Playtime

And now for something happier!

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Lark held up her creation. "What do you think?"

Pitch eyed it doubtfully. "A feathered leather ball? What does it do?"

Lark just grinned, then looked down at Wynd. The little wintersaber cub was sitting at her feet, watching expectantly. Lark hefted the ball, then threw it, and Wynd leaped after it, pouncing on the toy with a growl before bringing it back. There was a brief tug-of-war before he relinquished the ball to Lark, but he let it go without too much difficulty.

Lark grinned at Pitch triumphantly as Wynd sat back down at her feet, ready for another throw. Pitch grunted in amusement. "Seems to have met his approval. Clever." Lark passed him the ball, and he looked it over before tossing it for the cub. "He sure seems to-"

Pitch broke off whatever he was saying as a big shape suddenly charged in from the side. The two Kal'dorei gaped as Tuah went rushing past them. Wynd squealed and dashed out of the way as the big tiger pounced on the toy. He settled on the ground with the ball between his forepaws, sniffing it over curiously.

Pitch glanced at Lark with one eyebrow raised. "Does he do that often?"

Lark just laughed. "You're supposed to bring that back, silly!" she called to the tiger. Tuah twitched one ear in her direction and chuffed, then stood up and trotted toward them, the ball almost hidden in his jaws.

Wynd, watching the huge cat warily, suddenly realized that Tuah had his toy. With a squeaky growl he jumped at the tiger, smacking into the side of his head. Tuah stopped in his tracks, rolling onto his side with a groan. Wynd immediately began chewing on the closest ear, until he noticed that Tuah had dropped the ball. He gave up the ear to pounce onto the ball, then proceeded to prance around the bigger cat, holding his prize high. Tuah just lay where he fell, watching him.

Pitch looked over at Lark, keeping a straight face with an obvious effort. "They're your cats, you know," he told her. Lark dissolved into helpless giggles. Pitch just watched her, until Wynd came over and dropped the ball on her face. Then his composure cracked, and he fell over on top of her, laughing his head off.

Wynd watched his people curiously, cocking his head to one side. Then he trotted back to Tuah and curled up at the tiger's side, chewing contentedly at his toy.

______________

And side note- my raid group took down 7 bosses tonight! Magmaw, Omnitron, and Maloriak were all one-shots, while Atramedes took 2. Chimaeron gave us some trouble, but we got him in the end. And then we proceeded to Bastion of Twilight and one-shot both Halfus and the Dargon Twins. We had a few good attempts at the Ascendant Council, but they are continuing to defy us. We're gonna extend our raid lockout on them, so next week after we beat down BWD (again, muahaha), we can go straight back to the Council.

And now I have to sleep before I pass out on my keyboard. Happy Hunting!

Pitch: Lost

I really don't know where this came from.Well, okay, maybe I do, but it's a long story. *Deep breath*

I never really intended for Lark and Pitch to be anything other than just friends. Just goes to show how little control I really have over my characters, right? The main thing is actually Pitch. He simply never does anything by halves- he'd rather go all the way. This wasn't a problem when he was chasing after Skyborne, but when Sky kind of took herself out of the picture, there was only Pitch and Lark left.

Really, I should have known it was coming.

Lark loves Pitch, really, but she's already lost so many people she's loved that it's become old stuff for her. If Pitch dies, she'll mourn for him (and hard), but then she will simply pick up what's left and get on with her life. But then I started thinking.... what if the opposite happens?

Lark is Pitch's first love. Oh, he's had a mate before (long story that I have no intention of writing, sorry), but that relationship didn't have much to do with love. With Lark, though, every now and then he will surprise me with how deep his feelings really are. She is his mate, his partner, and his love. He gives her everything he's got.

More simply, he's not going by halves.

So if anything ever happened to Lark, I really wasn't sure what he'd do. Go crazy? Go feral? Or maybe just deal with it and move on, like Lark herself would do. I apparently was in a morbid mood today (let's kill off one of my main characters and see what the other one does, muahaha- kidding), and I did eventually finish the whole story.

Which was fairly awesome, because I've been in such a slump lately. >_<

So what would Pitch do if Lark died? Read on and find out.

