January 15, 2014, 11:27 PM
OOC: Location in Neverwinter and time of day are up to you! Chandra can't tell the difference anyway!
<style type="text/css">q {font:13px Georgia; color:#618da1;}</style>IC: Snow packed underfoot as the greyscale Ostrega made her way cautiously deeper into what, evidenced by its name, must have been a forest. The heady smell of pinene and resin were sufficient to trigger familiarity in Chandra's mind, but the summoned image of her youth—the day her sight had been cruelly robbed by Fate, burned with vivid clarity forevermore into her memory—had not included trees of this sort. Given the task of describing a leafy tree, Chandra could manage it, albeit sloppily and in much different words than another wolf would use, but pines were wholly unfamiliar. Their scent alone was known to her.
Her course through the forest was chosen with extreme caution. Each paw was guided forward with care, each placed with the initiation of a tender tap of toes, that she not step into a hole and severely injure herself. Even that amount of care had failed her on occasion, even though it came naturally after all these years. Chandra had learned to use her senses in ways other wolves did not have to: her whiskers, protruding from beneath her nose and sprouting from her brow, did much to warn her before collisions occurred. The current of breath bouncing back off a surface aided in much the same way. She had learned to sense local air currents with the sensitive, fine fur on her muzzle and her face, and her ears served her where eyes did not in locating others, more oft than not.
Yet Chandra could not sense everything. The loss of site was devastating, and no mastery of her senses, no unique adaptation to using them in ways other wolves were capable of utilizing but often did not, could ever replace her eyes. No amount of practice could ever serve an equal purpose. Peripherals were impossible for her, as she was reminded yet again when her shoulder connected heavily with an object to her left.
As she felt her way past it, she also felt her paw snag beneath something protruding from the ground. In the split second instant where she thought she might be able to do something about it, Chandra's other forepaw flailed out in front of her, but to no avail; the blind Ostrega stumbled forward and lost her footing, landing in packed snow, fuming in a mixture of irritation (she didn't have this problem back home, where she had created a mental map of safe routes) and humbleness (she hated her blindness, but was thankful not to take for granted the safety of familiarity). The one thing she did not feel was humiliation: if anybody had seen her fall, Chandra was incapable of noticing them if they made no sound, and even if they did jest about it, there was nothing for her to be humiliated about.
She lived on, determined as ever, in conditions they couldn't even dream of.
<style type="text/css">q {font:13px Georgia; color:#618da1;}</style>IC: Snow packed underfoot as the greyscale Ostrega made her way cautiously deeper into what, evidenced by its name, must have been a forest. The heady smell of pinene and resin were sufficient to trigger familiarity in Chandra's mind, but the summoned image of her youth—the day her sight had been cruelly robbed by Fate, burned with vivid clarity forevermore into her memory—had not included trees of this sort. Given the task of describing a leafy tree, Chandra could manage it, albeit sloppily and in much different words than another wolf would use, but pines were wholly unfamiliar. Their scent alone was known to her.
Her course through the forest was chosen with extreme caution. Each paw was guided forward with care, each placed with the initiation of a tender tap of toes, that she not step into a hole and severely injure herself. Even that amount of care had failed her on occasion, even though it came naturally after all these years. Chandra had learned to use her senses in ways other wolves did not have to: her whiskers, protruding from beneath her nose and sprouting from her brow, did much to warn her before collisions occurred. The current of breath bouncing back off a surface aided in much the same way. She had learned to sense local air currents with the sensitive, fine fur on her muzzle and her face, and her ears served her where eyes did not in locating others, more oft than not.
Yet Chandra could not sense everything. The loss of site was devastating, and no mastery of her senses, no unique adaptation to using them in ways other wolves were capable of utilizing but often did not, could ever replace her eyes. No amount of practice could ever serve an equal purpose. Peripherals were impossible for her, as she was reminded yet again when her shoulder connected heavily with an object to her left.
Ow,she hissed before she could stop herself, turning her head in the direction of the collision too quickly. The side of her snout bumped hard against the rough thing (tree, she decided ambiguously, though in reality it could have been anything rough and she wouldn't have known). Working her nose as though she could chase away the smarting sensation, the Ostrega took two cautious steps backward, rotated herself to an angle she deemed sufficiently clear of the "tree", and proceeded past it, brushing the side of her body amiably against its surface.
As she felt her way past it, she also felt her paw snag beneath something protruding from the ground. In the split second instant where she thought she might be able to do something about it, Chandra's other forepaw flailed out in front of her, but to no avail; the blind Ostrega stumbled forward and lost her footing, landing in packed snow, fuming in a mixture of irritation (she didn't have this problem back home, where she had created a mental map of safe routes) and humbleness (she hated her blindness, but was thankful not to take for granted the safety of familiarity). The one thing she did not feel was humiliation: if anybody had seen her fall, Chandra was incapable of noticing them if they made no sound, and even if they did jest about it, there was nothing for her to be humiliated about.
She lived on, determined as ever, in conditions they couldn't even dream of.