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01-29-2017, 09:15 PM
I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF
Orangeish eyes close against the white beast’s hot breath and flying saliva. A crown? Wessex snorts and rolls her eyes. Uh, ok. Maybe it was foolish to disregard his (its?) size and the mouthful of sharp teeth - but the young soldier was fairly certain that if he’d wanted to eat one of them, he would have already. Probably one of the earlier arrivals, before the rest of the group arrived; you see, sometimes it pays to be the early bird, sometimes it doesn’t.
She, however, has nothing on her to give the snow creature, no magic to craft something to assuage its ego, nothing but the brains in her head and a clever mind. So with a nod of aknowledgement, Wessex turns away from the group and sets her eyes on the surrounding area. Let’s see… the air is crisp and cool, and though the light is fading, she can see a couple of vultures circling nearby. That means a kill - something either recently dead or long dead would do because up here, the body probably wasn’t rotting yet. Wessex picks up a brisk pace and temporarily leaves the group behind; when she does find the dead animal, she is in luck. It’s an old elk! His antlers were in the process of shedding its velvet covering, leaving the bones looking like they’re hanging in flesh. Perfect.
Wit a snap and a Wessex yanks the pair of antlers off the elk’s skull and as an afterthought, also takes two of the more curved ribs. With a strand of shredded hide, she ties the two ribs into a circle, and then the horns on top, letting them branch out in all their gore. She takes a step back and looks at it with a critical eye. Well, it isn’t shiny or pretty, but it does have a certain powerful effect, and she’s almost positive there wouldn’t be one like it. So she’s got originality going for her. With a roll of her powerful shoulders, Wessex picks up her breation and hurries back to the Yeti and the assembled group. Without fanfare or explanation, she places it with the other assortment of crowns and turns around. Either the ice dweller would like it, or he wouldn’t.
On her way back, she spies Erebos and gives him a nod in greeting. Turns out she isn’t entirely alone in this bizarre task.
She, however, has nothing on her to give the snow creature, no magic to craft something to assuage its ego, nothing but the brains in her head and a clever mind. So with a nod of aknowledgement, Wessex turns away from the group and sets her eyes on the surrounding area. Let’s see… the air is crisp and cool, and though the light is fading, she can see a couple of vultures circling nearby. That means a kill - something either recently dead or long dead would do because up here, the body probably wasn’t rotting yet. Wessex picks up a brisk pace and temporarily leaves the group behind; when she does find the dead animal, she is in luck. It’s an old elk! His antlers were in the process of shedding its velvet covering, leaving the bones looking like they’re hanging in flesh. Perfect.
Wit a snap and a
On her way back, she spies Erebos and gives him a nod in greeting. Turns out she isn’t entirely alone in this bizarre task.
wessex
Makes a crown of shedding elk antlers and rib bone, nods to @Erebos when she recognizes him.
Wessex seeks a Griffin. No prior refusals.
-- magic and force allowed, no death or permanent damage --