***Disclaimer***

I AM NOT KILLING OFF ANY OF MY TOONS.

So don't worry about that. This is strictly a "what-if".

That being said, I will warn you that I had to make myself stop thinking about it a few times, because I was about ready to break down bawling in the middle of the aisle at work. You might want to grab a kleenex.
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It was a beautiful day. The air was rain-washed and clean, the worst of the storm having passed. A few threatening-looking clouds still hung in the sky, but above them the sky was clear and blue. Pitch circled around Lark's gryphon, then did a few flips. He followed them up with an attempt at a backwards flip, but wound up having to catch himself after nearly falling out of the air. Lark laughed at him from her gryphon's saddle, and he laughed with her, unable to be angry or upset on such a perfect day.

The wind picked up, scudding a few of the clouds across the sky. Lark's grin dropped. "Maybe we should head back," she said doubtfully. Pitch did a bird-shrug. "Race you," he offered, then took off, his wings sweeping him along furiously. He barely heard her indignant "Hey!" as she sent her mount after him. Grinning to himself, he looked back over his shoulder.

The lightning came out of nowhere, the accompanying thunder crashing around them. For one brief, horrible instant Lark and her mount were lit up like a Winter Veil tree. Then, as Pitch watched, frozen with shock, they plummeted out of the sky. One of Lark's hands lifted as she fell, as if she were reaching for him. Her expression had no fear or pain, only a terrible surprise. Pitch abruptly found both his voice and his will to move. "No! LARK!!" he screamed, then folded his wings and dove after them.

It took him a couple minutes to find where they landed. Finally he spotted the gold-and-white mound of blowing feathers and fur and came winging over to the fallen gryphon. Lark lay near her mount. Pitch unshifted a few feet short of the ground and fell, scrambling to her side once he hit the ground. She lay motionless, the surprised expression still frozen on her face. "Lark," he whispered in disbelief, gently touching her shoulder. Then, as the full realization of what had happened dawned on him, he grabbed her and shook her, hard. "Lark, no!" There was no response. Feeling like the world had suddenly decided to crush him like a bug, Pitch gently cradled her head in both hands, then bent over her body and began sobbing.

Hours later, dry as the desert and worn as an old rag, he changed to cat and curled himself around her. As night fell and the rain started again, gentler this time, his mind mercifully fled down into darkness.

* * * * * *

She came to him in the darkness, smiling, but with a touch of sadness. He couldn't think of why she should be sad. Before he could say a word, she was kneeling at his side. "I'm so sorry, Pitch," she said softly. "I was so sure you would be the first one taken. I never wanted to leave you alone."

He reached up to touch her face. "Alone?" he asked, slightly confused. Some part of his mind was trying to tell him that this was all wrong, that she wasn't really here, but he refused to listen. "But-"

"Pitch," she interrupted gently. "I want you to promise me something, babe." She waited for his nod before continuing. "Promise me you'll go on. Don't let yourself pine away just because of me."

He blinked at her. "Lark, I-"

She interrupted him again, this time with a finger on his lips. "We're here, and we're alone," she said softly. "Let's enjoy this night together, hey?" She kissed him then, and he let himself forget everything else. There was only her.

* * * * * *

Waking was a cruelty beyond imagining.

Pitch sat and stared at his dead mate, the morning breeze ruffling his muddy fur. His mind and body felt numb. He couldn't make himself think beyond each particular moment. He didn't want to live without her.

Finally he stood and began walking. After a few dozen steps the walk turned into a run. He didn't look back.

* * * * * *

Alanon knelt next to Lark's body, closing her eyes as he offered a brief prayer to Elune. He scanned the ground, finally spotting the tracks of a large cat heading off into the distance. He sighed, suddenly feeling every one of his ten-thousand-something years.

The air shimmered in front of him, and suddenly Komah was standing there. Alanon blinked in surprise. The spirit-cat was several times larger now, his eyes and markings glowing fiercely. The druid suddenly understood what was happening and bowed his head to the loa-creature.

He heard a faint chuckle in his mind. None of that, please. Alanon raised his head to look the cat in the eyes. "So this is it, then," he stated, rather than asked.

