NIGHT 47: M91-M100 Hallway
A bed could be made out of many different materials. Straw beds were nice but could be rather itchy, not to mention you'd be pulling bits of straw out of your tail for weeks! Ranulf didn't like feather beds much either, although he didn't suppose he had a wide variety he'd slept in to make a valid opinion of. He'd tossed and turned in the one he'd had the privilege to lie in before, and after half an hour had chosen to sleep on the rug instead. This was the main reason, of course, that he'd chosen to sleep on the tall stone altar in the Serenes Forest that night rather than do what an ordinary person would by making a bed out of piles of dead leaves and other assorted forest debris. The altar was firm and had an odd sort of energy to it that comforted him as he drifted off, much like a heartbeat would to a young kit. This resonance, paired with the ambient noise of the forest, was like a lullaby as he'd closed his eyes and drifted off into unconsciousness.
This, perhaps, was why he realized something was wrong. Half-asleep, eyes still shut tight and attempting to block out the possibility of his body even attempting to awaken, he felt something was off. No not off . . .missing. Ahhh, man, now he couldn't get back to sleep. He probably just needed to roll over. Yeah, that must be it. Ranulf reached down to move his tail out of the way- and his eyes shot wide open as his hand grasped nothing.
"Wha.. What?"
He sat up quickly in the dark, both hands now scrabbling across the lower half of his backside trying to locate the appendage that somehow no longer existed. Ranulf tried to reason with himself. This had to be a dream! Tails didn't just... well... disappear! He brought his arms around his knees, attempting to collect his thoughts. As he did, his mind realized a missing tail may be the least of his worries. The noise of the forest had disappeared, the altar he'd been sleeping on replaced with some kind of... what was this? A boxy mattress? He pressed down on it a few times, feeling his hands give a sort of spring as they bounced back up again, the strange bed squeaking in protest. Something must have been wrong with it though because the squeak wasn't nearly loud enough. Then again, now that he thought about it, everything seemed quieter. He reached up to dig his right pinky into his ear and ended up nicking himself in the side of the head. His ears!
"No... no!" he muttered, his hands feeling around the side of his head until he found two fleshy protrusions jutting from the sides. He touched them tenderly between his thumb and index fingers, examining them. Were these beorc ears? If it were a dream, it was a very strange one. He wished he could take a look at his reflection! If only it wasn't so dark!
What would he do? Without his tail or ears, it would probably be safe to assume he couldn't transform either and considering whomever had done this to him probably had ill-intent, he'd need some sort of weapon to defend himself with. If there was anything he'd learned from being one of King Caineghis' trusted vassals, one of the most important things to do when captured was to check your surroundings. He felt blindly around the bed, tossing the blanket and sheets about until he came across his pillow. He lifted and felt under it, and his hand hit something large and bulky. Confused, he rubbed his hands over it's smooth surface and his fingers collided with a squarish sort of knob.
LIGHT! Ranulf hissed, spots dancing in front of his eyes, dropping the object on the bed. After rubbing his eyes with his knuckles for a moment, he cautiously picked the object up again. A torch with no fire? Was this some form of magic as well? He played with the knob, switching it on and off a few times with amusement. Well, at least now he could see! He used the "torch" to get a better look at his surroundings and came to the conclusion that he must have been taken prisoner by a wealthy laguz-torture camp. The furniture wasn't like anything he'd ever seen before. His own furniture back home looked outdated, even primitive compared to the standard wooden desk and dresser laid about the room. There also appeared to be another bed, but it was currently unoccupied.
Ranulf swung his legs over the side of the bed and, using the magic torch, noticed his clothing had changed also. Instead of his usual garb, he now sported a white sleeveless undershirt and a pair of soft grey pants, a small pair of shorts hidden underneath with some odd design on them. The scout wasn't very surprised though. If they could take his body parts, why wouldn't they steal his clothing too? Letting out a sigh, he stood up to walk forward... and fell flat on his face. The "torch" skidded under the opposite bed as he groaned loudly, sitting up and nursing his bruised knee. He'd never walked without a tail to keep his balance before. What was he going to do without-- No. He had to keep his emotions in check. The objective, for now, was to escape this place and report it to the King. He knew King Caineghis would make sure to exterminate this place so no other laguz would befall the fate he had succumbed to.
