In Need of a Good Home

by **Phobius** on November 7th, 2014, 8:30 pm

77th of Fall, 514 AV

Horse hooves pounded at the ground, sending up clots of grass and dirt as the Zavian galloped. Having to grip the reins even tighter as he was jostled around on the creature's back, Phobius grimaced a little and thought about how this had been exactly what he'd wanted to avoid, in the first place.

Araphos wasn't used to the city's winding streets and swapping buildings. Not like the boy was, anyway, and so he figured that it'd be a good idea to wait until the horse was led out of the city to get up on his back. For a while the plan seemed to be working, but then they were a few yards away from the Gaping Maw, their only entrance and exit, and Phobius decided that he didn't need to wait, anymore.

Within a few ticks of him getting himself on the saddle, the creature broke into an energetic sprint. Startled, Phobius had to grab at fistfuls of the horse's mane to keep himself from flying off, the actual reins flapping about in the ensuing wind. Araphos didn't seem concerned about his rider's plight, either, acting as if he'd wanted nothing more than to leave the city for the last few days, and now that he had his chance he was taking it.

It wasn't until they'd went through the cave's mouth that Phobius was able to gain some control. At the same time the horse seemed to slow down, little by little, the urge to run leaving him as they got themselves further and further away from the massive wall of stones. Tugging on his reins, the boy managed to bring the horse to a stop.

"Geez, Ar-Ar," Phobius muttered once the Zavian had calmed, sparing one of his hands to reach up and scratch him behind the ears. "I know you're probably happy and all, but you can't go doing that, okay? What if I would've fell off?"

A rhetorical question, but the creature snorted, and it was a sound that could have easily been mistaken for laughter. Phobius let out a sigh. "I guess I can't really blame you, though, huh?" he continued, his tone softening. "I mean, we haven't gone riding anywhere for a long time, now, and I told you that we would, but...I took too long. I'm sorry."

There was no response this time, save for a few ear twitches. The boy took it as a sign that he was more or less forgiven. A smile coming to his face, he gave Araphos a pat on the head and leaned back a little, re-settling himself into the saddle. Gently nudging the horse with the heel of his boot, the two continued onward into the valley. Phobius had never given it much thought, but it was occurring to him now that Alvadas seemed to be flanked by two seas instead of one: the Sultran sea with all of its saltwater, and this valley with all of its green, vibrant grass.

It'd been a while, but the boy could recall some woodlands being nearby, back when he'd first arrived at the City of Illusions. He hadn't really gone "outside" at all since then, so today would be as fun of an experience as it was a needed one. Araphos certainly seemed to be looking forward to it.

In all honesty, Phobius wasn't sure why he had chosen this day out of earlier points in the season. It hadn't been a busy Fall, in terms of courier duties...though it seemed like most of his time had been eaten up by strange occurrences and chance meetings with friends, both new and not-so-new. That didn't, however, excuse him from making good on the promise that he'd made to the Zavian.

The weather was warm, the sky was a cloudless blue...in a way, it was the perfect day and the perfect time to go riding. Now I kinda wish that I'd brought some snacks, Phobius mused, his grip starting to loosen on the reins as they trotted along. This would be a great place for a picnic. And Ar-Ar loves pears...I can buy him some when we head back.

[695]

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

by **Phobius** on November 18th, 2014, 8:30 pm

After being cooped up inside of the city for so long, it almost felt strange to be out. Phobius was normally adamant about being outdoors, having long since made himself comfortable among the trees and shrubs and little, scurrying animals. When he was a few years younger, back in Wind Reach, he'd struggle to find as much time during the day as he could to dedicate to being out, which was never much, considering that he could easily make himself miss a meal as a result. There were woodlands that sat on the fringes of the mountain-based city, and it took a good while to get there, but he never minded, more than happy to deal with the journey.

Suddenly, uninvited memories of home were flooding into the boy's mind. He frowned a little, then shut his eyes and shook his head, as if to send them flying out of his ears. It didn't work.

In a way, he supposed that it would have happened sooner or later. Alvadas and Wind Reach were completely different from one another, but if he imagined that the valley and the looming treeline were coated in a thick blanket of snow...well, it'd be hard to tell them apart, then. Phobius didn't like to think about home, but sometimes it just happened and there wasn't much that he could do about it.

Thinking about home made him kind of homesick. At the moment, he was recalling all the times he'd spent his days just wandering about the forests. It was always comfortably quiet, and he could climb up trees if he wanted to, or get twigs and draw pictures in the dirt, or simply sit and watch the squirrels and beetles and birds that would pass him by. On occasion he'd get a little snack-ish, and while the boy barely understood anything about herbalism or what plants did what, he'd learned to watch what things the bigger animals would eat. Berries and the like were scattered all over the place, and if a deer or a bird ate some from a particular bush, that'd mean that they were safe.