Komah nodded. She was good to me, and I'll remember her always, but my mate's debt is paid and my time with her is now over, he said simply.

Alanon quirked an eyebrow. "That's it? No grief, no tears?"

The cat gave him a look of mild reproach. I am not a person. We don't do things the same as you. I will mourn her in my own way. Do not think to judge me, druid.

Alanon bowed his head again in apology. Then he looked up, a new thought crossing his mind. "And Pitch? Do you know where he's gone?"

The loa blinked at him slowly. Finally, He said he was going home. With that, Komah turned away from the druid and faded away.

Alanon sat where he was for a little longer. Then he levered himself to his feet and changed to a bird, heading back towards Stormwind. The rest needed to hear what had happened before he set off after Pitch.

* * * * * *

His sisters and Windstar took the news about how he had expected. Shaurria, of course, was the hardest hit. She dissolved into sniffles, sitting back a little away from the group. Loren was no better. The young druid simply sat in shock, eyes wide but unseeing. Windstar and Jahira sat on either side of him, trying to provide reassurance.

Kel was the first to speak. "Now what do we do?" she asked her brother.

Alanon sighed. "I have to go after him, there's no question of that. But I have to go alone." He looked at the others firmly. "We have no idea what he's feeling like right now, and I want to take no chances."

The others agreed, Kel grudgingly, and he turned to go. He hadn't gone far when he became aware of Shaur dogging his heels. He looked at her sternly and opened his mouth, but she gave him a look of mute appeal, and what he had intended to say died in his throat. He turned and went on, permitting her to follow.

* * * * * *

Ashenvale was much changed from its "glory days," as the humans liked to call it, but it was still home. Alanon kept his hope buried deep as they approached the weathered house. Pitch may have moved on by now, or he could be in no shape for them to be safe around him, but he was Alanon's brother. He had to try to do something.

There was no sign of the druid around the house, and Alanon felt his heart sinking when he finally spotted a dark shape at the edge of the clearing. Pitch was sitting still and silent, his tail curled around his feet, looking out into the trees. Shaur gave a wordless cry and launched herself at him before Alanon could stop her, but all Pitch did was turn to nuzzle her as she threw her arms around him. Alanon approached more slowly.

"Shaur," he said quietly. "I know how you feel, but I need to have a word with him, okay? In private." The little druid nodded as she wiped her face, then turned cat and trotted back to the house. Alanon sat down next to Pitch.

Pitch spoke up softly before Alanon could say a word. "I see her in my dreams. I can still feel her next to me." He turned to look at him briefly before returning his attention to the forest. "How do you deal with it?"

Alanon was glad that he still spoke clearly, and he at least sounded sane. He answered slowly. "You remember the good parts. The bad parts will come as well, but they will stop eventually. And then... the good parts won't hurt as much, and you'll know you're on the way to healing."

Pitch took a deep, shuddering breath. "Do me a favor, brother," he said softly. "Take care of Loren for me. And don't come looking for me, or let anyone else try. If I'm able, I will come find you."

Alanon didn't like the sound of what he was saying. "If you're able? Pitch..."

Pitch turned to look at him again, and Alanon felt his heart fall at the sight. Pitch's eyes were empty of everything but pain, balancing barely on this side of madness. Then Alanon saw something else, and his blood turned cold. Something else looked at him through Pitch's eyes, something feral and wild. He realized that Pitch had released the cat.

"Pitch, no," he whispered. "Don't do this."

Whatever sanity was left in Pitch's eyes was slipping away, even as he watched. "I don't really care, Alanon," he replied. "I don't want to live anymore, not without her. Maybe with time that will change, but for now this is the only way."

"Pitch, please," Alanon said desperately. "You know what they'll do if they-"

Pitch stood up abruptly, cutting off the rest of the sentence. "Goodbye, Alanon," he said. "Gods willing, I will see you again someday." He started trotting, heading into the deep woods.

Alanon watched him go. "Goodbye, little brother," he whispered, although he was no longer sure if it was his brother he was speaking to. "Elune guide your path." He felt Shaurria come up to stand beside him, and they both watched the big black cat as he disappeared into the trees.

Shaurria broke the silence. "Should we go after him?"

