Ardyn Cadeyrn Aodhán Phoenix Adravendi

The darkness was ebbing away outside. It was a relief; he could feel his mind clearing slowly, and soon his ethereal ancestress was drawing him and his mother, Tel, Drachen, and Amory out to get fresh air, and smell the light. The days were returning, still wan and small, but there. There had been so much loss from the plague—Justice, Domari, Paladin… Perhaps it could have been blamed on old age, but they’d been sick with the plague. The Heir wasn’t sure what the future held, but he knew his mother had been hit hard with it all. He, at two, was old enough to step up into her place. He wasn’t entirely certain he was ready for it, but he’d already gotten to have longer than his mother had before she was made Archangel of Celestial. She’d had Gwenevere at her side as a guide while grandfather had been out bringing back Grandmother and Uncle Aramis. Who would he have? The natural answer – at least the eventual one – was Coran. But Coran would be just as inexperienced as Ardyn, and so… Perhaps Cairo. Ardyn was sprawled out in the soft sand outside the main chamber of the caves, chin resting over a curled-digited forepaw, leaving room for his sabers, though his eyes were on the strange metal thing he’d nearly tripped over on a prescribed walk earlier. It was thin, a wire bent into the shape of a flattened triangle, with a hook at the top. He didn’t know what the original use was, but he could see it being excellent for the healers to hang herbs to dry on, or perhaps he could hang meat to dry over a fire. His chest tightened. No more hunts with Domari, no more crafting with the old Xanilov. No more humming from Paladin, or snarky, feisty remarks from Justice. But however badly hewas hurting, he knew Legacy was even more of a wreck. In one third of a season she’d lost her aunt before she’d really gotten to know her, and her father when she’d only really just begun to learn more about him. Ardyn knew she’d lost her stepfather in the Nomads, and some of her half-siblings, who’d barely been more than pups. Erani’s inexplicable presence had been a boon, giving the yearling time to grieve between tending patients. How long would the Once-Queen remain among the living? Time would only tell. He hoped she’d stay, perhaps selfishly. Sighing, he pushed himself up and plucked the possible new meat drying rack in his nimble digits, balancing on his haunches as he examined the object thoughtfully. “Hey, Lyr?” His voice was still rough and croaky, but he cleared his throat and added as the raven swooped into the ravine from the main chamber and the perch that had once been that of Surreal’s hawk friend Battlesong, “Could you hang this up in a moment? I’d like to try using it for a rawhide braiding anchor, maybe.” The raven plucked up the object and hopped into the air, fluttering into the cave to hook it over one of the rods used for the bear hide curtains over the alcoves. Gathering his supplies, Ardyn wet the rawhide and went to work. Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think

Clothes Hanger

For clothes, not meat!

As your companion hangs the clothes hanger over the rod used to dry rawhide and meat, you think of all the things you COULD hang on it. Yes, maybe rawhide, yes, maybe a braiding anchor, but maybe MORE. Maybe a nice coat, a crown, something pleasing to the eye, something dashing. Yes, you think this hanger could be used for a whole host of clothing and accessories.

You gain:

• Unlimited Accessories- Can not provide fight bonus