Return to the Featherlands

Out Of The Pan, Into The Fire

Silvia groaned at the water clinging to her clothes. With how difficult it was crossing the rapids, after no preparations doing so, she found treading forward in damp armor somehow worse. Luckily, the leather had not absorbed much, but the parts that did gripped onto her skin uncomfortably, starting the first stages of chills and rashes. She wrung everything out to the best of her ability. She checked the contents of her bag to make sure everything was mostly dry, save for a few loose sheets and a homework assignment that she became skeptical about turning in at all. She wiped her glasses on several things along her way. Leaves, flowers, drier portions of skin, only for each to make her lenses only a little less wet than before while still leaving those annoying streaks. Despite it all, she pressed on. Grumbling, not unlike she would during long, boring road trips with her family, but she did nonetheless.

"Paul... now I have to go look for you..." Silvia muttered beneath her breath. She had not strayed too far from the rapids when she stopped to survey the area. She could still hear the water splashing against the rocks. She sighed and looked around. When she saw nothing, she continued on to a different spot in the area and did the same. The sun left the sky a colorful shade that indicated the last few hours of daylight. She swallowed, wishing to have had some company for the night so she would not be so vulnerable, and such a variable gave 'finding Paul' an additional element of urgency.

Silvia yawned. She pressed forward in damp clothes, feeling a frighting chill start licking her skin as the light in the sky began to fade. She looked back in the direction of the rapids. The distant rushing of the water made tracing other sounds much more difficult and Silvia knew that heading back to Sprite's Hollow was likely a worse idea than simply staying out in the cold for the night. She continued her search, lugging the heavy, water-soaked bag across her back while examining distinct spots in hope of finding the whereabouts of Paul. Step by step, her boots crunched against fallen twigs and dried leaves. Silvia had strayed far from any set path, finding herself mostly walking through wider spaced trees and patches of moss.

From what she could hear, there was little other movement around than her own, save for the innocent scampering of smaller creatures. However, a thickness in the air wafted with the scent of smoke. Peering through the brush, Silvia began to see the glowing resonance of flickering light. The orange vibrance cut through the wilderness. She inched closer to it, carefully avoiding making too much noise. As Silvia came closer, she began hearing sounds to accompany the light. A light crackling from the flames, distant mumbling, and the rowdy hoots and hollers of boisterous voices shouting without care.

"Awww, whats'a matter?" the scraggly voice of a Scrawl echoed out. "Pretty boy can't take no more?" Silvia made her way carefully toward the noises. She recognized the scraggly tone of the Scrawl with their unappealing, raspy voices and obnoxious cackles. Their voices echoed through the trees. They appeared to be coming from the light of the fire, making way for a massive camp where the Scrawl appeared to congregate.

As Silvia came closer, near enough to get a decent view of the Scrawl commune, she progressively made out more and more defining details. Concentrations of woven straw and twigs made up intimate shelters throughout. Some were larger and stood on the ground, making the clearing look more like a campsite, while others were smaller and more scattered up into the branches above and surrounding it. Smaller banners made up of woven reeds dyed with vibrant colors hung strung throughout the clearing on poles and ropes. Smaller creatures were kept in cages for farming while just outside of the clearing, plots of crops were stationed next to one another. The Scrawl had a better setup than Silvia had expected, certainly better than the fairies had back at Sprite's Hollow after the Badland takeover.

In the center of the site, a roaring fair sat carefully away from any of the wooden materials. It was large, the flames licking far over any of their heads, while not so high as to reach the branches above. Smoke billowed upward, however, blocking out Silvia's view of the sky above. She could feel the heat from where she hid, still scouting the discovered land. The Scrawl were scattered about, all chatting and rowdy. Some danced by the fire. Some guffawed and cackled in small groups, pouring strange drinks from bottles into each other's mouths. Many, however, appeared to be circling around a specific spot on the other side of the camp. It seemed to be where most of the noise was coming from. Silvia swallowed and carefully circled around the perimeter to get a better view.