Thinking about home reminded him of how much he'd liked animals more than people. People were mean and said mean things to you to hurt your feelings, but animals did none of that because they couldn't talk. They were really good listeners, too, and Phobius found that he could say things to them without worrying about being laughed at or yelled at, or called not-nice names.

Phobius shook himself out of his thoughts, again, not wanting to focus on them for too long. Usually when that happened, he'd get sad. Then he'd have to think about why he was sad, and from that point on it was just a steady downward slope into more sadness. Giving Araphos' reins a sideways tug, he steered the horse to the left, bouncing a bit as they began to weave their way into the first line of trees. The valley was nice and all, but Phobius figured that his friend would want to do more then just walk around in the open air. Maybe they could find a fallen tree to jump over, or a stream with some clean water that they could drink from. The boy wasn't feeling very thirsty, but he wasn't too sure about Araphos, seeing as how the horse had been in the Unstable Stables' care for a while, now. His mottled brown pelt had a healthy sheen to it, and he was definitely feeling energetic, so Mister Raingrass was taking good care of him. Not that he'd ever been worried to begin with; the stable owner had seemed like he really liked his horses.

As the warm light of the sun filtered itself into dappled rays, seeping through gaps in the thick canopies of the surrounding trees, Phobius let his eyes wander around. Nothing in particular had caught his interest; he was simply letting himself enjoy the atmosphere and the feelings of peace that it created. For a tick or two, he even considered taking his katinu off, since the weather was nearly warm enough to make the fur-lined insides of the coat bother him. As much as he liked to be fully-clothed, he didn't want to end up sweating a whole lot. It made him feel icky.

Holding his scarf down with his chin so that it wouldn't slide off, Phobius began to shrug his way out of the coat, wiggling his arms until the sleeves had been loosened as he simultaneously tried to keep his balance on the horse's back.

And then Araphos stopped.

...Huh? Confused, Phobius paused and blinked at his friend. "Something wrong, Ar-Ar? You don't have to stop for me; I'm good at multi-t...multi-ta...doing two things at the same time. I won't fall off," he insisted, giving the creature a few pats on the head. That was when an odd sound seemed to reach his ears.

The boy wasn't sure about it at first—they were in a forest, after all, so there were bound to be some noises, no matter how quiet it currently was—so he ignored it. But it continued and, as faint as it was, Phobius found himself straining to hear it, his curiosity piqued. Araphos was acting as though he could hear it, too, his head turned and upright, his ears facing forward. Maybe that was why he'd stopped?

"...what do you think it is, buddy?" the boy murmured, still patting the horse, though his full focus was on the noise, now.

It didn't sound like anything normal, and he couldn't remember having ever heard something like it, before. Which made him all the more curious.

After a few ticks of waiting and listening, Phobius gave the horse a final head-pat before adjusting his grip on the reins. They'd barely been out for a bell, and already an adventure had presented itself to them. Granted that it wasn't any sort of dangerous adventure, the day was getting better and better. "C'mon. We're gonna go find it!"

[1014]

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

by **Phobius** on December 5th, 2014, 8:13 pm

With the strange sound as their compass, the boy and his horse made their way deeper into the forest. Phobius, who was truthfully a little worried about getting lost, kept his eyes open for any weird-looking plants or trees as they went; he wanted to make himself a sort of mental map, so he'd be able to lead them back into the valley without panicking or going around in circles for bells. The forest was pretty and all, but the boy had no intention of staying here until nightfall. Night was usually the time when the unfriendly creatures came out.

The sound grew louder and louder as the ticks went by, and before long Phobius was able to think of a name for it. In his mind, squeaking seemed to be the appropriate thing to call it...and it sounded as though it was coming from something small, because small creatures made small noises while big creatures made loud, bellowing noises.

It sounds...sad, the boy mused as he listened, a frown on his face. Almost like it's crying, a little...

They kept going, Phobius' thoughts drifting as he imagined some sad, squeaking, lonely critter wandering the forest on its own. And then he spotted a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, immediately drawing his attention to the grass-laden ground. There were sticks and dying leaves scattered about, but nothing seemed to be moving...so Phobius shifted his gaze upwards a bit, and his eyes widened when they finally fell upon something. It was small and fluffy, and sat hunched in the grasses a few yards away from him. And he didn't have a clue as to what it was, but was pretty sure that it wasn't a plant.

