- Apr 2, 2025
- 16
- 2
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Hexkit appears like a whisper on the wind—soft pawsteps barely scuffing the ground, wide eyes locked onto Blizzardstorm like he's the only landmark in a world of swirling stars. Their fur's a little tousled from some prior escapade, bits of dried grass clinging to their flank and a single burr tangled stubbornly behind one ear, unnoticed and unbothered. They carry something in their mouth—a bundle of vines and feathers, maybe? It's hard to tell at a glance, but it trails behind them like a streamer, bouncing with each careful step. They pause a tail-length away, setting their bundle down with gentle reverence. Their tail twitches once, twice. A quiet hum escapes them—tuneless, thoughtful—and then they speak.
"Blizzardstorm," they murmur, solemn as a prophecy and just as dramatic, "I need your help. It's important. Very important. Top of the important list." They blink slowly, letting the gravity of that declaration settle in the space between them. Then, abruptly, their entire posture shifts—ears perking, paws fidgeting, energy vibrating just beneath their skin like lightning trapped in down feathers. "I'm making something," they continue, scooping the bundle back up and nosing it closer for inspection. "A wind-catcher. For the trees. Or the sky. Or maybe dreams. I haven't decided yet." They tilt their head, as if listening to a thought only they can hear. "But it needs more feathers. And strong sticks. And your paws. You have good paws. Stable paws. Paws that know how to hold things and not accidentally let go because you got distracted by a moth." They blink again. "Not that that happened."
Their eyes widen suddenly, as if struck by a brilliant realization. "Also, you're tall. And I can't reach the branch I want. But if you lifted me, or stood still enough and let me climb on your back like a rock, I could reach it, and then the wind-catcher would spin just right when the breeze comes in from the right direction." Without waiting for agreement, they begin nudging the bundle toward him, feathers trailing like a comet tail. "Come on. It'll only take a little while. Maybe a whole while. But I'll share the dream with you after it's done. That's fair, right?" They blink up at him, eyes shimmering with expectation, the kind that's impossible to say no to without disappointing a starlit sky.
@Blizzardstorm
"Blizzardstorm," they murmur, solemn as a prophecy and just as dramatic, "I need your help. It's important. Very important. Top of the important list." They blink slowly, letting the gravity of that declaration settle in the space between them. Then, abruptly, their entire posture shifts—ears perking, paws fidgeting, energy vibrating just beneath their skin like lightning trapped in down feathers. "I'm making something," they continue, scooping the bundle back up and nosing it closer for inspection. "A wind-catcher. For the trees. Or the sky. Or maybe dreams. I haven't decided yet." They tilt their head, as if listening to a thought only they can hear. "But it needs more feathers. And strong sticks. And your paws. You have good paws. Stable paws. Paws that know how to hold things and not accidentally let go because you got distracted by a moth." They blink again. "Not that that happened."
Their eyes widen suddenly, as if struck by a brilliant realization. "Also, you're tall. And I can't reach the branch I want. But if you lifted me, or stood still enough and let me climb on your back like a rock, I could reach it, and then the wind-catcher would spin just right when the breeze comes in from the right direction." Without waiting for agreement, they begin nudging the bundle toward him, feathers trailing like a comet tail. "Come on. It'll only take a little while. Maybe a whole while. But I'll share the dream with you after it's done. That's fair, right?" They blink up at him, eyes shimmering with expectation, the kind that's impossible to say no to without disappointing a starlit sky.
@Blizzardstorm