Common Text
Xanthean Text
Kashehino Text
Vhalar 21, 717
Qit'ria couldn't stop scratching at her arms and legs, scowling all the while as she did. There was some red, raised rash upon her, and she was staring at the plant she was pretty sure had caused it. After all, it was the only plant today she'd been arms and legs deep in. It was some sort of vine, clinging to a tree. The worst type of plant. A tree choker. Even more so after the slight it had given her. She studied it, to make sure she never forgot it again. Each leaf had three leaves, green but with a slight reddish sheen on one side of it. The vines clung to the bark with tiny little tendrils.
Grabbing her sword, she crouched down next to it. She stabbed her sword carefully into the soil at the base of the vine, ensuring to not stab at the tree's trunk or roots. She dug around, hoping to get at the roots, and she was satisfied it was enough. Qit'ria carefully then edged her blade up underneath the main vine, severing each of the tinier clinging tendrils. Higher and higher she sawed, separating the tree choker from the life giving tree, until finally it fell away to the ground. She scooped it up with her blade, and marched her way over to the river.
She slid down the muddy embankment and jumped into the shallows. She tossed the plant into the water, and rolled a rock on top of it. Now it definitely would not regrow. Damnable abomination of a plant. She stashed her sword away in the straps on her thigh, and shrugged off her pack. She hung it from a tree's root on the embankment. Stepping upstream from the damned plant, Qit'ria crouched down, and scooped up some of the clear water, splashing it over the rash. It provided some temporary relief to the itch, but it truly was short. It was back before long, and she growled, glaring at the rock that served as a gravestone for her defeated foe.
Reaching down, she scooped up some of the dark, fertile mud, and slathered that on her arms and legs. It was not nearly as quick as the water had been, but it helped. And it lasted a bit. She sighed, happy at this outcome. The heat and constant light of Saun was awful, but this itch she'd had all day was worse. She stripped out of her clothes, removed everything except her necklace, her totem of self, and her bracelet, her totem of the Aye-aye mouse. She stashed her clothes and gear with her bag, and hopped out from rock to rock, to her favorite of them all. It was a large boulder sitting right in the middle of the gently flowing river.
One final leap brought her to her rock, and she quickly sat down upon it. She knew the sun was directly over head, so today she decided to face downstream instead of away from the occasionally distracting light. She crossed her legs, tucking her feet in behind her knees, and closed her eyes. Bear had emphasized that meditation would help to provide some control when it came to the Spark within her. Such a strange being. She could feel how it connected them, but couldn't quite decipher what that felt like. She just knew that Bear was hers, and she was his. But... there was more to it, and was not anything romantic in the slightest. They were soulmates, but bonded by a monster. A powerful monster, that made them more powerful. Qit'ria had felt some of the minor side effects of it, but she'd not yet seen any of the true dangers of the magic itself.
She decided to meditate as often as she could, so as to try and keep this Spark in control. So she settled into her tried and true practice of meditation. She began focusing on the forest and river around her, then moving one stimulus at a time from her mind. The birds chittering were first to go. The wind came next. She repeated this time and time again until there was just herself and the slow moving river beneath her. Qit'ria focused on this for a while, relishing the tranquility it brought her. The river was how she hoped to be in this situation. Calm, gentle, but with a great reservoir of power at hand. This river only became raging when it need to be in order to survive.
But soon the river slipped away, and all that was left was her own breath. That was an easy one to dispel, and she sought for more inward. Her heart was thumping slowly, her lungs expanding and contracting, her stomach grumbling a bit, but she pushed them all aside, one by one. Until her Spark was the only thing left. It hummed gently, notes that were not so much sound as it was just feelings. And there was a childlike rhythm to it. Her spark was young she gathered, which was true, if that was how such things worked.
She reached out with her soul to the Spark, and it perked up, like a child that was waiting for something fun to happen. The tendril of Qit'ria's magic gently caressed the spark within her, and she felt a... purring sort of noise emanating from it. Her Spark liked it, and was letting her know. She continued to caress it until her Spark shifted a bit. If it were a tangible thing, it would be looking at her. But for now, she just "felt" its gaze on her soul. She could feel that it wanted to... play. To transform her body. To do something different than just living within her. It wasn't an unreasonable feeling, she'd been hesitant to transform often.
Her tendril combined with one from her spark, intertwining until there was no difference, as it reached through her body, heading for her aye-aye mouse totem. She wasted no time, plunging the tendril of magic into the totem, feeling it awaken from a slumber. It was a bit... cranky today. She smiled, she didn't know totems could feel things like that. She let her tendril caress the magic, the identity of her totem, just as she did with her spark, and it calmed down. It didn't purr, nor make any sort of false noise. It just hummed in her hold.