Alanon was silent for a long minute. Finally he shook his head. "We can't help him, little one," he told her. "He needs to do this himself." He put one arm around her and started guiding her back to the house. "Come, let's go home."

* * * * * *

The cat was free- really, truly free- for the first time in its existence. It hunted when it was hungry, slept or wandered when it was not. It guarded the territory it had staked out, driving out the rival predators it found. Sometimes, rarely, it remembered the elf it had once been. But the elf had been hurt badly, and had gone into hiding to wait for healing. He rarely bothered the cat, so it was able to do as it wished.

Everything was not perfect, of course. On occasion invaders came to the cat's realm, sometimes stopping to hunt and sometimes simply passing straight through. Not animals, though- people. The cat would watch them, angry at the intrusion. It wanted to attack them, to drive them off or kill them, but something held it back each time, so it only watched until they left.

And sometimes the cat had dreams of another elf, a female with a pretty face and laughing eyes. But the dreams were... painful, so the cat shied away from them.

Someday, maybe, the dreams wouldn't hurt so much, and then things would change. The elf might return, and then they would go back. But such things were beyond the cat's comprehension, so overall, it was fairly happy. It hunted, and slept, and wandered, throughout the Ashenvale forest.

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For anyone wondering, Loren is Pitch and Lark's son. Yes, I know she's supposed to be barren, but there is actually some RP starting soon (I hope) that may change that. So since this would be in the unspecified future anyway, I figured that it would have worked. Hence Loren.

And naturally he would be a druid. His father and half his aunts/uncles are all druids, so why not?

Another Marker Reached

When Rheugan hit level 68, I randomly decided that I wanted an actual set of druid armor for him, for RP. The "easiest" one to get is the level 70 PVPish set from the rep vendors (remember these?), however! Rheugan was only friendly with Honor Hold and Cenarion Expedition, and hadn't even touched the others yet. So.... Pitch ran him through a bunch of dungeons.

Rheugan now has 3 pieces, and is honored with HH, CE, and Keepers of Time. Shattrath and Lower City will be getting their turns once I track down some dungeon quests and have a day off work. Tomorrow is looking pretty likely.

All the instancing had a bonus side effect- by the time Pitch and Rheu were done with Keepers, he was only a few bars away from 70! So I queued him for a random, did his cooking/fishing dailies, and then got into an Utgarde Keep group. The run went smoothly, with a group that actually chatted and joked around during the run, and a couple pulls before Ingvar, Rheu finally dinged.


He'd already been saving his money, plus I sent him some from my other toons, so, almost as soon as he got to Stormwind....



Wheeeee, speedy birdy! Also, I hadn't noticed until now that the worgen flight form has little wolf ears. XD

And now I feel bad for Davoss, because I want to go ahead and finish Rheu up before returning to my pally-tank. He won't be my next toon to 85 (I have a couple others I'm playing with sporadically that are a lot closer), but he'll get there pretty quick at this rate.

I might actually get some writing done soon, if he doesn't decide to shut me out again. I think the key to writing about Rheugan isn't me trying to talk to him, but getting one of my other toons to do it instead. Crazy worgen. :)

Dear Pitch and Lark...

Go find a room. Seriously, get out of my head. Shoo. *waves broom*











On a slightly more serious note, have some new artwork. Possible NSFW warning, because while the important bits are covered up/hidden, it is a couple of nekkid night elves after all.





(Clicky for bigger.)

Tuah

Shaurria was bored and lonely. Lark could sympathize, since everyone the youngster normally spent time with was gone- Pitch and Rheugan had left for Nagrand that morning, and Alanon was back in Hyjal. But after nearly tripping over the little druid for the third time, Lark had had enough. "Alright," she addressed the druid, and Shaur sat down to look at her alertly. "Do you want to go do something, anywhere? I'm not getting much done like this, and I've got some time off due anyway."

Shauria's forehead crinkled in thought, then she unshifted and looked up. "Uldum?" she asked tentatively. "Pitch took me there once and I liked it. But I haven't gotten t' go back since."

Lark nodded. "Uldum it is. Just let me tell Kal and get Wynd."

