Word Count :: 343 Haha you wrote more than meee. x3
With the large black bird doing his best to navigate through the tangle of twigs and leaves, Vesper padded underneath him. She’d managed to find a branch that was perfect size for a walking stick, and she used that to keep her balance. She was tired and vulnerable, but with Stark looking out from above, she felt safer than she would have otherwise. She hated using her optime form in the neutral territories, but her body was rebelling against her.
Her stick pushed into soft dirt and rotten leaves and glanced off rocks and was used to knock aside the debris of a bush torn from its roots by wind, which had an easier time passing through the Eclipse in bare-bones winter. Winter was relinquishing its grip here, however, and she realized how little time she’d actually spent in the region.
She was still young—still just a “boy” as the raven would say. She glanced at the bird with a wry smile, although it was a weak rendition of one, none of her usual confidence behind it. Blind had been younger, more innocent and untouched. Wolves should never die young.
“Stark seeing clearing,” the raven croaked once, after sweeping around in a circle to check out the area.
Her ears tipped back. “And that’s your definition of interesting?”
His beady eyes flashed, and he angled his wings to swoop off in the direction of the clearing. Vesper followed with a frown, sweeping her stick in front of her as if she was blind—which was nearly true in this thick forest. It would be dark here soon.
Moving less quietly than she was used to, she pushed through the vegetation to find Stark perched in a high tree—one that was currently being attacked by a dagger-wielding luperci. Immediately, the she-yote recoiled, her pupils dilated and her arm drawn up for protection. She turned her head to see if there were others, more blades, more attackers, her body tensed to flee though she knew she was not nearly fast enough like this.
Image courtesy of venomxbaby@deviantart; Table by the Mentors!
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