Following the light with his eyes, he felt under the bed to retrieve the "torch". Once he had it back in his grasp and lighting the way, he stood himself up by grabbing on to the bed to support himself. Then, using the bed and desk as support, he practiced walking in his altered body. He managed to accomplish a standard walk after a while and eventually didn't need to use the furniture for support anymore, though he was sure he'd end up meeting the floor again soon enough. Even though he thought it a joke to attempt to leave, he tried the door anyway and was surprised to find out it swung open rather easily. First the gift of the "torch" and now this? What kind of prison was this? Was this a game to them... whoever they were? He peeked his head out of the door cautiously, the "torch" shaking in his hand and then stepped out of the room into the darkened hallway.
[to here]
This, perhaps, was why he realized something was wrong. Half-asleep, eyes still shut tight and attempting to block out the possibility of his body even attempting to awaken, he felt something was off. No not off . . .missing. Ahhh, man, now he couldn't get back to sleep. He probably just needed to roll over. Yeah, that must be it. Ranulf reached down to move his tail out of the way- and his eyes shot wide open as his hand grasped nothing.
"Wha.. What?"
He sat up quickly in the dark, both hands now scrabbling across the lower half of his backside trying to locate the appendage that somehow no longer existed. Ranulf tried to reason with himself. This had to be a dream! Tails didn't just... well... disappear! He brought his arms around his knees, attempting to collect his thoughts. As he did, his mind realized a missing tail may be the least of his worries. The noise of the forest had disappeared, the altar he'd been sleeping on replaced with some kind of... what was this? A boxy mattress? He pressed down on it a few times, feeling his hands give a sort of spring as they bounced back up again, the strange bed squeaking in protest. Something must have been wrong with it though because the squeak wasn't nearly loud enough. Then again, now that he thought about it, everything seemed quieter. He reached up to dig his right pinky into his ear and ended up nicking himself in the side of the head. His ears!
"No... no!" he muttered, his hands feeling around the side of his head until he found two fleshy protrusions jutting from the sides. He touched them tenderly between his thumb and index fingers, examining them. Were these beorc ears? If it were a dream, it was a very strange one. He wished he could take a look at his reflection! If only it wasn't so dark!
What would he do? Without his tail or ears, it would probably be safe to assume he couldn't transform either and considering whomever had done this to him probably had ill-intent, he'd need some sort of weapon to defend himself with. If there was anything he'd learned from being one of King Caineghis' trusted vassals, one of the most important things to do when captured was to check your surroundings. He felt blindly around the bed, tossing the blanket and sheets about until he came across his pillow. He lifted and felt under it, and his hand hit something large and bulky. Confused, he rubbed his hands over it's smooth surface and his fingers collided with a squarish sort of knob.
LIGHT! Ranulf hissed, spots dancing in front of his eyes, dropping the object on the bed. After rubbing his eyes with his knuckles for a moment, he cautiously picked the object up again. A torch with no fire? Was this some form of magic as well? He played with the knob, switching it on and off a few times with amusement. Well, at least now he could see! He used the "torch" to get a better look at his surroundings and came to the conclusion that he must have been taken prisoner by a wealthy laguz-torture camp. The furniture wasn't like anything he'd ever seen before. His own furniture back home looked outdated, even primitive compared to the standard wooden desk and dresser laid about the room. There also appeared to be another bed, but it was currently unoccupied.
Ranulf swung his legs over the side of the bed and, using the magic torch, noticed his clothing had changed also. Instead of his usual garb, he now sported a white sleeveless undershirt and a pair of soft grey pants, a small pair of shorts hidden underneath with some odd design on them. The scout wasn't very surprised though. If they could take his body parts, why wouldn't they steal his clothing too? Letting out a sigh, he stood up to walk forward... and fell flat on his face. The "torch" skidded under the opposite bed as he groaned loudly, sitting up and nursing his bruised knee. He'd never walked without a tail to keep his balance before. What was he going to do without-- No. He had to keep his emotions in check. The objective, for now, was to escape this place and report it to the King. He knew King Caineghis would make sure to exterminate this place so no other laguz would befall the fate he had succumbed to.
Following the light with his eyes, he felt under the bed to retrieve the "torch". Once he had it back in his grasp and lighting the way, he stood himself up by grabbing on to the bed to support himself. Then, using the bed and desk as support, he practiced walking in his altered body. He managed to accomplish a standard walk after a while and eventually didn't need to use the furniture for support anymore, though he was sure he'd end up meeting the floor again soon enough. Even though he thought it a joke to attempt to leave, he tried the door anyway and was surprised to find out it swung open rather easily. First the gift of the "torch" and now this? What kind of prison was this? Was this a game to them... whoever they were? He peeked his head out of the door cautiously, the "torch" shaking in his hand and then stepped out of the room into the darkened hallway.
[to here]