Kal didn't even look up when Lark popped her head in to say she was leaving, she just waved one hand distractedly. With that taken care of, Lark headed out to fetch her gryphon. In no time they were through the Earthen Ring's portal and flapping their way out into the desert.

Lark let Shaurria lead the way, and the little druid headed down the river toward the Delta. She finally flapped down to a landing just outside the Tol'vir city there, shifting to a cat as she did, and started playing in the water at the river's edge. Lark settled Wynd, then came over to sit a little ways away, outside of splashing range. Shaurria was apparently in a kittenish mood, and amused herself for a good while pouncing through the rushes after frogs and snakes. Lark had just started to doze off when the druid-cat suddenly went still, head up and ears pricked, looking over to the far bank.

Lark noticed and roused herself. "What is it, kitten?" she called, but Shaur only twitched one ear in her direction. Then abruptly she was bounding into the water, in the direction she had been facing.

Lark cursed to herself and hurried after her, whistling for Wynd. The gryphon came running, pausing just long enough for Lark to throw herself in the saddle before hopping into the air, to cross the river in an easy glide. Lark slid off her mount and waited, arms crossed, while Shaur reached the bank and pulled herself out, panting. "All right, little one," she said shortly. "What was that about?"

Shaurria unshifted to look at her incredulously. "Y'mean ya couldn't hear it?" she asked. Lark blinked at her. "Hear what?" She was answered, not by Shaur, but by a low chuffing moan from nearby. Shaur's eyes widened, and in a blink she had shifted again to go after the noise. Lark stopped her with a hand held in front of her nose. "Not so fast," she told the druid firmly. "We'll check it out together."

The two Night elves headed up the bank cautiously, into the brush surrounding the city walls. Lark kept one worried eye on the city itself- if anything came out after them, they were in a world of trouble. Everything seemed quiet, however, except for whatever animal was making those noises.

Lark smelled the blood just as Shaurria came to a stop, ears pricked and nose twitching. She unshifted again to point at a bush. "S'in there," she whispered, and Lark peered in. "I don't.." she started to say, then stopped as she realized that the splash of orange she could make out wasn't a plant- it was the biggest tiger she had ever seen. Lark grabbed for Shaur's arm, ready to beat it out of there, when she saw the cat's near hind leg. She stopped and stared, realizing that the tiger wasn't a danger after all.

It looked rather like the tiger's leg just above the hock had been pushed through a meat grinder. The grass it was lying on was stained with blood, and Lark could see flecks of shattered bone poking out of the meat. The tiger lay quietly, eyes almost shut, every now and again giving another of those rasping moans.

Shaurria pulled Lark out of her shock by tugging on her arm. "We have t' help him," she said softly. Lark swallowed and nodded, then carefully approached the tiger. Its eyes opened, glowing a strange purple color, but it simply watched her, eyes dull with pain. Lark crept up to within touching range, took a deep breath, and placed one hand on the cat's haunch.

The skin under her hand twitched, but otherwise it didn't move. Lark wasn't sure if that was a good sign- that the animal was used to being handled- or a bad one- that the injury was so severe it just didn't care anymore. She peered at the wound as closely as she dared, taking note of the tooth marks in the cat's leg. Shaur hovered anxiously just over her shoulder as she gently probed the leg. Finally she straightened up again.

"It's broken, and he's missing a good-sized chunk of that leg. Looks like a croc got him. He'll heal if he gets care, but he'll be crippled in that leg." Shaur looked at her, round-eyed, then peered at the cat. "S'what'll we do with 'im?" she asked. Lark sighed, mostly at the inevitability of it all. "We'll take him home and find him a healer," she told the younger elf. "And hope he survives the trip. It's a long way back, and he's lost a lot of blood."

She stood and went to get Wynd. The gryphon was used to carrying animal passengers, and the tiger was too far gone anyway to put up much of a struggle. She had only taken a step when Shaur's hand on her arm stopped her. She looked back irritably. "What now, kitten?"

Shaur just gave her a knowing grin. "We don' have t' move 'im hurt," she said. "I c'n heal 'im." Lark blinked, thinking with some chagrin that she had been with Pitch for too long. The thought hadn't even occurred to her.

