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Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )


Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

The boy paused and looked around curiously, before looking down at Christine and his little blue eyes grew bigger as a soft woooow slipped from his lips.

His hair was a floppy brown mop on his head and he stepped a little closer I'm Cameron. What's your name? he asked, squatting down and looking at her, following her tail.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

"Foxes have no need for names, little human. Where is your mother?" Christine replies, conveniently forgetting to mention that she's not really a fox - after all, if you lied to children, it didn't really count, right?
 
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Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Momma is at the town hall. he answered, seeming puzzled that she didn't have a name but not questioning it either.

A talking fox.. I SHOULD TELL ERIKA! he said suddenly, standing up Stay right here! he called scampering not back into the house, but around it, likely to the location of another child.

In the clear for a few seconds it seemed, she could take what she needed and scamper.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Christine leaps at the opportunity and transforms herself into her still naked human form before quickly grabbing what clothes she can and ducks behind the first thing that would likely conceal her from the coming kids, hastily pulling them on and praying that turning back to a fox would magically make them go away until she transformed again.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Grabbing the clothing she needed and getting dressed, before dropping back into her fluffy adorable form with it's bushy tail and child-aweing wonder, Christine managed the feat just in time, and did find to her intense relief, that her clothing shifted with her.

Just as she'd managed to turn back, now hidden behind a large rain barrel at the side of the house, she could hear Cameron and his friend Erika. You're always fibbing Cammy. There's no fox here. But Erika! There was! There was there was there was!

The argument of the children was cute on it's own, she could imagine Cameron's face all pinched up in confusion and anger while she contemplated her own next move. She could try and find more of what she could use in the town, or high tail it back into the forest to find another settlement or even a fucking clue as to what was going on, but a commotion was going on now, the children stopping, and the sound of little feet rushing out into the street along with everyone else as a large bell started to sound in deep, somber tones, regular as her own heartbeat.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Torn by her curiousity, Christine transforms into a fox again and goes to peek at where-ever the gong comes from - keeping safe distance from the dogs, of course.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Peeking out from between the houses, keeping to the shadow, Christine has a decent enough view of what's going on as two men on large stallions, a black and a roan, dressed in white and scarlet robes descend from a hill to the left of the Town hall, a man in heavy shackles and manacles dragged behind them nearly collapsing as the two dismount, and continue on.

Her nose carries the smell of blood and iron and fire to her from the man who's obviously been heavily beaten and tortured, long ragged cuts showing along his arms and bruises marking his body from head to toe, barely keeping up with even the slow pace the robed men were taking, both appearing to be in their middle ages, hair neatly kept but uncut.

Christine watches as they run the mans chains through rings set into a heavy post in the town center and one opens a small book and reads to the man while another unrolls a scroll and addresses the town in a voice dripping with unquestioned malice and authority.

We have the confession of 1 Jacob Verinas Bartholomew, for the crimes of consorting with old gods, and leaving offerings to the forest spirits of such forbidden worship. In the name of his Holiness Bishop Carigdnon the 5th, he is sentenced to death by Iron Cleansing... he read off from the scroll, before closing it.

She could smell the stink of his wounds from here, many allowed to festered just to bring him more pain, this man they'd staked out like an animal for slaughter, and she watched as the liveried man put the scroll at the feet of Jacob, before heading back to his Roan and retrieving a large Iron spike... Christine wasn't sure if she really wanted to watch what happened next.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

I really, really wish I had a flamethrower right now. Christine thinks to herself as she watches the proceedings. Hang on... SHE was a forest spirit, wasn't it? That made it personal. Time to see what tricks other than shapeshifting she could do. Envisioning a bolt of lightning striking from the sky at the liveried man, Christine focuses on the image, trying to make it come true.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Rather then the lightning bolt she was trying to focus on, the image of her flamethrower was what kept slipping back into her mind, and as she felt the power gather inside her, she felt her form change, as well as an unbidden voice, an errant thought. Too far in hiding. before she was standing there in her usual form.

The power reached out to the clergyman, who seemed to be about to do something incredibly unpleasant with that spike, before a wisp of flame appeared on his shoulder, causing the crowd to gasp. Then another, and another.

His companion hadn't noticed yet, but the crowd had, and he was moving now, the spike dropped to the ground. A third pearly blue flame no larger then her fist appeared at the small of his back, and when Christine thought she would burst from the effort, all three exploded.

