MINI EVENT: BAD MOON RISING

[sticksandbonesmods]

BAD WOLF

Content Warning: Werewolves and werewolf-related violence.

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WITCHING HOUR

Time passes oddly in this realm. Surely you've seen it by now. Looking to the sky grants different views and moons every night, almost disconnected. The weather is impossible to predict when the clouds don't truly matter. All you have to rely on is that a day and night cycle exists and even then... ... Well. Surely it doesn't matter. Right? (Or does it?) But perhaps more importantly is that tonight, the night is clear and crisp. The flowers in the grove face the moon almost like reverent followers to a preacher. And should you follow their open gaze, you will see that the moon is bright and full and red.

Rusty whines and the Trader has drawn her stall in, and even the sleepy turtle she rides is more alert. The Shopkeeper hisses quietly to himself, barring the windows slowly- and if you're close by, he tells you that it'd be best you do the same. He dares not close the door yet though- just in case someone needs the shelter.

A howl pierces the sky, and it's quickly joined by others, echoing through the woods. The crunch of leaves and sticks and roots breaking under hulking steps makes a presence known- and white, frenzied eyes can be seen in the shadows. Not just one pair- if you're outside, or at the window, you can see dozens from all angles. As they get closer to the clearing, their sharp teeth glint in the moonlight. Another howl, and the wolf-men charge. Fight or defend your residence- but the beasts do not go down easily. Not when wounds slowly stitch themselves back together.

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Comments

[succiduous]

That's what I intend to check. The external components seem to be in order, not a scratch on them, but I fear the internal elements might have been damaged in some manner. This location is entirely new to me, and several other pieces of technology I have on my person have been affected by my arrival.

[He doesn't mention "what" specifically, and he's almost positive he knows why basic things like communicators and his phone aren't working — but still, he can't help but double-check. Everything other than the canelike thing on the table is all negligible to him. He needs nothing to function other than his Arts unit, which he's carefully opening up and analysing the inside of.]

You wouldn't happen to know why that is?

[lostpsalm]

Mmn... If yours are treasures that carry forth a power, within themselves...

The forest could have chosen them for its feast.

_{[ Rennuid carefully withdraws a mirror from the folds of the big layered sash wrapped around his middle. The plant's infection of his mirror remains. An insidious little flower blooms upon its back. ]}

[succiduous]

[Sharp eyes watch every move Rennuid makes, tracing the outline of the mirror and the petals emerging from something petals should not feasibly be able to emerge from. It reminds Gnosis distantly of the originium that rains from the skies during catastrophes, the insidious mineral that spreads and grows rapidly across the earth when it touches down.

Interesting.]

Do you mind? [He asks, attention sufficiently drawn away from his own work — for a time.] I'd like to observe it.