighthood.

He slowly - very slowly - began to swing his legs around into odd new positions. Testing the mass that flowed within his body, the clay that composed it.. flowing into different points of his body and out again, with his lower body slowly swinging farther and farther out over the edge of the building. The more his lower body and hips slowly leaned out, though, the more mass flowed out from his insides and into his tail, specifically around the tip. It kept equilibrium there, and kept things stable.. he could feel the subtle changes in balance and body as he turned it this way and that, expanding on different parts. Of course, there were precarious wobbles here and there.. more than a few, actually. But he had a firm grip on the ledge with his fingers, molded slightly into the smallest little dents in the stone. He'd be fine, probably. And if he wasn't, well, he'd just know that he'd gone a little too far. Just something new to learn and explore. A limit reached. No matter - just something else he knew. He needed more, though.

Still, he experimented. One leg moved forwards and down, his tail turned at an angle. All the while, the squirrel wobbled in place as he began to struggle to keep up the mass in all of the different internal currents, going this way and that way. A little wobble here, a shift there.. and it seemed like everything was fine one moment but the next, the squirrel had toppled over and fallen from the branch. Now he was really happy that he'd chosen the branch hat was quite close to the ground, because he didn't need to worry about impact. All the same, he tried to do something to help and brace for impact... and for once, it worked. All those times before, it hadn't.. but this time, it actually worked.

More instinct than anything, he turned his tail and tried to orient his limbs. But this time, when his tail pulled out and around behind his body, it tipped his balance as he fell and suddenly he found that he was facing the ground on the way down. His arms and legs spread out beneath him, and.. caught his landing. It wasn't smooth.. but he retained most of his body. And little damage. Astonishing...

But.. he supposed that more exploration would have to wait for another day. The wilderness that guarded the edge of Nyka wasn't Syna's light was fading from the sky and the last thing he waned was to be out and about past the curfew that he'd heard Naia talking so much about. If he sprinted back, then he'd make it in time though.. so sprint he did. Weaving around the trees and various obstacles stacked around the edges of the Wildlands, fallen branches and stumps marking the graves of old trees.. even bushes and boroughs, that were now covered in blankets upon blankets of snow like all the rest of it.

by **Archailist** on June 9th, 2014, 7:35 pm

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It may not have been difficult to distract the squirrel - from little things anyway. The larger things, the burning curiosities and the aspirations would never be so easily pushed aside for something else. But the little details, like footprints in the snow crossing the path he'd been sprinting on, stopped him in his tracks for a closer look. After all, he'd never really seen monks coming any farther than the Farmlands. The only exception being Eric, since he'd seen the boy earlier that day. But the footprints weren't heading towards the city. Perhaps they were made earlier - perhaps they weren't even Eric. But for some reason, it made the squirrel incredibly curious.. and he deviated just a little, in favour of tracking the markings on the ground. There was no need to climb a tree this time so he didn't - instead, he ran as fast as he possibly could through the thin layers of snow still covering the ground. And that was harder than it sounded.

Because the squirrel was small, with stubby arms, it meant that even a comparatively thin layer of snow for a human would be easy to cross. But for a squirrel, however, the layers of snow even thin, would be a chore because if they reached his chest - which only had a few inches height - then he would have trouble. And this was a few inches in height. Every step caused more snow to gather at the front of his body as if the squirrel was now employed as a tiny little snow-shovel. And eventually, it all became so much that he could barely see where he was going. And, as much as he didn't like it for once, he had to take the trees. The problem was, with the tracks on the ground and a clear view of them, he could run and that would be that. Climbing trees and crossing them required much more effort, at the cost of speed... he usually used climbing to give a wide view over an area, but he didn't need that now.

Reluctantly, he picked out the nearest tree he could based on the height of the lowest branch and the general spots he could find best suited for a quick climb, and up he went. The knots made the climb moderately easy but the snow and ice that layered parts of the tree and its branches made the grips more slippy than usual - not to mention that a lot of the bark was looser than usual. It wasn't anything that posed a particular problem but it just added to the effort that he had to put into it. More than once on the climb up to the canopy of the forest, the branches he gripped unexpectedly snapped away or creaked and shocked the squirrel enough to lose his hold. But, he gritted his teeth and carried on. He needed to find what was going on with Eric.. or whoever it was that thought the Wildlands would be a good place for an evening stroll, and the middle of Winter would be a good time to do it. Most likely the same reason he thought it was, on hindsight.