Qit'ria was about to pull the essence out and begin the transformation, when she decided to try something else first. She sent out another tendril, for the totem around her neck, the knuckle bone from her own missing finger dangling in the slight valley between her breasts. She plunged the tendril into it as well, and repeated the process. Though this one was strange, for it felt like her. It was her. Caressing herself was strange, but she did it anyways, and her totem was a bit discomforted by it, at first. But it settled down and appreciated it, though never truly liked it. That's fair, Qit'ria had never been afforded such gestures in her use, so she never grew up to like them.
Then Qit'ria began the process of pulling the mouse essence into her, while still maintaining that hold on her self totem. It was a slow process still, and horrifically painful. She had to shatter her bones so that they could become smaller. She had to fold her organs and skin in on themselves over and over again to shrink downward. She had to force her skin to sprout thick wiry hair, to force her eyes to expand along with elongating her skull. But during her transformation, there was still a tendril on herself totem, and she felt it give a moment of fear. A fear of being left behind.
Unsure of what to do mid transformation, she pulled at the entire essence of the totem, but kept it at "arm's reach," while continuing her transformation. This resulted in her totem being buried into her transformation as well. Transforming still took several bits for the Becomer, but once it was done, she rested and relaxed for just a moment. She looked down at her front leg, where she'd felt her totem being buried in the transformation. There, just under the fur, was an outline of the necklace, barely noticeable in her skin.
She wondered how many other totems she could store like that. She loved the idea though, for it kept her totem safe in this form. Or rather, as safe as she was. Which she was not. She was very much exposed. She reached inward once more, and could hear her spark again. It wanted to play as the mouse, to experience things through its senses. So there was no changing back yet, and Qit'ria was fine with that. She slid off the rock, and plunked into the water, immediately swimming to the next nearest rock. Hop, hop, hop, she made her way back to the shoreline, and under the cover it provided, so no nasty hawk would just swoop her up. It made sense why Bear picked his form. Nothing ever hunted a bear. Many things hunted a mouse. But still, there was a... niceness in being able to be small. Lots of opportunities.
But she also wanted to try big sometime too. Maybe a bear too. Though not a grizzly like her soulmate. Maybe she could find another kind here. But for now, she just sniffed around, drank water, and looked for something to eat, all the while, her spark relishing in its playtime.
Xanthean Text
Kashehino Text
Vhalar 21, 717
Qit'ria couldn't stop scratching at her arms and legs, scowling all the while as she did. There was some red, raised rash upon her, and she was staring at the plant she was pretty sure had caused it. After all, it was the only plant today she'd been arms and legs deep in. It was some sort of vine, clinging to a tree. The worst type of plant. A tree choker. Even more so after the slight it had given her. She studied it, to make sure she never forgot it again. Each leaf had three leaves, green but with a slight reddish sheen on one side of it. The vines clung to the bark with tiny little tendrils.
Grabbing her sword, she crouched down next to it. She stabbed her sword carefully into the soil at the base of the vine, ensuring to not stab at the tree's trunk or roots. She dug around, hoping to get at the roots, and she was satisfied it was enough. Qit'ria carefully then edged her blade up underneath the main vine, severing each of the tinier clinging tendrils. Higher and higher she sawed, separating the tree choker from the life giving tree, until finally it fell away to the ground. She scooped it up with her blade, and marched her way over to the river.
She slid down the muddy embankment and jumped into the shallows. She tossed the plant into the water, and rolled a rock on top of it. Now it definitely would not regrow. Damnable abomination of a plant. She stashed her sword away in the straps on her thigh, and shrugged off her pack. She hung it from a tree's root on the embankment. Stepping upstream from the damned plant, Qit'ria crouched down, and scooped up some of the clear water, splashing it over the rash. It provided some temporary relief to the itch, but it truly was short. It was back before long, and she growled, glaring at the rock that served as a gravestone for her defeated foe.
Reaching down, she scooped up some of the dark, fertile mud, and slathered that on her arms and legs. It was not nearly as quick as the water had been, but it helped. And it lasted a bit. She sighed, happy at this outcome. The heat and constant light of Saun was awful, but this itch she'd had all day was worse. She stripped out of her clothes, removed everything except her necklace, her totem of self, and her bracelet, her totem of the Aye-aye mouse. She stashed her clothes and gear with her bag, and hopped out from rock to rock, to her favorite of them all. It was a large boulder sitting right in the middle of the gently flowing river.
