RP:The Insults of Squirrels
Sage Forest
Quinmyutiotu had a bone to pick with the mischievous squirrel she currently chased after. Whine napping, the furry critter had wandered by and yanked one of the feathers tangled in her hair. The squirrel practically taunted her with the blue quetzal feather, positioning itself just out of arm's length for the dryad. Until she lunged after the fuzzy critter, anyway. It bolted for the trees with her following suit, the tiny animal moving at a quick pace in order to keep the woman swinging from one branch to another a good distance away. Changing tactic mid jump, the dryad reached her arms up to a branch above, and swung up and into the cover of a cluster leaves that hadn't fallen yet. From there, a pair of eyes watched the squirrel's speedy movements come to a halt, while he tried to determine where Quin had gotten to. That's when she pounced. Now out of her temporary hiding place and moving closer to the squirrel as she fell, a hand reached out to snatch the feather from its grasp. Unfortunately, the dryad didn't take into account how quickly the squirrel could react, and missed the feather entirely. She had enough time to land safely on the branch, and frowned at the squirrel's victorious chittering as it scampered off. Maybe next time she'd get it.
Satoshi is not a tree, no matter how much a swiftly scampering, semi-distracted squirrel may wish to believe, and now that her nap lounging in a fork of branches has been interrupted by scrabbling claws, the squirrel can be dutifully informed. By way of a yelp of surprise from the kit, a musical squawk of alarm from the lyrebird on her shoulder, and a responding chitter of disbelief from the interloping rodent. The trio each attempt to move away from the other two, only further entangling themselves amidst limbs, tails, wings, and curses--of the Common Tongue and animal sorts alike--all until Satoshi turns sideways. There's a brief moment of silence as all three blink in realization before the kit plunges out of her perch, unintentionally taking bird and squirrel with her as she crashes through the branches. At some point along her painful descent, the kit manages to twist herself around and put vampiric reflexes to use in slowing the fall so that she lands with at least a -small- amount of grace upon the forest floor in a heavy crouch, the pair of animals locked between her arms and chest almost protectively--if Satoshi were capable of such a thing. The minstrel's in the middle of breathing a sigh of relief at the mishap's end when she's promptly buried beneath the branches, twigs, and other tree bits she's broken along the way down.
Quinmyutiotu 's eyes tried to pick the squirrel out of the trees, but found it difficult until she heard the kit yelp. She turned to face the trio's general direction, and had to bite back a silent, amused laugh. Once they've reached the ground she follows, swinging from one branch to the next until her feet meet the forest floor. While curious about the bird and Satoshi, her mind was still on retrieving that feather, so she shoved her hand into the forest debris the kit, lyrebird and squirrel were buried in. She blindly felt around, face twisted in exaggerated concentration while attempting to locate it and the feather. When her hand brushed against something she believed to be the squirrel's tail, Quin grinned, and began to tug. That probably wasn't a smart thing to do. Turns out, she mistook a small portion of the kit's hair for the tail a feather stealing furball.
Satoshi is in the midst of squirming her way out of the pile of debris, while attempting to hold tight to a pair of squirming animals, when a lock of her hair is cruelly pulled. The kit bites back a cry of pain as amber-flecked eyes search for the source, and upon finding not an offending branch but hand... Satoshi does what vampires do best. She bites. None too gently clamping down upon the wrist of whomever is trying to drag her out of the foliage pile by her damned hair. With a snarl and a shake, Satoshi frees herself in a burst of branches, eyes blazing with haughty indignity as they settle upon the willowy dryad.
Quinmyutiotu continued to tug until a sharp pain shot from her hand to her arm, and immediately let go. If the dryad were capable of screaming out, she definitely would've cried out from the bite. While staggering backward to get away from the pile and Satoshi, she pressed her unharmed hand against the bite marks on the other, which were now bleeding a green colored fluid. When the kit emerged from the branches, it finally hit Quin that she had made a very big mistake. The masked dryad lifted her hands in an apologetic manner, then began flailing her hands wildly to pantomime why she accidently tugged Satoshi's hair, and how she mistook her for the squirrel that stole her feather.. It went on longer than necessary. With an abrupt stop, the dryad fled, but didn't move far. Just to the closest tree, which she ducked behind. From there, she crossed her fingers. Hopefully the kit wasn't too angry.
Satoshi's temper splutters and dies like a wisp in the wind at the unexpected lack of retaliation, as well as the frantic game of sharades being played by the dryad. "Ah. Erm," the minstrel weakly manages, blinking her surprise at the slight creature's actions and prompt retreat. Glancing at Ko'tar for answers, Satoshi gets the lyrebird's flawlessly mimicked sound of a man's baffled, 'Huh' in response. Settling the long-tailed bird on her shoulder and holding the squirming squirrel tight, Satoshi inches toward the tree Quinmyutiotu's hidden behind and carefully peers around one side of the trunk, looking more like a curious--if confused--child than the angry, vengeful woman the dryad may be expecting. "Hullo there."
Quinmyutiotu plucked a few of the dying leaves sprouting from her noggin and used them as makeshift bandages for her hand. After securing them with a withered vine -also plucked from her head-, she cautiously moved to peek around the trunk to see if Satoshi had left. Finding herself face to face with the kit made Quin gasp and jump back, terrified that she had returned to take another bite out of her hand. From the eye sockets of the skull covering her face, it'd be easy to see a very confused look take over the dryad's face at the greeting. Perhaps this wasn't a hungry, angry dryad chomper after all. She lifted her uninjured hand to hesitantly wave.
