Cypher's the amicable sort. Eternally optimistic, but a realist. These lands are barren, ugly, fruitless— she's got the locusts to thank for that, and them for the fleeing prey, too. But she sees the beauty underneath. She can see this land for what it was, and what it might be again someday. This lake, it'd be quite the sight if the grasses and occasional tree still had leaves. As it is, the waters are glittering and there's no shortage of birds. They're still feasting on the carcasses of bugs (and she makes sure to eat any that are still buzzing about, out of spite), so the lack of foliage and deer don't seem to be bothering them. Fish and fowl.
It's been a few days since she's eaten, but she's not hungry enough to go chasing bird. That, and there was this unfortunate incident in her youth that Cypher's not like to talk about. Feeling peckish but not yet starving, she's got her eye out for other small game. As luck would have it, a weasel darts out in front of her; she lunges on instinct, just missing its tail. Before she can even lift her head, the rodent spins and lands a bite on the tip of her nose. Vicious little critter. Cypher pulls her head back away from the pain, and when she looks back at the earth, the fucker's already gone.
Now she's irritated.
She saunters to the western edge of the lake, snapping at the birds but making no effort to actually catch them.
It's been a few days since she's eaten, but she's not hungry enough to go chasing bird. That, and there was this unfortunate incident in her youth that Cypher's not like to talk about. Feeling peckish but not yet starving, she's got her eye out for other small game. As luck would have it, a weasel darts out in front of her; she lunges on instinct, just missing its tail. Before she can even lift her head, the rodent spins and lands a bite on the tip of her nose. Vicious little critter. Cypher pulls her head back away from the pain, and when she looks back at the earth, the fucker's already gone.
Now she's irritated.
She saunters to the western edge of the lake, snapping at the birds but making no effort to actually catch them.
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