The tiger gave another painful rasp. Lark nodded to the druid. "Go ahead, babe. See what you can do."

Before too much longer Lark had unrolled the pad behind Wynd's saddle and coaxed the cat up onto it. Wynd was used to ferrying her pets around and stood steady. The tiger was using his injured leg, albeit stiffly, and the remaining damage didn't look too bad. Shaur had done a good job.

The tiger was surprisingly placid. Lark didn't know if he was still sick or injured, if he really was used to being handled, or if he simply trusted the elves that much. She was worried it was the first, and kicked Wynd up into the air as soon as he was settled on the pad. Shaurria flapped along behind her, keeping watch in case the big cat slipped, but he clung to the pad as if he had been doing it all his life, and by the time they crossed the Uldum border Lark had stopped worrying. Mostly.

She was relieved when they finally arrived back in Stormwind. The tiger and Wynd both were worn out, so she wasted little time in directing the gryphon toward the University and getting him to the ground. She left the tiger in Shaur's care while she stabled Wynd, then they both coaxed the tiger into her room. Lark was a bit worried about her own pets, but Komah knew to stay well out of the way, and Quiloe seemed to take her cue from him, although the wolf watched them with wide eyes. The tiger ignored them both, limping over to the sleeping pad and dropping onto it with a sigh.

Shaurria knelt by the cat and began gently petting his head. "Are you gonna keep 'im?" she asked.

Lark sighed. "Probably," she answered. "Nether knows I don't need another pet, but they seem to keep forcing themselves on me anyway."

Shaur grinned at the attempted joke. "Whatcha gonna call 'im?"

Lark considered the big tiger for a moment. "I think he'll be Tuah," she said, and the cat's eyes opened to stare into hers. Behind that strange glow, Lark thought that he looked content.

Art Catch-up!

Working on a story and a new picture at the same time, whee. I did finish a couple others, though, so here ya go. Enjoy!

First up is an old sketch of Pitch and Shaur that I finally went back to and colored.



I've started using the burn tool to do hair. It's fun, it's not messy and it looks decent, so hey, guess it works.



Sleepy Shaurria is sleepy. I ought to go back and put a background on this, but right now I'm meh.

I did another horse, too.



This one is Amadar. This will likely be the last new one for awhile, mostly because I need to think of more characters, heh. If I get another horse-itch, it will probably be another of one of these 4.

And now I need to go write stuff. Or art stuff, haven't decided yet. Til next time Happy Hunting!

Random Silliness at the Pig

[exileic] Shad: ngh.

Zve nods at the group.

Pitchblàck says: Hm?

[exileic] Fells: Mmn?

[exileic] Homrend: Eh?

Zve looks down at his box, then at Fells.

[exileic] Shad: smrn. M. hrm. Pfeh. ...Is everyone gone?

[exileic] Homrend: ...no?

[exileic] Zve: Ah, damn. Minis didn' wake on you, did they?

[exileic] Shad: Sorry, I mean...here. At home.

[exileic] Genise: If you listen to my critics, I was gone three years ago.

[exileic] Fells: Hey, you. Mmnhmn. Babes're down, Botch an' me're at the Pig.

Pitchblàck says: The cat is Jahira, which I think you've all met

[exileic] Kyraine: At the pub, aye.

Fells smiles.

[exileic] Shad: Down is a very relative term, shari.

Pitchblàck says: The talkative one is Kel

Pitchblàck sarcasm.

[exileic] Zve: If'n they're up, I can come back.

[exileic] Shad: And Madame Crownsilver, you are -never- gone.

Kelesaria glares at Pitch.

Jahira snickers.

[exileic] Homrend: Lucky bunch. Save me a pint, aye?

[exileic] Shad: It is all right. I am sentient.

[exileic] Zve: Sure?

[exileic] Kyraine: Shad, before I forget or fall asleep on the floor here, I owe you an ale.

[exileic] Shad: Yes. Besides, it is Felicia, and who does Felicia love best? She loves -me- yes she does.

Zve says: Right, there he goes...

[exileic] Shad: You do? Heading out for tonight, I take it?

Fells says: Ain't fair. He's right, too.

