Closed [the silver silver tavern] no time to breathe (cyril)

[Patrigan]

4 of fall, 514 a.v.
halfway through the eighteenth bell

Patrigan’s hands were working in the water basin when his vision failed him for the first time. At once, the world was off-kilter; he blinked, and the world righted. He wiped at the sheen on his forehead with an arm, keeping a firm grip on a slithery plate.

The plate slid through his fingers. It clattered into the basin. Patrigan forgot to move to pick it up.

“You all right?” The gruff voice shook the edges of his vision. Neither he nor Jeb turned around to look at the other.

“I’m fine,” said Patrigan. “I can still work.” It was the better part of the lie.

“Get out.”

“No, I —”

“Good-bye,” said Jeb. “I haven’t use for a worker who can’t work.”

The words stung more than Patrigan thought they would, but he knew if he tried to stay he’d be slung over Jeb’s shoulder like a sack of beans and be thrown out. It wouldn’t look good at all. So he tipped his head in Jeb’s direction, and slid out through the back.

There was little space to walk behind the Silver Silver Tavern before you stepped out over the edge and plunged into the blue below — a tight little boardwalk. He knew he ought to walk home, but he needed space to breathe before he attempted that trek; he leaned against the back wall of the tavern, and closed his eyes.

OOCHope this is OK!

[Cyril]

Flying was fun, delightful, really, seeing people’s faces light up at the sight, or perhaps confusion as to why there was a eagle of different colors flying around the city. There wasn’t much for her to do these days, anyway, with no friends or preoccupations, distracting her from boredom, but she knew someday that she’d be bored of it, and she easily got bored of things. Hunting was still fresh to her, in an actual forest where actual things were living, which would also occupy her for awhile, too. Trying to get arrows out of bark that was actually strong was already a pain, but thank the gods she hadn't broke any arrows yet, but she felt like it was doomed to happen.

She kept flying, swooping around at the city square, taking in the sight of the children looking at her, looking amazed to the point where she wanted to caw in amusement, as they looked like bloody idiots, they're mouths agape with awe. She perched at a small niche of a building, and the children slowly walked towards her, and she wanted to shree so badly now, trying to be stealthy when she already saw them- ha! They were slowly coming too close to what a usual bird would let them, sending them a quick glance, then flying away quickly.

"Did the bird see us?"

"Nah, we were right behind the thing. Surely.."

The rest of the conversation she didn't hear, and being called thing annoyed her, but she was pretty much used to it now. It was almost time for her to get some food, so she would have to find somewhere to land, or just jump into the forest and eat some rat- no, those days were over. Hares, squirrels that were properly fed. Delicious. But she needed to pretend she was human, so she had better get used to it.

Flying near the docks, there was a tavern, small little boardwalk there, near the water. It was nice to watch during the evenings, her being there few times before. One of the more pretty things she'd seen in her, say, 3 years of life? Age didn't really matter to her, she just wanted to live it- life was about the journey, not the desitination. She swooped down to the boardwalk, landing and beginning to change, soon finishing.

She turned around, seeing a young man, and swore louder than she wanted to. Her life was on his hands, now. Piss, what the hell was she thinking! Don't let habit get to you, oh my god, now her life was in this damned strangers hands who wanted the cash to give her to that.. Torture area. She took a deep breath, feeling more scared than she would admit.

"Please.. Don't call them." She raised her hands up. What would that do?! He could still call them, after all. Petch, petch, peeeeettttttcccch.


OOC: I hope this is ok.