The outburst of blue flames that curled and consumed the man, seemingly harmless at first, soon turned the orange and yellow of true flame as he screamed in pain and the people fell about panicking, his partner beating frantically to put out the fire as more wisps appeared about him as well, before likewise turning him into a living inferno. The strain of the attack, made from hiding, was exhausting, she had a feeling her fires were not meant to be used so aggressively, or in such numbers at once, but people were starting to look around now...
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Christine blinks her eyes, trying for figure out what just happened. Shit, shit, shit! As the people start looking around, she changes shape again and flees as fast as she can towards the river.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Bailing just in time, she was only noticed by a few and she left the shackled man to his fate while the clergy burned and died behind her as she bolted into the woods. Well... if he had truly been innocent and forced into his confession, he certainly looked guilty now. He may have even been guilty, how was she to know, but she soon left the village behind in her rush, soon safely concealed in the underbrush, ears flat, stomach growling, and feeling much safer.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Hungry AGAIN? Well, burning down rest of the village would have to wait until she had another meal. Actually, it would probably be best to wait until nightfall before going back into the village and ACTUALLY, she didn't know for certain whether the entire village even deserved to burn, or just a few people in there. With a sigh, Christine starts hunting again, staying away from trails smelling of humans for now.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Hunting doesn't give her any problems, it's something that comes entirely naturally to her and rather then a rabbit, she could smell several wild hens and a cock nearby, pheasants. Not only easy for a meal, but a big one as she remembered how easily she'd caught the rabbit before hand.

She could smell a family of rabbits nearby in a den, and if she was reading it right, ducks, and mice near what could only be a full sized lake, but the river itself was still present and it still carried human scent. The lake however didn't.

What she went hunting for was up to her, and there was nothing stopping her from eating her fill.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Ooh, fowl. I might actually have to get some cooking supplies for my den, once I find or make one. Christine thinks before starting to stalk a pheasant, quickly choosing one to kill and devour.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

A fat hen is easy enough to take down, though the other pheasants explode out of the underbrush at her intrusion. But she had her meal, a good one, the hen was in it's breeding season, fat, tender, and very... very tasty.

But she would need to wait if she wanted more, maybe a couple hours, maybe less if they bedded down somewhere else. Her thoughts of a den however made her heart pang strangely, and she knew in her gut that her den, her home, was beyond her reach well and truly. She'd need to make a new home.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Christine DEVOURS the pheasant, savouring every bite, every chunk of meat. After finishing with the meat, she even cracks the biggest bones for their marrow, mournfully pondering her seemingly endless hunger. Den. That would be the next priority, then. A large cave with a small entrance would probably be best, if she could find one. And whatever the place would be, it would have to be safe distance away from the humans. Not having any other plans until the sunset, Christine starts jogging back into her forest in search of a new den.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Rending the pheasant down to nothing but the simplest scraps, Christine felt a good deal better, better then she had all day in fact, and turned her mind to a new den. Her idea of a cave was a good one, but that would require some kind of hill or rock foundation.

The search took her longer then she would have liked, but she kept going until she'd found exactly what she'd wanted, spurred on by the smell of fungus and mold, of dark earth, loam, and stone. Even Stone had a distinct flavor to it.

As the sun was beginning to set, Christine, completely unmolested in the forest, the smell of a cave close by, found what she was after. The only entrance she could make out was like a badger hole, but it was empty, and it emptied out into a large cave with a deep, perfectly round central pool, and.... an altar at the back.

The simple stone table and archway above it was decorated with twisting vines and an eagle at it's highest point looking down over the table. But the hole she had entered from was indeed the only way in, it looked like it had been collapsed into it's current state, and this place was empty and safe.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

A pool? An altar? Despite being fairly certain that no good could come of being in the same cave with an abandoned altar, curiosity pushes her onwards and she descends to the floor of the shrine and changes back into her natural shape. Carefully circling the pool, Christine approaches the altar, studying it and trying to get a sense of what kind of power it was dedicated to.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

The altar itself is clean, not even dust disturbs it's surface which upon closer inspection is polished onyx. As for any power this place was dedicated to, there's only the barest hum coming from the altar itself.

The pool likewise hums softly with some kind of energy still remaining from the days of it's worship, but the spirits are gone from this place, and Christine can detect no malice in this place. Instead a general sense of awe and respect permeates the stone, as you would feel looking down from the skies or the mountain onto the forest, to see it's grandeur spread out before you and realize how small you were for the first time.

But the feeling fades away to just that, a feeling. Turning back to the pool, Christine sees something she missed upon entering, or perhaps she didn't, it was only there now. A birds nest, small, ragged, but with three soft water blue sparrows eggs inside, resting warmly, still alive.
 
Re: Christine ( \oO.Oo/ )

Christine finds herself smiling. Perhaps this wouldn't be a bad place to stay. Idly wondering if she should bring an offering of some sort to the altar just in case, she spots the bird's nest. Not wanting to bother it, she instead goes to the pool, smelling and tasting the water to see if it was clean. Assuming it was, she'd drink her share and then curl up to sleep near the altar.
 
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