[Stryx] Song of Reamere: CH 1

Serianis has heard the rumors of this sea monster said to be lurking out in the depths. No more boats have ventured out onto the waves, and from those that remain within the shallows, he’s heard naught but fearful whispers. The idea that there could be something even larger and more fearsome than him lurking undersea is not one that he’s particularly fond of. This is his territory. His shadow beneath the fishing boats is supposed to be what they fear, not some other creature. And with no boats going out, there are no easy picking for his hunting, no stragglers from the nets. The creature has ruined his entire way of life.

Were he not underwater, his fur would be bristling at the thought.

His dark form slips quietly through the water, little more than a shadow in the water when viewed from the docks above. A few startled noises herald his arrival, but for the most part, he goes unnoticed as he clings to the wooden supports of the pier.

There’s more bustle today than usual. Unfamiliar scents and sounds have dominated the city for the past several days from the multitude of stryx and riders who have come to investigate the rumors of the sea monster. From what he can glimpse from his vantage point, many of them seem to have packs and supplies as they board the various boats awaiting them.

Serianis growls frustratedly, fins rattling. This intruder in his territory… he needs to chase it out. Perhaps he should also venture out to do so. But he has no idea what he should bring – he does not usually prepare when he forays out into deeper waters. If all of these other stryx and riders are packing things, though… Surely it’s important.

Digging his claws into the wood, he pulls himself from the water, peeking his head over the edge of the pier. Bustling feet cross back and forth, a cacophony of screeches and howls piling on top of the normal noise as all of the visiting stryx complain and argue with each other. So distracted by the clamoring, no one notices him watching the proceedings from so low to the water.

Nearby, a rider argues with one of the dock workers, his stryx clicking its beak impatiently just a few paces away. At his feet sits a leather pack, nearly overflowing with supplies. Serianis tilts his head, fins flaring up as he sniffs the air. Food, water, parchment… and other unfamiliar smells. Hm… it’ll do.

Slowly, he pulls himself further up, his fur shedding the water easily and making his exit silent. The waiting stryx lifts his head, and Serianis stops, but the large avian’s attention is instead drawn to his rider as voices raise. In one swift motion, the sea-dwelling chiro snags the pack and retreats back below the pier, careful to keep the contents above water as he makes his way to a rocky part of the shoreline to inspect the contents more closely.

Clambering awkwardly onto the rocks and staggering a bit at the ever-disconcerting feeling of walking on land, he sets down his prize and noses the pack open before hooking a claw into the base and turning it upside down, spilling the contents out before him.

Several rolled up pieces of parchment go first, followed by a pair of waterskins, bundles of food, and a number of odds and ends that he doesn’t recognize. The parchments already wither as they land in the pools of water dripping from his fur, and he pays them no mind. He snorts at the waterskins before shoving them aside. The bundles of food he sniffs at carefully, hissing lightly at the lack of fish before pushing it all aside into its own pile.

The trinkets, however… He pokes and noses at one until something clicks and a lid flips up – he jumps back in alarm, fins flaring out as he hisses. But the object makes no show of aggression, merely sits there, open and waiting for his inspection. Creeping back closer, he cautiously looks it over, tilting his head. It’s familiar, he’s seen the like in the hand of many of the people who sail the fishing boats. A small arrow, half red and half white, spans the middle of the round device, around the edge of which are inscribed notches and symbols he cannot understand.

Glancing in the direction of the red arrow, he sees that it points toward the city by the shore. Cocking his head, he shuffles a little bit, before reaching out to nudge the device. It turns, but the arrow seems not to move. Serianis chuffs, and spins it around entirely. It wavers temporarily, before returning to pointing at the settlement. Delighted by this device that will always point him home, he nudges it into the pile with the food.

The next trinket he knows all too well – a knife. He hisses and takes the handle in his mouth, then hurls the object into the water, growling as it disappears beneath the waves. Only once it disappears does he relax, his fur settling on his spine. A couple more things get shoved to the side – something else that is not a blade, but still stings when he pokes it, a pile of rope, some blankets, and an assortment of rattling pieces of carved bone for which he doesn’t know the purpose.

With a quiet churring, he tucks the food back into the pack, followed by the device that will point him home when he is done. Securing the straps as best as he can, he takes the bag into his teeth and turns himself around carefully on the rocks. He lifts his head, looking to the horizon, fins rattling anxiously before he lowers his head and slips into the water, heading out towards the deeper ocean. Though he knows not what he’s looking for, he can only hope to find the creature that has intruded upon his territory and stopped the boats from going out.