Somebody has to go polish the stars

The Deep Forest was a lonely place, or so Kipling had come to believe. Despite many excursions into the dark woods, he had yet to encounter anyone here. There were signs of life, but none ever seemed to materialize. The whispering trees and rustling undergrowth should have unsettled anyone with at least an iota of common sense; fortunately for Kipling, he was not afflicted with that particular predilection. He actually rather liked the Deep Forest. Companionship and herd life were all well and good, but he had been his own best friend for a very long time. He craved quality time with his own obscure little thoughts, and this seemed as good a place as any to be alone in Helovia.

Kipling was considering a large, bulbous white mushroom when the bird's scream shattered his studies. He jerked his head up, ears twitching, then shrugged his narrow shoulders and trotted in the direction of the sound. It was easy enough to find its source - the forest Kipling had thought empty suddenly buzzed to life, and like iron filings to a magnet, they followed the caw.

A raven and an egg greeted them in shrill, sinister fashion. Again, the "common sense" thing should have kept Kipling away, and again, he remained thoughtfully oblivious. Why is the egg so shiny? I've never seen an egg like this. Ravens usually lay more than one egg, and this doesn't look like a normal raven, anyways - it's colored differently. Besides, ravens don't talk. But neither did turtles, and the turtle in the sky talked…

I want to talk to him.

So consumed by his thoughts, Kipling hadn't noticed the wind picking up around him. By the time he tried to step forward, a ferocious gale was pushing him back; he would've had to use all of his strength simply to shout loud enough to be heard, and that seemed like no way to have a conversation. The raven-thing and its egg-thing remained oddly - almost supernaturally - unmoved. Carefully stepping with the wind, Kipling stumbled to the nearest tree, squinting at the log to shield his eyes from the flying debris. How can I talk to him now? I have to get him to come closer…

On cue, the amulet Kipling carried around his neck thumped against the center of his chest. Of course! He had seen ravens carrying shiny things before, and the amulet was pretty shiny… He just had to get the bird to come to him. The stallion swung his head around and easily bit through the vine that secured his prize, grasping both ends of the now-broken rope firmly in his teeth. The amulet flew back towards him, struggling to break free and blow away. Kipling held on, mumble-whinnying loudly through his closed mouth in a desperate attempt to get the bird's attention.

If only this damn wind would die down so we could talk…!

Kipling's heart wrenched as, without explanation, his only idea literally shattered, precious shards flying helplessly away in the gust. He frowned, opening his mouth and letting the now-useless vine go, too. "Can we just talk?" He shouted, exasperated, and flung himself scrambling forward towards the eye of the storm where the strange bird and its strange prize safely sat.

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OOC: Kipling tries to get the raven's attention with his Earth amulet and accidentally activates it with unknown effects, evidently hoping it will ward him from the wind so that he can safely approach the log.

Wishlist - Cerndyr (Earth Spirit).
No prior refusals.

Kipling