The boy brought Araphos to a stop before he began to slide himself off of the saddle, the tips of his toes greeting the soil as he eased himself down. Then he turned and, with a quick "shhh" directed at the horse, started toward the ball of fluff, every step instilled with an instinctual caution that came with approaching animals. Phobius doubted that he was in any danger, but it was still a good idea to be careful; he didn't want to scare it.

Phobius stopped beside it and squatted so that he'd be able to get a better look, his eyes widening with interest. The ball of fluff was actually a bird...a baby bird, he soon realized, covered in downy white-ish feathers that were dotted with flecks of brown along its chest and wings. It'd been stumbling aimlessly along, but once it noticed the boy it turned its head and looked up at him, its eyes black and expressionless. Not knowing what else to do, Phobius stared back at it.

A moment passed, and then the bird opened its tiny beak to let out a high-pitched, solemn-sounding cry.

"So you're what was making all that noise," Phobius murmured, frowning as he watched it. "You're kinda loud for a baby, huh...? Where's your mommy and daddy...?"

The creature did nothing but cry, again, and Phobius brought his gaze away from it to look around. He'd only ever seen baby animals with their parents, and for some reason this baby bird was on its own... The boy squinted up at the tree branches that hung above their heads, along with the ones from the surrounding trees, and the sky itself, but there were no signs of a mommy or a daddy bird anywhere. Phobius couldn't even see a nest, but maybe that meant that some other bird had come along and broken it, so the baby bird had lost its home. Or maybe the bird had fallen out of its nest, and had been walking around because it couldn't get back into it...?

There was no real way of knowing, for sure. And in the end, Phobius supposed that it didn't really matter. What did matter was that the baby was on its own, and its mommy was probably out looking for it, right now, worried sick. It'd been crying a lot, though...if it was lucky, the mommy bird would hear it. Birds had great hearing, didn't they? Maybe she was on her way here, right now!

It was a particularly hopeful thought, but Phobius felt confident enough that it was true, and that the baby bird would be alright. Looking back down at it, Phobius offered a warm smile. Maybe if he spoke in Nari, the birdy would feel better... The birds in Wind Reach seemed to respond to it, anyway. Probably something to do with how it sounded. "Don't worry. Your mommy's on her way, and she'll be here, soon. Until that happens, I'm gonna sit here and wait with you, okay?" he assured, easing himself onto the ground so that he could sit with his legs crossed. The baby bird didn't seem like it cared, much, and if it did it wasn't showing it, but the boy didn't mind. Now that he'd found it, he couldn't let himself just get back up and leave it alone...not until he was sure that it was safe with its parents.

Or parent, if it only had one. Really, animal families weren't too different from people families, as far as Phobius was concerned. Some people only had a mommy, while others only had a daddy. Then there were those who had neither...but the baby bird probably wasn't one of them.

The creature continued its cries, and as much as they made Phobius' heart hurt he couldn't think of anything to do about it. After a few chimes, the boy tried to see if the bird would let him touch it, tentatively reaching toward it with a slow and steady hand. It stared at him for a moment, then shuffled away from his approaching fingers and nestled itself near the root of a tree.

Still smiling, Phobius drew his hand back and placed it in his lap with the other. It was alright if the bird didn't like to be petted—he probably wouldn't like it if some unfamiliar person tried to touch his head—and he didn't want to bother it, so he decided that he'd leave it alone for the time being.

Now all that was left to do was to...well, wait.

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

by **Phobius** on February 15th, 2015, 9:39 pm

So he waited. And as the chimes lengthened into bells, Phobius found little ways of entertaining himself, quickening (at least in his mind) the passage of time. He found a stick, and drew some pictures in the dirt with it, starting with careless circles and squares until he decided to make an attempt at some animals. Araphos ended up being his first "test subject"; the boy squinted at his horse, taking in the form of its neck, head, and limbs, then went to scrawling away at the ground once he was certain that he knew where to start. Phobius wasn't an artist in any remote sense of the word, but that didn't stop him from trying, nor did it dissuade him from feeling proud of himself when he'd finished. The drawing's legs were a bit skinny, and its body was kind of...bloated, but he liked it.

Having mastered the horse, Phobius felt confident enough to try another animal. He was at a loss for ideas, at first—the forest was quiet enough to seem empty—but then his eyes flicked over to the baby bird. It was much smaller than a horse, and only walked on its two little feet...that would make it easier to draw, wouldn't it?

