The Sunspire Where You Belong

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Tryphon had always considered himself to be a lean fellow, but that was never the case. He had been born with the soft southern curves of his mother; although he did not remember her, his body had conformed to the less rugged standard from which she was bred. He had been, to put it bluntly, a fat little boy. Perhaps it was his weakness and fragility which had always given him the opposite impression? Now that he was an adult Tryphon knew he wasn't exactly small, but he certainly had a dysmorphic view of himself.

Thus when he was pressured to grab ahold of a root system in order to escape his predicament, he perhaps did not think things through as well as he should have. He backed up as far as he could (kicking aside some bones that blocked a good portion of his running room), and then bolted for the side of the incline. Right as he was making a mad leap at the roots he heard the stranger shout again — You need to hurry! — and being startled by this, his teeth clipped the air and he fell back without success. Tryphon's brow furrowed and he looked wildly around the area above as best he could manage - there was a shadow lurking just out of his vision, but he didn't know what it was.

Is someone up there with you? He called out — suddenly feelilng like he had been deceived. The air was thick with the woman's scent now, and the pheromones of her panic, and behind all of that he thought he smelled a faint but memorable smell that sent a wave of fear down his spine. What is it?! Tryphon called again, before the stranger could answer his first question —  and as he waited for her response, he prepared to run at the roots again.


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