[exileic] Kyraine: Not right at the moment, but fairly soon. And aye, I do.

Fells heaves a sigh.

[exileic] Shad: I shall take you up on that on Tuesday, then.

[exileic] Genise: You're quite kind, Shad. And correct, might I add.

[exileic] Shad: I do make a habit of being correct about lovely and brilliant women.

Fells smirks at the box and shakes her head.

Kyraine grins

Zve chuckles.

[exileic] Kyraine: Tuesday it is.

Zve pats Fells' hand. "Don' think you need to worry on that, figure."

Kyraine says: Thank the gods he's not going to pitch a fit on someone wanting to buy him an ale.

Zve says: Felicia's not near old 'nough, anyright.

Zve grins wickedly at Fells.

[exileic] Genise: Okay, you get a free week at the Feather.

[exileic] Pitchblàck: Is that all it takes?

[exileic] Zve: ...S'at all it feckin' takes?

Fells laughs.

Zve looks at Pitchblàck.

[exileic] Genise: For Shad, yes!

Fells says: Oh tha's amazin'.

Zve glares angrily at Fells.

Wildlark punches Pitch on the shoulder.

Kyraine says: Oh hells, that's...

Fells positively beams at him.

[exileic] Pitchblàck: ... ow

Kyraine looks at Botch with sympathy

Fells says: Sommat wrong.

Kyraine is really trying to hide a grin. And failing.

Zve says: All kinds of feckin' rotten...

Wildlark says: You don't need to be going there anyway

[exileic] Genise: He's been working on that for a while. Proof that persistence pays.

Fells speaks ever so clearly into the speaker.

Pitchblàck says: -Now- who's jealous?

Pitchblàck smugs.

[exileic] Fells: Hey Gen, I still gots m'free pass too, ayeh?

[exileic] Shad: *chuckle* You are very kind, but I would likely get myself into a great deal of trouble.

Zve says: Can'...feckin'...believe it.

Fells winks slyly at Zve.

[exileic] Genise: Members of the Riders do have free passes so long as they conduct themselves in a proper manner.

Fells says: Sommat the matter, Botch?

Wildlark debates hitting him again.

[exileic] Fells: Jest double-checkin'!

Zve face-claws.

Fells pets Zve.

[exileic] Kyraine: We do?

Fells says: Awwww.

Fells soothes Zve. There, there...things will be ok.

Fells comforts Zve.

Fells looks down upon Zve with pity.

Zve says: M'throwin' myself off a tower, miss.

Zve says: Bury me with my hat.

[exileic] Wildlark: Does that include cats?

Kyraine says: Oi Botch, if you do that, can I have your things?

Fells says: Nether onnat, keepin' the hat.

[exileic] Genise: Mmmhm, notification should've been sent to you upon registration with the guild. And only cats who come in their elven form.

Kyraine says: Been looking for a halfway decent hat.

Wildlark looks triumphant.

Zve says: M'takin' it with me.

[exileic] Pitchblàck: But I'm a perfectly handsome cat

Fells says: Yer not gonna be there t'say no.

Kyraine says: Right, then don't jump, if I'm not getting a hat out of it.

[exileic] Shad: So when you said I had a free week, what you meant was I could have a free every-week.

Fells says: Tower, r'member.

Zve says: Have it in a death-grip.

[exileic] Genise: Oh no, I meant a free week. It doesn't hurt me any to tell someone with a lifetime pass that they get a free week.

Zve says: Hah.

[exileic] Wildlark: Give it up Pitch

Zve looks only slightly vindicated.

[exileic] Shad: *chuckle* An excellent gambit.

Fells says: Hafta jest tear it all up gittin' it free then.

Fells tsks.

[exileic] Genise: The Feather -does- have a pet nursery, but I'm sure you'd not have much fun there.

[exileic] Pitchblàck: .....

[exileic] Pitchblàck: That just... doesn't seem right

Wildlark leans down and whispers in Pitch's ear.

Pitchblàck 's eyes widen.

[exileic] Genise: It's an establishment formed to cater to bipeds. It's nothing against druids who prefer their animal forms. It's simply a matter of the rules.