When he reached the canopy, he found that it was incredibly difficult to see down below again - to find the path required nearly five chimes just squinting with his eyes to find the path and make out the small trail of footprints leading off. He was at the lowest end of the canopy - if he traveled any higher than this, he'd risk losing the trail entirely. But to stay on the lowest portion would also be incredibly difficult, because most of the lower branches are the ones exposed to the worst and therefore expected to fall off and die quicker. If he fell, the layer of snow would blanket his fall assuredly.. but that didn't mean he wanted to fall. In fact, falling was the last thing he wanted to do, because falling onto that snow would mean messing up the footprints and losing the path of whoever it was that'd made them. So, nervously, he glanced about for the tree that had the closest branches, and quickly hopped across the narrow gap between him and them - before immediately sprinting down the limb as fast as his paws could carry him, and leaping up to grip the trunk tightly. Moments before the limb shuddered, creaked, and snapped. "Petch."

There could be no doubt in his mind by now. This was going to be more of a trial than he'd had in a while. Usually that would excite him, but he was tired. He wanted to go back to the hostel and have a good lie down.

by **Archailist** on June 10th, 2014, 11:08 am

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The next few trees went along in fairly the same way as the first. Many of the branches were unstable to the point of suicide and he had to change routes more than once - although this just caused more problems because it meant that he couldn't see where the track led until he reached the point that he could only guess it continued at. Stopping again and again made him aware of something else, too. The cold - at first the bite was minimal because of the clay squirrels constant movement, but every time he had to stop and stand still, it grew like a gnawing sensation spreading over the tips of his claws. Slightly eerie and very uncomfortable - he had to shake them and start shifting their forms back and forth in order to restore feeling, but it was still there. That odd sensation running over his entire body. Well, he was made of clay.. and even animated clay would react in very specific ways to the cold. It wasn't like he was hardening.. but he was growing stiff. His joints were becoming a bit more difficult to manipulate.

The longer it went on, the more he decided to simply get the whole thing over with - and the more rushed he became. More branches begun to snap and break, but he ran along them at enough pace - and occasionally jumped high enough - to be able to get off before they collapsed to the floor below. The trail beneath was only an occasional blur to glance at, and he couldn't even be entirely sure if it was the right path or just a little raise in the snow, but that wasn't important. He wanted to get out of here. Screw the person, whether they were lost or trapped or what! He wanted to go home, he wanted a bed an a warm meal, he wanted to be able to relax after a hard day!

Hey, who's there?" a voice suddenly called out. The squirrel stopped dead in his tracks and glanced back and forth over the small spot of ground he'd last seen the tracks, but the trees overhead were blocking out the light and he couldn't see them anymore. Nor whoever it was that had called out. Now he was very happy that he'd chosen to take a tree - he could get a wide view over most of the area, and not to mention, he was hopefully out of reach of whatever it was. Except, he wasn't. A quick hop over to the next tree, and a dash to the nearby trunk in the hopes of getting a wider view nearly got the squirrel killed as an arrow shot out from the dense mountains of snow underneath the tree, and nearly sliced a clean hole through one of his arms. The squirrels breath caught in his throat and he struggled to swallow it as he tried to regain his breathing... but as he did, something else struck him right in the head. And it wasn't an arrow - it was understanding.

"Wait... Eric?!" There was only one other person that could shoot an arrow like that.

"Oh, thank goodness, it's just you Arch.. you scared me. I thought I was being stalked or something." After that close encounter, it was easy to spot the human stood just underneath the tree he was already sat upon. A quick slip off the branch, and he landed squarely on the boys shoulder. "I was just about to start heading home.. it's been a pretty uneventful day. All the animals are holed up for the winter and I didn't manage to get any hunting done at all." Thank goodness. It was all a false alarm. He could relax a little.

"I thought you might have been lost.. after all, I saw your footprints!"

"Huh? I was just out hunting is all."

Continued here.