Northstar Vale constellation

someone he hasn't met yet maybe?

In the early morning, before the bulk of the group was awake and roaming, he was slinking off to be alone again. This time though, Tryphon wasn't entirely lacking in purpose. He had spied a copse of trees before, and while it was quite a ways from the rest of the group, he felt enough confidence in himself and his ability to traverse the terrain on his own, that he didn't bother informing anyone of where he was going, or why. As the boy crept among the jutting birch trees he investigated their peeling bark and then the moist soil, crunching through the ice leftover by a frosty night. Everything shined. Everything seemed to be covered in tiny stars. But he didn't care much for the trees after all, and moved on through the wood — until he came upon a strange tree with bowed branches. It looked as if it grew up to hold something, because each branch seemed to spiral and curve from the other. The bark of this particular tree was more golden, almost like a rusted orange, and he had only glimpsed it in his wanderings — but now he had found it. And near the top, at the junction of branches within the arbutus, there was a messily patched-together nest where the hawk from days ago still slept.

indra was miserable without laurel, and it showed by the long pout that forged itself permanently on her red visage. as grouchy as she was, she could not deny the childlike wonder that fluttered in her heart at the idea of a new place needing exploring -- her sister would want her to know everything and that thought settled her heart enough to allow her to roam.

as a naturally shy child, it was not in her nature to make new friends. all the same, she was awfully lonely without laurel -- when she saw a shade of a figure pass by she sat upright with a start and padded after him.

she kept her distance, though made no intention to hide. curiously she followed the golden-faced male until he stopped at the foot of a strangely copper tree. indra's gaze broke from him for a moment to study the tree, which the inner laurel in her found unremarkable.

He roamed at the base of the arbutus for a few minutes. His nose started down along the base, sniffing at the soil, but he inevitably drew his gaze up and down the trunk, searching, studying. When finally he crept around to a segment he was contented with, Tryphon raised up on his hind legs and tried to climb his way up. It was impossible, obviously. But like a coonhound, his attention sought the sleeping hawk as if it were a tree'd fox; he watched it, his claws scrambling against the trunk, trying to figure out how to reach the bird without disturbing it. He was so focused that he remained unaware of present company, up until he slipped — slamming his chest against the trunk — and winded himself, collapsing in to a pile of nearby leaves with a thrwump. Smooth man, smooth.

indra still kept her distance, though the male's preoccupation with whatever was so fascinating in the tree made her emboldened. he hardly noticed as she approached, and she got as close as several meters from him as he leapt agilely on his hind legs, placing his slender limbs against the rough-cut bough. indra followed his gaze skyward with a squinting expression, seeing nothing.

she was exasperated she did not possess the keen eye he did, and also annoyed that he hadn't noticed her yet -- with a loud huff she cleared her throat and loudly asked: "what's your obsession with the tree?"

He huffed and wheezed, sputtering as if he'd just surfaced from a quick swim in the sea. Bits of leaf litter clung to his lips and had netted themselves throughout the scruff of his throat; but he was alright after a few seconds. After shaking off the majority of the shock with a quick tussle of his shoulders, Tryphon resumed his attempts to reach the hawk — but he heard a voice, and teetered again. This time he managed to keep his footing, but craned his neck, then reversed so that he could land back on the ground with all four feet, searching for the owner of the youthful tones.

When he saw Indra, he tried his best to smile (which just looked weird, or he was being extra self-concious which was 500% possible) and answered her with his Eeyore-esque voice: Shh.. There's something in the tree I want. And hopefully the presence of both wolves below wouldn't rouse the hawk, because he wasn't prepared for the onslaught of self preservation from the creature. Tryphon hoped to get a feather or two, if he was lucky.

indra tried to impassively watch his attempt to scale the tree; when he was nearly spent and panting he turned around to her, his neck wreathed with the forest's litter. she did not see how her speaking was any more disturbing than the clatter of his climbing attempts, but kept that snark to herself. it was something laurel would say, and the realization prompted a spear of homesickness (or really, just laurelsickness) through her.

"you won't get it." she sourly informed him, having just now spotted the hawk that rested in the boughs above them. she didn't care for hawks, having nearly been killed by one before -- so she set a stony eye on the avian and shook herself -- much in the manner a ruffled or disgruntled crow would do.

I have a horrible fantastic idea.

You won't get it, the child commented in a bratty tone, and Tryphon shifted his eyes again to watch her; there wasn't an ounce of skepticism within his expression, nor was there any annoyance for her terse denial of his skills. He licked his lips thoughtfully, running his big pink tongue across his wet nose to refresh himself, and gave a little shrug — she was probably right — except when he turned to look up at the bird again, he sort of.. Did a double-take back at the girl.