Wanting to find out, the boy cleared away some grass so that he'd have more canvas-dirt to work with. The end result was a puffy ball with a beak, two little nubs for wings, and sticks for legs. Giggling, Phobius motioned for the actual puff-ball to come and take a look, offering the sketchy self-portrait as a gift. The baby bird took a few hesitant steps toward him, then backed up. I guess it doesn't really like art, Phobius mused as he looked down at the creature, a thoughtful look on his face.

Gradually the sun began its retreat behind the horizon line, and the faded, cloud-dotted blue of the skies above ebbed into shades of orange. Evening was upon them, though it'd been some time before that point when Phobius had run out of things to draw, having surrounded his puffy bird and exceptionally-round Araphos with trees, mountains, and houses. There was nothing else around for him to mimic in the dirt, and nothing else that he could pull from his mind, so he settled on sitting and doing nothing as he waited. Things didn't seem to have changed from earlier, though; the forest was still silent, save for the occasional scurrying of some distant creature, his own fidgeting, and Araphos' breathing.

The baby bird seemed to grow restless, quietly wailing as it kept itself in the nook of one of the tree's roots, as if it was calling to its family. But no one responded. Phobius tried his best to soothe it, murmuring nonsense words in his tongue of clicks and whistles, and while it seemed to calm the creature a little, it didn't stop the wails.

Where are they? the boy thought as he stared up at the sky, frowning. Don't they miss their baby...?

After another bell, he brought himself up to his feet. "We gotta do something, Ar-Ar," Phobius muttered, looking over at his horse friend before he turned back to the bird. It had gone oddly quiet, and was staring up at him, now, seeming to wonder what he planned on doing next. In all honesty, the boy wasn't sure...but he had a strong feeling that if the bird's parents hadn't shown up yet, they probably wouldn't, for whatever reason, be coming. Which meant that their baby was alone, now, with no one to take care of it. And there was no way in the world that it'd be able to live like that.

Phobius wasn't about to abandon it, either.

Bringing a reassuring smile to his face, the boy knelt down by the bird with his hands on his knees. "I don't know where your mommy and daddy went," he said. "But it's not safe to be out here, anymore. So you're gonna come with me, okay? And then...and then I'll find somebody who knows more about birds, so they can tell me what we should do with you. Okay...?"

Unsurprisingly, it didn't respond, but Phobius wanted to be sure that it knew that he wasn't going to hurt it. So he reached toward it, moving his hand as slowly as he could in another attempt to touch it. He expected it to shy away, again, but the creature shocked him by staying put, all the while keeping a wary eye on his hand. Overjoyed, Phobius gave it a few gentle pats before scratching the back of its neck a little, which it seemed to like. The bird's teeny feathers were unbelievably soft.

An impatient chuff from Araphos reminded him that he'd wanted to get going. Easing back up, Phobius went around and gathered up some clumps of grass and twigs, stuffing them all into one of his horse's saddlebags until he was convinced that it made a decent, makeshift nest. Then he bent down and carefully scooped the baby bird up into his arms, making sure not to drop it as it wriggled and squeaked in what he assumed was annoyance. The saddlebag was big enough to hold it, and once it was inside Phobius spent a good amount of time inwardly arguing with himself. Should he close the bag or keep it open...? Leaving it open would put the baby bird in danger if it decided to climb its way out of the bag once they were moving...but if he closed it, it might get scared, and would it have enough air to breathe? Not that he had to fasten the buckles on the bag...

The decision was a tough one to make, but the boy went with his instincts and, despite the baby bird's protesting chirps, let the bag stay loosely closed. Once that was taken care of, he climbed onto Araphos' back and began the slow trot back to Alvadas, keeping their pace an even one.

They were back in the city by the time the stars had begun to appear, the last of the sun's light and warmth fading away. Phobius had thought hard during the trip, sifting through the memories of all of the people he'd come to know in hopes of recalling someone who was skilled with birds. And then he'd remembered the kind merchant man he'd met, that day when Pryzavard had bought a sword and showed it to him. The man had had a falcon—Celia was her name, wasn't it?—so he was bound to know stuff about them, which made him the perfect person to consult for help.

It took a while for Phobius to be able to track his stand down, but he was glad that he'd done it when he did; the man seemed to be packing up his furs and leathers, stopping once he spotted the boy riding toward him. Celia was sitting on her perch, but was a little busy preening herself.

"Well, well, well! If it isn't a familiar face," he exclaimed, grinning and putting down a box he'd been carrying. "It's been a while, lad. How've ye' been?"