[exileic] Pitchblàck: You know what, nevermind

[exileic] Pitchblàck: I think I just got a better offer

Kelesaria glances between Pitch and Lark, raising an eyebrow.

Zve says: I'm a bi-ped.

Wildlark smirks.

Fells says: 'course y'are, Botch.

Fells pets Zve.

Kyraine nods at Zve.

Fells says: Good boy.

Zve sulks.

Fells says: Oh OH.

Fells says: When y'was talkin' 'bout thinkin' in circles.

Zve says: No.

Fells says: Guess what I didn' say.

Zve says: -No.-

Zve says: Don'

Zve raises a claw in warning.

Fells says: "So are ya -chasin' yer tail-"

Fells says: Git it!

Kyraine grins at Fells

Zve hangs his head.

Zve says: Pitch.

Fells :D

Pitchblàck snerks.

Zve says: -You- can have my damn--

Zve says: Nevermind.

Fells :D

Zve points at Wind Rider Cub.

Zve says: Tyrant?

Zve says: -YOU- can have my damn things.

Kyraine says: Oi, what about me?

Pawa looks up at him brightly, He obviously has no clue what that means.

Zve says: You laughed too.

Fells grins wickedly at Kyraine.

Fells says: C'mon.

Kyraine says: Aye, course I laughed, but it wasn't personal.

Fells says: -Chasin' yer tail.-

Fells says: Tell me that ain't brillian'.

In which I go crazy with the screenshots

I have been having some fun without actually doing anything constructive. Wheee.

Booggah went and tamed his new friend. His name is Ice, and he is Samurai and Gabriel's son. I love him to bits already.


I never got around to showing a screenie of his chimaera, so have one now. Plus a bonus fox!




Still having mixed feelings about the whole pet auto-levelling and no more happiness things, but so far I've decided to take it as a good thing. Pet leveling was my favorite way to "bond" with a pet, plus if they didn't "click" I could usually tell right away (like with Lark's poor dog) and not have to waste time/stable space on it. But meh, I'll deal with it.

Speaking of stables, Lark got this boy a while ago, but he hasn't had a mention yet.


His name is Tuah, after her moonstalker. Yes, she still has the original Tuah. Shush.

He's getting a mention now because he will become an IC pet as soon as I think up a story for him. I have a general idea for it, just need to actually type it out. I am lazy.

Lark has another new addition, though I wouldn't really call him a pet...


Her old mount Wynd is starting to get old and stiff, so she's gotten a replacement. Old Wynd is still good for a few more years, so she has time to raise and train this little guy.

I love the dailies for him so much, you have no idea. This pic has even made it's way to my pc desktop.

*Squees from cuteness*

Pitch has found a new mission, too. With 4.1, Blizz added a couple more achievements for non-combat pets. Pitch is up to 91.

Minions, he has them.

It annoys me that Rheugan's in-game catform is larger than Pitch's. In reality, the opposite is supposed to be true. So, mix some elixirs with a little pygmy oil, and there! I fixed it!


ICly, they are both doing well. Rheugan is getting ready for his Claw test, aka going to Nagrand and killing some Really Large Animals. For realz.

Other than that, Rheugan has been... quiet. Pitch had some awesome RPs with some of the Riders, but Rheu had to stay at home, and I'm still not certain how much all of that is bugging him. He's not mad at Pitch by any means, but still, he's tired of feeling left out all the time and not knowing why.

He's also still wrestling with the aftermath of returning to Gilneas. Seeing his homeland all but abandoned, the effects that the war has had on it, really hit a nerve, and he's not been very willing to let me know what's going on inside his head. I'm poking at him a lot, however, and I think I might be breaking through. If he lets me write anything about it, it'll be showing up here.


And hey, Spirit Bond has reached 10,000 views! I was debating thinking up something special for the occasion, but it kinda snuck up on me unprepared. Still worth a mention, especially since I never thought anyone besides my sister and a couple friends would ever even look at it! I'm not a "big" blogger by any means, and not looking to become one (no thanks!) but it still gives me some pretty nice feelings.

I will be fiddling with some chatlogs in the near future; some of the recent RP has been worth sharing, I think, so I'll clean them up and post them. Til then, Happy Hunting!