One final leap brought her to her rock, and she quickly sat down upon it. She knew the sun was directly over head, so today she decided to face downstream instead of away from the occasionally distracting light. She crossed her legs, tucking her feet in behind her knees, and closed her eyes. Bear had emphasized that meditation would help to provide some control when it came to the Spark within her. Such a strange being. She could feel how it connected them, but couldn't quite decipher what that felt like. She just knew that Bear was hers, and she was his. But... there was more to it, and was not anything romantic in the slightest. They were soulmates, but bonded by a monster. A powerful monster, that made them more powerful. Qit'ria had felt some of the minor side effects of it, but she'd not yet seen any of the true dangers of the magic itself.
She decided to meditate as often as she could, so as to try and keep this Spark in control. So she settled into her tried and true practice of meditation. She began focusing on the forest and river around her, then moving one stimulus at a time from her mind. The birds chittering were first to go. The wind came next. She repeated this time and time again until there was just herself and the slow moving river beneath her. Qit'ria focused on this for a while, relishing the tranquility it brought her. The river was how she hoped to be in this situation. Calm, gentle, but with a great reservoir of power at hand. This river only became raging when it need to be in order to survive.
But soon the river slipped away, and all that was left was her own breath. That was an easy one to dispel, and she sought for more inward. Her heart was thumping slowly, her lungs expanding and contracting, her stomach grumbling a bit, but she pushed them all aside, one by one. Until her Spark was the only thing left. It hummed gently, notes that were not so much sound as it was just feelings. And there was a childlike rhythm to it. Her spark was young she gathered, which was true, if that was how such things worked.
She reached out with her soul to the Spark, and it perked up, like a child that was waiting for something fun to happen. The tendril of Qit'ria's magic gently caressed the spark within her, and she felt a... purring sort of noise emanating from it. Her Spark liked it, and was letting her know. She continued to caress it until her Spark shifted a bit. If it were a tangible thing, it would be looking at her. But for now, she just "felt" its gaze on her soul. She could feel that it wanted to... play. To transform her body. To do something different than just living within her. It wasn't an unreasonable feeling, she'd been hesitant to transform often.
Her tendril combined with one from her spark, intertwining until there was no difference, as it reached through her body, heading for her aye-aye mouse totem. She wasted no time, plunging the tendril of magic into the totem, feeling it awaken from a slumber. It was a bit... cranky today. She smiled, she didn't know totems could feel things like that. She let her tendril caress the magic, the identity of her totem, just as she did with her spark, and it calmed down. It didn't purr, nor make any sort of false noise. It just hummed in her hold.
Qit'ria was about to pull the essence out and begin the transformation, when she decided to try something else first. She sent out another tendril, for the totem around her neck, the knuckle bone from her own missing finger dangling in the slight valley between her breasts. She plunged the tendril into it as well, and repeated the process. Though this one was strange, for it felt like her. It was her. Caressing herself was strange, but she did it anyways, and her totem was a bit discomforted by it, at first. But it settled down and appreciated it, though never truly liked it. That's fair, Qit'ria had never been afforded such gestures in her use, so she never grew up to like them.
Then Qit'ria began the process of pulling the mouse essence into her, while still maintaining that hold on her self totem. It was a slow process still, and horrifically painful. She had to shatter her bones so that they could become smaller. She had to fold her organs and skin in on themselves over and over again to shrink downward. She had to force her skin to sprout thick wiry hair, to force her eyes to expand along with elongating her skull. But during her transformation, there was still a tendril on herself totem, and she felt it give a moment of fear. A fear of being left behind.
Unsure of what to do mid transformation, she pulled at the entire essence of the totem, but kept it at "arm's reach," while continuing her transformation. This resulted in her totem being buried into her transformation as well. Transforming still took several bits for the Becomer, but once it was done, she rested and relaxed for just a moment. She looked down at her front leg, where she'd felt her totem being buried in the transformation. There, just under the fur, was an outline of the necklace, barely noticeable in her skin.
She wondered how many other totems she could store like that. She loved the idea though, for it kept her totem safe in this form. Or rather, as safe as she was. Which she was not. She was very much exposed. She reached inward once more, and could hear her spark again. It wanted to play as the mouse, to experience things through its senses. So there was no changing back yet, and Qit'ria was fine with that. She slid off the rock, and plunked into the water, immediately swimming to the next nearest rock. Hop, hop, hop, she made her way back to the shoreline, and under the cover it provided, so no nasty hawk would just swoop her up. It made sense why Bear picked his form. Nothing ever hunted a bear. Many things hunted a mouse. But still, there was a... niceness in being able to be small. Lots of opportunities.
But she also wanted to try big sometime too. Maybe a bear too. Though not a grizzly like her soulmate. Maybe she could find another kind here. But for now, she just sniffed around, drank water, and looked for something to eat, all the while, her spark relishing in its playtime.
