In the wake of losing his magic, Feyrith struggles to adapt and survive the new and constant onslaught from the feral jungle beasts, trying to keep himself as well as Sunwood alive. Something unnatural has disturbed the beasts and though it's danger...
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Feyrith stood in front of Edwyr's house, trying to get the quasir he'd been lent to get to know and used to him before Lanna and Arbane came to meet with him. There hadn't been a need for a quasir until now, so Feyrith hadn't had one, and he was still not sure what to do with the way these humans readily gave him one without thinking twice. And he was also still not sure how he felt about being given Edwyr's house either.
Feyrith lightly patted the quasir's head, just like Arbane had told him to do, to which the beast let out a pleased chirp. But Feyrith wasn't looking at his new mount right now. Instead, he was peering at Edwyr's house, feeling a kind of sorrow. He supposed he should feel angry, resentful of Edwyr after what had happened, but instead he was simply sad. He'd not dared touch anything in the house he hadn't strictly needed to touch, leaving everything in its original place. He wasn't even sure why, but it felt wrong.
His entire stay here felt wrong. He'd wanted to go after the elves who had taken his magic, but between the constant beast attacks and generally having very little idea as to where to even start, Feyrith hadn't managed to progress with his plans at all. And he was constantly torn between being glad that at least he was being useful to the locals, helping protect them, and feeling like a failure for losing his magic.
Feyrith swallowed, trying to push away the misery clawing at him. It was much more difficult to keep his emotions in check while around humans, who did very little to hide theirs, and it never failed to make him feel worse.
The quasir cooed, pushing its head against Feyrith's chest and rubbing against him. Feyrith blinked, hesitantly stroking the dark purple feathers on its neck, which just encouraged the animal to push closer to him. Feyrith still wasn't sure how to handle the humans' quasir. They were not all this friendly, but the majority of them didn't seem to treat their humans as masters, but rather as herd members, which was in direct contrast to the elven quasir. From a practical standpoint, this was problematic, as these quasir were quite undisciplined at times, but none of the humans seemed to care.
"Getting along?" came an amused voice from his left, making Feyrith look that way. Arbane and Lanna were walking toward him, their quasir at their sides, equipped with leather armor, bows, and knives. Clearly, they were ready. And so was he, even if he still thought this was dangerous and potentially very much not worth it.
"So it seems," Feyrith replied, looking back at his quasir, which was now bobbing its head at him. It was far too energetic for comfort.
"Have you named him yet?" Lanna asked as she came up to him, scratching the quasir's side.
Feyrith frowned, shaking his head. Of course he hadn't. He had actually entirely forgotten that it was customary for humans to do so.
"We'll think of something." Lanna's smile was genuine but somewhat sad. She and Arbane seemed to get like this from time to time, but at least this time, Feyrith was fairly certain he knew the reason why that was—they missed their friend. They were standing in front of Edwyr's house, after all. When he'd brought up Edwyr in the past, both of the humans seemed unwilling to talk about him, but even to Feyrith it was clear they missed him.
