Name: Nijunae
Age: Roughly 20
Personality: A silent and stoic creature, with an adept ability in magic, and healing.
Bio: He's one of a few shamans in his village, but one of few also who venture nearer the lines that separate them from the bipeds. Curious by nature, reserved by force, he wonders what lies beyond the forest huts, healing, and given the chance and safe passage, may venture out. He's never one for rebelliousness though, so he's never attempted.

The moon above was a bright glittering mass, illuminating the sky with waves of gentle gold that streaked across the night with fingers soft as satin. The tendrils of hair she shed to the earth above danced between the leaves like water, and only occasionally illuminated across a plane of pearly skin, or a wash of the deepest of emerald green.

Jewels jingled, leaves parted, and the soft 'shhhh' or his winding movements was the only knife in the silence of the evening. Across a long expanse of pale muscle, a long, glittering staff seeming to be forced from precious stone lay, a comfortable weight. Eyes as green as the scales behind him glittered as a swath of golden moonlight caught them, and brought them towards the sky in a soft caress. He was almost sure he could hear the be careful, Nijunae, as he stopped, the long plane of emerald tail behind him coming to curl comfortably around him. His eyes dropped from the moon to the trees beyond him, and beyond them, feet, yards, a mile away, the forbidden he knew was out there. The bipeds lived past these barriers, these trees, the safety his entire life had known.

The soft curiosity turned to alert tenseness and the staff was wretched from his back and held possessively. Jewels across his horns tingled and he and the rabbit made eye contact for a moment, before it took off rapid fire through the blackness. The staff was returned, and the shaman cast a brief look towards the far away noises of the civilization, before he turned tail and slid back towards the deepest depths of the Forest, of his home; he'd come to far this evening in any case.

Name: Erran Terrick
Age: 19
Personality: Quiet and thoughtful, yet strong as steel and very quick for a human. He upholds honor and duty.
Bio: Parents died in a plague when he was young. He was raised in the city guard.
A quick and very agile athlete. the ladies tease him that he should have been a dancer instead of a fighter[COLOR="Silver"]


Duty bound him, loyalty moved him, once a task set before him, he would obey for his honor would let nothing stop him. Even if it was a silly task set by a visiting noble, with no thought to others but his own gut.
"Fetch me a fresh rabbit, for I feel hungry. Mind it's fresh! A nice game rabbit. Those are best." Clearly the man was moved by his stoma ch. the gleaming gold sash was all that hid the mans portly belly that was popping out from his embroidered dress shirt. He almost stared in at the man incredulously before bowing and leaving to fulfill the order. Of course the kitchen had nothing of the sort. The cook, cursed and glared at him, mumbling about foolish noblemen. Worried that pots would soon fly, he hurried off toward the forest, a bow in hand.

At least the moon was bright, giving light to his path. He passed under the leafy bower, in search of his designed prey. He would surely need much luck tonight in filling this order. As time passed, and he tracked deeper into the forest, he deemed luck was not with him. He spotted no chance of a rabbit. the only tracks he had found were followed by what he could only assume was some large snake, or other prey. Still he followed hoping that somehow he could reach it before the other carnivore.

Unable to convince himself of returning home at such an early hour, the shaman coiled himself nearer the western edge of his clan's lands, resting his back against a tree trunk. Though most of him was tucked in neat rings as a seat, the end of his tail protruded and wound it's way to the rivers edge he'd found, dipping past it's surface and swaying with the gentle current. Occasionally, a tiny night fish would attempt to suckle it, and he'd smile and twitch, and it would dart away like a flash of silver.

Long tendrils of silver were pulled over his shoulder and pulled in what could only be called a 'lap', splaying over his gilded belt and scales while he began to braid it. Above him a bird, apparently deciding he was it's newest target, began to rant and rave in it's own little tittering that he only rolled his eyes in response to. They talked to much for his liking; he was glad he couldn't understand what it was singing.

((O!! Sorry I forgot to subscribe to this thread...the whole time I didn't think I got replied to... my bad!))

"blast it!" The rabbit had gotten away from him, and he couldn't find the trail anywhere. In fact he was having trouble finding his way out. he plodded along looking for any sign. Eventually relief gave him hope as he heard the sound of a nearby stream. He fought his way through the underbrush to get to the waters edge. bending down he took a quick drink. Sighing, he whipped his wet hands on his pants. It had been many hours trekking through the dark forest. no doubt the fat Lord had forgotten his previous order and had gotten something else from the kitchens. Sighing again he straitened up. He paused, catching site of something shiny on the rivers edge. curiously. He took off his shoes, rolled up his pants and waded into the water quietly. He touched the tip of the unknown item gently, it seemed to go up further along the bank like a rope, some of the bushes obscured where it ended.