PM to join [Ironrock] The First Generation

[Tia'aria]

Tia'aria had many dreams over the length of her life, slipping into the chavena in her sleep at times, or just wandering the path of her colourful imagination. She dreamt now, exhausted from a day of sparring with Corsin and worn down by a newborn brother squalling for attention or food or something.

This dream, however, was different.

*~*

B'Erylik had been sleeping quite peacefully, curled up in the sunlight and undisturbed for the better portion of the day. People didn't often walk by his little sleeping spot, not unless they had good reason to. He was a cat. He was practical. He knew where to go to get what he wanted.

He didn't want to be woken up, so great was his desire to sleep. At first, he tried to ignore the scents wafting around him. Kelvic, he knew. But then they began talking. And loudly. He grit his teeth, turned over, and tried to go back to sleep, huffing to show his lack of amusement. More voices came though. They didn't pay attention to him or his desire to carry on his nap.

An eye peeled open, bright and green, to peer out at what was going on. He blinked lazily at the sight of nothing but grass and walls lit by sun. That's right. They were behind him.

Again, the cat huffed to show he really, really didn't want to get up. He had a nice little warm spot here and it would be a whole bell until he managed to warm up another spot the same way, and by then Syna would have moved a bit and he would need to choose a new resting spot.

He got to his feet, stretching and with a large yawn, displaying a great many sharp teeth and a pink tongue, certainly the most flattering of pictures and the one most useful for intimidating noisy Kelvic.

He turned to face the group now and scowled, the best scowl a longhaired tabby cat could manage. His green eyes might have held some amount of disdain. If he had been in Miss Lia's rooms, he wouldn't have been woken by these people. Lia Avatra had made B'Erylik. Or rather, she had made his parents who had then had him. Either way, she was the reason he was alive now. She knew how to appreciate the sleeping needs of a cat. Really, everybody should know. Lia appreciated cats though, unlike these people.

He shifted, in view of them all and with barely the desire to clothe himself (he really hoped this could be solved without leaving his good sleeping spot), the cat furrowed his eyebrows at them and prepared to give them a good lecture about how some people liked to rest and about how rude it was to go about yelling at eachother near a sleeping person.

Like these Kelvic though, he also had a job he should be doing. Having been raised as part of Lia's group, B'Erylik had duties to bring in income for the settlement. He was content to shirk his duty though. Work could be done later, some things had to be done now, though. If Lia came, he would be in so much trouble he should really have just turned over again and folded his ears back.

"Don't you know how rude it is to go about yelling at eachother and insulting eachother when there are people around trying to take a nap?" He exclaimed, not too kindly.

He wasn't a big person as a human. He had reached maturity a few seasons ago and was still stupid to the ways of human tact. He really should have noticed the little human girl, but her scent was overshadowed by the scent of the others to the point he assumed she was a very young B and therefore would mind nudity as much as he did.

The cat almost looked feral as he gestured while he lectured, fueled in the moment by a great deal of frustration over losing the one good spot in the whole settlement due to some bickering kittens. "If you're going to argue, go argue on the moon! I want to sleep, but by the time I get back to my spot it will be cold and I won't be able to sleep there for another bell!" He sure was singleminded in his determination to get his sleep. The dispute may have been done with the words of the child and the bird, but Erylik didn't care for that. He deserved his rest! He was an awesome person, in his opinion, useful for so many tasks that made him so exhausted at the end of the day, he shouldn't be woken up by a group of squabblers, and by Syna's warm light they would know this!

[Ruzekiel Soren]

A'Velin had been watching the proceedings in horror and a little bit of shame. He was wily, and clever, and good at getting out of sticky situations, but when he got riled up...He pushed the embarrassing thoughts out of his mind and focused just on getting this damned human body to move. The girl (Belem, was it?) reached up and gently prodded his chest. “Are you hurt?” she asked, looking up at him with her big, childish eyes. He wanted to reply “No, just my pride,” but he was still unable to move anything but his index finger. “I’d heed the girl’s advice if I were you.” A new bystander, as if this couldn’t get any worse, spoke up. Before the other Kelvic could notice the stiff posture, A’Velin already began to feel his legs start to shake a little under him. He did his best to relax, like Moriarty had taught him, and suddenly his knees buckled and he was face first on the ground. Heh. Like a reprimanded dog. He growled frustratedly and slowly got up, feeling like he was not only stomped on by a horse, but was fully run over by one. Several times. Without meeting anyone’s eye, he cleared his throat and said, begrudgingly but sincere, “Right. I apologize, A’Kenas. I will ah...watch what I say, from now on. Excuse me.” At that he bowed his auburn head just a tad, and walked away from the group, sporting a slight limp, stiff muscles and a heavy heart. He wanted to go back to his den and sleep, but he was supposed to work with this fiery horse, whose bondmate he just unintentionally trashed. And to think they wanted him to do it in this faulty human body. He growled and walked faster, though the leg did smart a bit. Having been there before he quickly found the spot. His “thinking spot”, so he liked to call it, was always there for him. It was hidden among thick underbrush and dense foliage, and beyond the bushes and brambles there was a little pond, barely enough to be called a deep puddle, and a little shelf of earth where he would sit and think. He kneeled down next to the puddle and took a drink. The earthy taste was not unpleasant. He preferred it from the wellwater at Ironrock. This water had personality. He could taste the silt and the bits of leaf and grass sifting around in it. It gave the water texture, made it unique. It tasted wild. Having had that familiar drink, now he sat with his back to a thick oak and watched the tiny bugs on the surface of the pond paddle about. He gathered a few smooth stones and tossed them in with little successive plops. The bigger the stone, the deeper the sound became. He always found that interesting. oocOY, I just noticed that you posted! I was replying to the previous one, but I think it still works. Sorry about that though, haven't been on in a while. Welcome!