She was small. Young, sure, but actually pretty petite, and her colors reminded him of the bird he was now trying to reach from the lower boughs. If this wouldn't work... Then maybe a different tactic would. Tryphon wasted no time. He slipped back from the bifurcating branches and planted himself back on to the earth with a thmmp!, sighed heavily (loudly, for Indra's benefit), and seemed to give up.

Yeh, he murmured, Prob'ly right...

As he passed near to where Indra was standing, he made sure to step obnoxiously, which was different from what Tryphon was used to; he hated drawing attention, but now he snapped twigs and crunched the frozen winter leaves underfoot without much care, and slunk in to the dark — leaving Indra behind beneath the hawk's roost, seemingly for good. Even if the girl followed him (which he doubted she would), the hawk would have surely been paying attention to the commotion — and it surely would've noticed his departure, plus the delicious looking (and very much alone) girl beneath the tree.

I'M GAME!! AND permission for PP!!

she watched him, a sullen expression convalescing across her chestnut features. she never once suspected anything, and when he licked his lips and gave a shrug as if in defeat, she was content to accept it.

she craned her neck back again to view the upper rung of the boughs, but from her vantage all she could see were the crooked hands and belly of the hawk.

as he walked away indra thought he was about to leave her, but he turned then and collapsed to the ground as if accepting his failure. her ears flicked as he spoke: of course she was right -- duh!

but then he got up once more, and indra watched him puzzled. once more she thought he was quitting her company, and she didn't notice he was purposely making a loud exit. her brow furrowed, but she remained where she was with her tail suspended above her hocks in confusion.

Gonna roll a dice for degree of aggression from bird. 1d10, result is a percent: 4

Tryphon waited just out of Indra's line of sight, crouching down amongst the brambles, ferns, and erratically growing trees upon the slope. Above, the hawk seemed to take notice of the stomping and the commotion. It's head pivoted, and it even emerged from the nest and hopped with a flap of its wings towards another branch. Its talons set around the branch like a vice, and it peered down in the direction that Tryphon had wandered. Then it seemed to survey all the trees with its big golden eyes, until it spotted Indra, at which point the bird's attention was fixed. But it did not do much else besides watch, because it was a patient creature, and hadn't quite woken up yet from its nap. The hawk opened its mouth as if to yawn, and out came a sharp cry which pierced the air.

the red child was just about to turn around and shrug the encounter off when she heard the shrill cry of the bird above her. with tryphon forgotten, indra craned her neck upward towards the bare boughs of the tree. she felt a cold run through her as her gaze met the sharp yellow of the bird's. for a moment, she thought she detected a wry intelligence swirling in that bright tourmalline gaze.

she swallowed, unwilling to break eyecontact with the bird -- and equally unwilling to take her attention off of it.

Bird Rage: 6 (60%)

When the bird locked gazes with the ginger child, it seemed to smile down upon it. Then, with its wings spread, it dove from its perch like a seasoned olympian atop a diving board — its body was a fluid shot of bronze in the air, a bullet, designed for this specific action. It turned in the air to bring its talons up, eager to sink them in to those beautiful wolf eyes, and shrieked again.

Except this shriek was cut off. Tryphon had been waiting for this. If he couldn't climb the tree and reach the bird, he'd find a way to bring the bird down - and he had. He was not so fast that Indra would avoid damage entirely, but he had been ready to spring, and charged from the shadows after the creature as it plummeted. If someone were to watch in slow motion it would be like watching a trainwreck, or maybe a three-car pileup. You can see what's about to happen, you know the eventual result, but you just can't turn away.

He felt his jaws clash with something hard.

The bird twisted and tried to defend with its curved beak.

There was a crunch and he shook his head to rend conciousness away - and the bird was limp. The boy was breathing hard through his nose, steam rising through the cold air, and he didn't realize the damage the bird had done to his own face just yet — but he dripped blood, tarnishing both the intended gift and the ground with red.

she had not expected the bird to suddenly lunge for her. with a gasp fluttering her lips she ducked in fear, and felt a whoosh of feather and fur fly over her.

when she looked up larus had the bird in his jaws, and wrestled it with a wicked swing of his head until it was subdued. indra was in disbelief -- she would have never have known to take such a bold opportunity, and stored that bit of experience in the back of her mind. she had learned something valuable then -- the importance of using bait to lure prey out. it would be some time before she mastered such a tactic, but she had at least learned something.

she couldn't stay and watch the bird get eaten -- it was too much for her. it had been alive only moments prior, and she quickly trotted away from larus. she was eager to reunite with laurel, and share what had happened.