Satoshi lifts her own hand in a similar response, although the kit's wave is rather... squirrely, much to the displeasure of the rattled rodent. Satoshi's oblivious to the squirrel's unhappiness, however, as she flits between peering at the dryad and fishing through her scholarly memories to pluck out what knowledge she has on such beings. Relatively non-violent. Shy. Usually musical--occasionally Forest Sirens. Nodding to herself, and deciding the hair-pulling was likely not in an aggressive manner from the clues she's been given, Satoshi offers the timid woman a slight smile as she nods toward the wounded hand. "Reflex, that. Next time you're gonna pull someone out of a pile of branches, try by their shirt, not hair, hrm~?"
Quinmyutiotu wondered why the woman was shaking the squirrel while she waved, but used that as her chance to snatch the feather. Her hands flew out at Satoshi's, and yanked the blue feather from the squirrel's grasp. Victory! She smiled, more at retrieving the feather than at Satoshi initially, and nodded. After tucking the feather back in its proper place amongst the branches and vines tangling her hair, she jabbed an accusing finger at the squirrel's tail, then at Satoshi's hair. Her finger moved from tail to hair a few times, as if to explain what caused her to make the mistake.
Satoshi instinctively recoils from the sudden lunge of hands, quick enough to keep her body out of harm's way even if her hands are slowest in following--which gives the dryad exactly what she's reaching for. "Uwah!" It takes the kit a few long, startled moments to recover from her surprise and piece together the miming, but Satoshi's not as dim-witted as she plays at and in time she's sorted the entire thing out and quelled her sudden alarm. "Y'know," Satoshi says companionably to the squirrel, "it's generally a bad idea to upset the Tree Ladies, especially when you're a Tree Dweller, little bushtail." The squirrel merely blinks beady black eyes at her before, without warning, he finds himself sailing through the air with freed limbs flailing. Satoshi's tossed the little animal up, certain his quick wits and sharp claws will let him catch the many low branches with ease. Her guess is correct, and once the squirrel's back in his environment he chitters offensive little squirrel curses before turning, shaking his tail rudely at the two, and bolting off to harass someone less agile.
Quinmyutiotu hadn't intended to startle Satoshi, so right when she came to the realization that that might've happened, she tried to apologize by making more hand gestures. Those hand movements came to a slow stop once the kit spoke, and finally came to a stop at the sight of that squirrel being tossed away. Both hands clap over her mouth while the dryad silently gasps, eyes snapping shut for fear of seeing the worst happen to the squirrel. Thief or not, the dryad didn't believe she'd be able to stomach the sight of a squirrel smacking itself against a tree. When no unpleasant thumping noise reaches her ears, the dryad's eyes open and her hands lower. The rude tail shake he is met with a dryad sticking her tongue out, even if he was probably long gone and wouldn't see it.
Satoshi watches the squirrel and dryad with amusement, a single brow raised as she exchanges a glance with the bird-ish companion. "We need to get out of the mountains more often, hm? The forests are entertaining~," Satoshi trills, the musical sound met with a similar one of agreement from the lyrebird. Kit and bird look back to the dryad, both wearing matching expressions of curiosity. "You're a quiet one, aren'tcha?" Ko'tar flashes Satoshi a look as if to say, 'How often do -you- hear a tree talk?' The irony that the lyrebird's truly a sword, and capable of some sort of speech himself is lost on him completely.
Quinmyutiotu turned toward the kit and lyrebird, head tilting off to the side. She had never met somebody that chatted with birds before. Sure, Quin pretended to chat with the birds she knew, but it never actually -looked- like they responded. In fact, it was rare that they did, except for the quetzals. No wonder she liked them so much. To reply she nods, then points at her throat and tries to speak. No sound comes out. With a slight frown, the dryad's head shakes. She was a mute. There was some hope in her however, if the strange masked man she crossed paths with recently made another appearance with good news.
Satoshi looks almost crestfallen at the revelation. So much for getting to hear a Treesong. The kit's got a certain fondness for melodies of nature, from the music of the elementals to the harmony of the dryads and lullabies of the sirens. "How unfortunate," Satoshi murmurs, knowing only a fraction of the dryad's inconveniece--having only been magically without her voice a small number of times, for short periods. Suffice to say, the minstrel found it a kind of torture.
Quinmyutiotu made a solemn nod. If there was anything she wanted most, it'd be to at least try speaking once. That, and mustering up the courage to set foot outside of the forest to see what lie beyond the trees. The stories the dryad heard from passersby in the forest piqued her interest, along with the various trinkets they'd leave behind or that she'd 'find', like their clothes and books. Even those funny puppet things they covered their hands with when it got too cold. Luckily, she was capable of writing. That made communication easier, but it wasn't as good as actually speaking could be.
Satoshi watches the dryad for a long moment, thoughtful, until those thoughts are interrupted by a another's, distant and silent to all but herself. Scowling, the kit clears her throat to catch the woman's attention. "Ahem. I've got to take my leave now. It was, erm, interesting, meeting you, little tree sprite." Satoshi adds lamely, silently cursing couatl-rooted interruptions that refuse to wait. Offering the dryad a salute, the kit turns on a heel and heads eastward, but not before pausing to pluck a long, white tail feather from Ko'tar--much to his pain and suprise--and place it gently upon a rock for Quinmyutiotu to add to her collection, if she wishes. With a squirrel-less wave, Satoshi departs, listening to the chiming complaints of the bird while murmuring, "It'll grow back. You heal as fast as I do."