"Good," Phobius replied, sliding off of his horse and rushing over to his saddlebag. He was quiet as he lifted the baby bird out, and held it close to his chest as he went over to the stand, easing it down onto the flat, wooden counter. It'd been squirming around on the way there, but more or less stopped once he'd put it down, gazing curiously over at the other bird. Celia removed her head from under her wing to look at it, too, but didn't seem to find anything of interest, and went back to nibbling at her feathers.

"I found it. In the forest," the Inartan boy explained. "No other birds around, though...the mommy and daddy were gone. So I waited, 'cause I hoped they would come back, but...they didn't. And I didn't wanna leave it alone."

The man said nothing for a moment, fingers scratching his sparsely-bearded chin as he leaned forward and looked the chick over. It backed away from him after a few ticks, however, shuffling nearer to Phobius as it kept its eyes focused on the new strange being, and he laughed.

"Haha! Looks like she's already taken a liking to ye'."

"She?" Phobius echoed, tilting his head a little.

"Aye, she's a she. I'm sure of it. And by the look of those feathers—the tiny brown ones, y'see?—she can't be much older than a few weeks. Three or four, maybe."

Only a few weeks...? She really was a baby. Blinking at the creature, the boy lifted a hand and started to pet it some more. "So little...why would a mommy and daddy leave her, like that?"

"It's strange, it is. Most falcons dun' stay with their babies for more than a month, but the wee thing can't even fly, yet...and her parents wouldn't just leave her by herself. Somethin' must 'ave happened to them..." the man wondered aloud, frowning. "Still, ye' did the right thing by bringing her with you. She wouldn't 'ave survived more than a few hours out there, on her lonesome; babies are easy prey."

A scary truth, as well as was the main reason that Phobius had refused to leave the chick behind. "So...can you keep her?" he asked, glancing up at the merchant as he continued to pet the baby bird.

He looked surprised. "Me? I'm afraid I can't, lad; Celia here keeps me hands full, and she's not too friendly with other birds. I was thinking that you would keep the wee lass."

"Me...? Really?"

"Sure! She already likes ye', and ye' told me you've 'ad pet birds, before. She's a falcon as sure as I'm a hunter, even if I can't tell what kind...and she'll be a great friend to have around. A smart wee thing, too."

Phobius stared at the man, for a moment, a little bewildered. He'd admit that he really liked the bird—she was cute, and friendly enough to let him touch her, now—but keeping her as a pet, as a friend, had never really occurred to him. Maybe that was because he hadn't thought that it would be the right thing to do. If she was a baby, she probably needed special care...and he wasn't sure if he was the person to do it. "But..." the boy began, doubtful.

The man didn't let him finish, cutting him off with one raised hand. "There's no need to worry, lad. Raisin' a chick isn't as hard as ye' might think it is. All they really need is water and meat...tiny pieces of the stuff, since they don't chew, and fresh if you can manage. That, and a place to sleep; I'd say you're best off keepin' her in a box or a...or a crate, with some leaves and sticks inside. When she's older n' can fly, you can put her in a cage. It all sounds simple enough, doesn't it?"

It didn't, but Phobius nodded anyway, mentally storing the man's words so that he'd be sure to remember them. "I...okay, I guess. I mean, I really like her...do you really think I can do it?" he asked, uncertain but wanting to hear the man's honest opinion.

"That I do," the man replied, smiling. And Phobius smiled back at him, happy that he was being believed in. If the man said he could, then maybe, just maybe, it was true. He could take care of her, and raise her up to be the best falcon that she could be. He would feed her and make sure that she got plenty of fresh air, and introduce her to all of his friends, and when she was old enough he'd help her fly and...and...oh, he was getting excited just thinking about all of it.

"Okay. I will. I promise," Phobius said, scooping the bird back into his arms and trotting over to the horse so that he could put her back into the bag. There was no telling how long it would take for them to get back to the inn, so he wanted her to be comfortable, and for now she could sleep on his bed with him. He'd go out looking for boxes and crates tomorrow.

Pausing as he started to lift himself onto the saddle, the boy turned to look back at the man. "Hey, mister...I never asked your name."

"Wren, lad. It's Wren. And what might be yours?"

"Phobius," he replied, then gave his horse friend a pat on the head. "And this is Araphos. I'll think of a name for the birdy, too. A good one."

"I'm sure ye' will," the man said, chuckling and giving the boy a wave as he started to trot away, with his new friend at his literal side. "Goodbye, now!"

"Buh-bye, Mister Wren! Thanks for everything!"

"This is speech in Nari."

This is thought.

by **Fable** on February 16th, 2015, 7:11 am

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Congratulations, Phobius is now the proud owner of a baby falcon!

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Completed In Need of a Good Home