In the land of obscurity
09-27-2015, 10:16 PM
(On the quest for Wintergreen!) Starling was on the hunt for something very rare and very vital for his stores. It was necessary, especially with the drums of war pounding in his ears. If what his father said was true, and a seige was bound to happen, he would have to prepare. If Sin was the monster Arian and Starling's own imagination made him out to be...then he would certainly have to prepare. Pain, laceration bindings, blood clotters. He needed strong herbs, things that would help his family if Sin's army was stronger than any of them expected. It was better to have more, than to not have enough. Which is what brought him here, to this place. The earth was dry enough to grow the herb he was searching for, and he hoped luck was on his side. Wintergreen was not something that was seen very often, and he couldn't remembering seeing a patch the last time he was here. That just meant he would have to take another path, now didnt it! He wouldn't stop searching this mountain until it was definitive that the herb wasn't here. His family depended on it, he believed it in his heart. There was a taste of bile on his tongue from the thought of a seige, his anxiety churning his stomach. Every time he thought of the proposed fight, he couldn't help but think that something would go wrong. Either they weren't prepared for Sin, or he wasn't prepared. Starling wouldn't be able to live with himself if his family suffered because of him, because they depended on him and he wasn't prepared. Even now he felt himself begin to panic, his blue eyes growing so wide before he suddenly stopped. His gaze snapped closed, a whimper lifting from his throat as he sat down, hunching towards the ground. What would he do if someone was critically injured and he couldn't help? No, he couldn't! He had to...his breath came a bit faster as he stared hard at the ground, ears pinned back. He had to find Lyndvarr, had to find Aunt Rhythm...had to search for his healer friends. He had to learn all he could before the war drums grew any louder, he couldn't let anyone bleed because he wasn't prepared. Slowly he sunk to the ground, one paw resting on his muzzle as he stared dead ahead. Was he...even prepared? Oh dear god! He wasn't! "Burn Baby Burn" | "Italian" |