Urna startled into semi-alertness at Matthias' landing, her tentacles tracing lightning-bolt Zs of surprise. It still wasn't quite enough to convince her to get up from the ground. She blinked away the weariness until she could make out the new arrival.
Lion. Winged. Blue. This guy again. He hadn't been looking for a fight last time, but who knew how things might change, away from her home territory. Urna regarded him through one open eye as he approached. The smell of blood tickled the air, but he didn't look injured. Maybe he'd been hunting, then.
He addressed her, sort of. Had he been so obnoxious last time? Flyers, Urna thought to herself. Part of her wished she'd pestered Gabriel to learn how to spell wings of her own, but a deeper, stubborner part was dead-set on proving her way through life without them. She finally stood, though her muscles hitched and complained at the fresh demand.
The lion—Mmmmatthias, was it?—didn't even seem to be looking at her. Wounded pride aside, maybe she could use his help.
Urna twitched an eye-catching ripple through her tendrils, equivalent to clearing her throat. "I'm on a quest for my god," she said, which was fairly true, if less official than it sounded. "Have you heard, or seen, signs of an...unusual beast, lately? Ancient, enchanted? Not your typical animal-with-extras." She flared her tentacles demonstratively before furling them to take a look around for herself.
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Rolling Perception to also look for clues!
Lion. Winged. Blue. This guy again. He hadn't been looking for a fight last time, but who knew how things might change, away from her home territory. Urna regarded him through one open eye as he approached. The smell of blood tickled the air, but he didn't look injured. Maybe he'd been hunting, then.
He addressed her, sort of. Had he been so obnoxious last time? Flyers, Urna thought to herself. Part of her wished she'd pestered Gabriel to learn how to spell wings of her own, but a deeper, stubborner part was dead-set on proving her way through life without them. She finally stood, though her muscles hitched and complained at the fresh demand.
The lion—Mmmmatthias, was it?—didn't even seem to be looking at her. Wounded pride aside, maybe she could use his help.
Urna twitched an eye-catching ripple through her tendrils, equivalent to clearing her throat. "I'm on a quest for my god," she said, which was fairly true, if less official than it sounded. "Have you heard, or seen, signs of an...unusual beast, lately? Ancient, enchanted? Not your typical animal-with-extras." She flared her tentacles demonstratively before furling them to take a look around for herself.
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Rolling Perception to also look for clues!