IP: 66.208.250.154
Posted on May 30, 2014 at 00:14:55 AM by BIRCH
also, I kinda ran with the idea! :P [/ooc]
"Birch, I don't want you to do this."
Birch turned from the mirror, giving her recently forged armor a few final tugs to adjust the fit. It was the best armor she'd ever had, fitting like a movable second skin but still resilient and tough, and the fact she'd crafted it with her own two hands filled her with pride. This place had given her the ability to create such things, had given Torram a future that made him happy and her a place she belonged. Though she knew Torram did not like it (how could she not, when every two minutes since her announcement had been filled with fervent disagreement?), she knew she had to defend their new home in any way she could. They owed the land, the people, that much. After all, Lady Morgana had saved Torram only a few short days ago, and before that Mallos himself had healed a wound that would have left the boy permanently damaged even if he'd survived it. No, Birch could not stand by and watch monsters rip apart this place. Even if she marched to her death, the cause was one she believed in. Still, when she lifted her eyes to Torram and found the boy leaning against her doorframe, she felt a bit guilty. She knew his frustration was in part due to the pain in his arm and his inability to help at the moment, but she was grateful he would be locked up in the house and away from the battle. "I'm sorry, Torram, but I have to," she answered, her husky voice gentle but firm. "But what about us?" Torram snapped, flinging his hand in the direction of Minerva, who was watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic silence, and Rochambeau, who was equally quiet and had refused to come out from beneath the bed since dawn. Birch's familiar was sulking, another pinch of guilt at her heart, but she knew the otter would only be a distraction and she couldn't bear the thought of losing such a bright and happy portion of her soul to monsters. "What are we supposed to do while you go and get yourself killed? Did you even think about what will happen to Ro while you're gone? What if you died, you know you'd kill him too don't you?" Birch kept her movements controlled as she slid her belt, and its various weapons, across her waist and buckled it. She said nothing as she stepped to the side of the bed, hefting the shield Torram had ordered special for her. The shield was a vibrant red color, a lucky color, and depicted a black lioness rearing up. Like the lioness, she had to protect her cub, and the cubs of Shaman. Torram blocked the door as she walked towards it, his chin jutting out in defiance. "Birch! Don't ignore me!" "I love you, Tor. And you, Min, and Ro," Birch said simply. She brushed past him, nudging him out of the way gently but firmly. "I'll see you when I get back." "BIRCH!" Torram roared, but she'd already made it out the front door and shut it firmly behind her. She heard it rip open behind her, heard Torram's defeated sigh, and then... "We love you too." Birch didn't look back, didn't want to encourage him to continue his passionate argument, but she smiled as she made her way down the well-worn path. Her heart was thudding, a mix of anxiety and, if she were to admit it, a bit of vicious glee. How long had it been since she'd truly fought for something? What would she face? Her head high, her strides confident and sure, Birch set out for Kingswood Henge. Birch picked up her pace as she neared the trademark clearing, hearing the sounds of a battle already raging nearby. She slowed as she reached it, pausing to take in the sight before her. A small but talented group of fighters was waging a determined battle against a massive three-headed beast of deep purple. Her stomach clenched. This creature was certainly monstrous, and so decidedly unnatural it made her feel on edge just watching its movements. But there was something else... something was wrong. Birch felt the hair at the nape of her neck stand at alert, fear running down her spine on icy feet. Something snapped behind her, a branch. She whirled to face the oncoming danger, but it was too late. The beast was upon her! |
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