Post by Hadjara on May 7, 2014 20:04:34 GMT -5
It had been a very, very long time since the last time Hadjara had been alone. She didn’t mind being with others, Gabriel specifically, but after such a long time just engaging with people it was nice to cut herself off and roam the tunnels alone and without any other stimuli. Well, Malak and her familiars aside but since they were joined by mind, and in the case of her familiars by soul as well, it wasn’t exactly the same as being around people for months at a time.
Of course, being alone also meant she hadn’t eaten or slept properly in weeks, despite Malak’s near constant nagging that she should hunt but she never got much sleep anyway and her biology allowed for her to go for months without eating anything if she desired.
For her seclusion, Hadjara had chosen to take up residence in the Daemon Tunnels, deep under the earth of her long favored Marshes. She did occasionally duck up and down between the two, especially whenever she wanted to go for a swim since the water in the Tunnels was too clear for her liking and tasted too much like stone. It was nice, having her old homeland right above her new one and she enjoyed being able to freely explore both. Mostly Hadjara had walked the tunnels, though, wearing only the pelts of wolves around her waist and across her shoulders. Hadjara did her best to stay solid so that her frog Yed could nestle up against her neck and the crocodile Levent could pad along beside her, occasionally butting his snout against her legs as they walked since she knew they found comfort in her physical presence.
But whenever there was something interesting just out of reach, or when her legs felt tired and her stomach too empty Hadjara would take the smoke form gifted to her by the god Tatyarn. She was thankful for it, more than his last one anyway, and it make exploring places that would have otherwise been inaccessible to the slight woman a breeze. She probably looked strange, she thought, curling through the tunnels as a plume of black smoke shot through with silver and green. But unlikely to be the strangest thing down here by far. The tunnels were naturally pitch black with only the brightly colored fungi on the tunnel walls illuminating the caverns and Hadjara’s smoke form caught the light and distorted it, making the colors more brilliant but reflecting at odd angles that made the tunnels look like they twisted off at odd angles, or that there was something much further down. She had spooked a few daemons in her smoke form, quite by accident although she only actually bothered to apologize to one of them. The others had run off too fast.
It was in this form that Hadjara was traveling the tunnels now, keeping an eye out for anything that looked interesting since she was starting to get a bit bored with this whole seclusion thing. Levent was waddling under her, with Yed perched between his eyes and croaking happily. On occasion Hadjara would whisper to them in the shadow language, and Levent would hiss and snap at her in response. They were passing through their current tunnel at a leisurely pace, heedless of the ‘danger’ and ‘turn back’ warnings that had been hastily splashed across the tunnel in the common tongue and the daemon native language in a white paint that glowed faintly in the darkness. Even if Hadjara had been worried, she was illiterate so there wasn’t much of a point wondering what the messages said.
Of course, being alone also meant she hadn’t eaten or slept properly in weeks, despite Malak’s near constant nagging that she should hunt but she never got much sleep anyway and her biology allowed for her to go for months without eating anything if she desired.
For her seclusion, Hadjara had chosen to take up residence in the Daemon Tunnels, deep under the earth of her long favored Marshes. She did occasionally duck up and down between the two, especially whenever she wanted to go for a swim since the water in the Tunnels was too clear for her liking and tasted too much like stone. It was nice, having her old homeland right above her new one and she enjoyed being able to freely explore both. Mostly Hadjara had walked the tunnels, though, wearing only the pelts of wolves around her waist and across her shoulders. Hadjara did her best to stay solid so that her frog Yed could nestle up against her neck and the crocodile Levent could pad along beside her, occasionally butting his snout against her legs as they walked since she knew they found comfort in her physical presence.
But whenever there was something interesting just out of reach, or when her legs felt tired and her stomach too empty Hadjara would take the smoke form gifted to her by the god Tatyarn. She was thankful for it, more than his last one anyway, and it make exploring places that would have otherwise been inaccessible to the slight woman a breeze. She probably looked strange, she thought, curling through the tunnels as a plume of black smoke shot through with silver and green. But unlikely to be the strangest thing down here by far. The tunnels were naturally pitch black with only the brightly colored fungi on the tunnel walls illuminating the caverns and Hadjara’s smoke form caught the light and distorted it, making the colors more brilliant but reflecting at odd angles that made the tunnels look like they twisted off at odd angles, or that there was something much further down. She had spooked a few daemons in her smoke form, quite by accident although she only actually bothered to apologize to one of them. The others had run off too fast.
It was in this form that Hadjara was traveling the tunnels now, keeping an eye out for anything that looked interesting since she was starting to get a bit bored with this whole seclusion thing. Levent was waddling under her, with Yed perched between his eyes and croaking happily. On occasion Hadjara would whisper to them in the shadow language, and Levent would hiss and snap at her in response. They were passing through their current tunnel at a leisurely pace, heedless of the ‘danger’ and ‘turn back’ warnings that had been hastily splashed across the tunnel in the common tongue and the daemon native language in a white paint that glowed faintly in the darkness. Even if Hadjara had been worried, she was illiterate so there wasn’t much of a point wondering what the messages said.