The Honorable who handles her branding is gentle. Initially they fuss a bit over just where to brand. It's clear to them that the new Honorable about to be granted the 'Fires of Inspriation' is young at heart, younger than typical, and that sort of thing never goes well with pain. She's watched many of the others receive their marks- through grit teeth, through screams, through cries, all of it the stuff of bad dreams and small nightmares certainly.
But Reira hobbles- her wings more like crutches, her legs not wanting to move any proper direction- straight for the pool, right for the spot in front of the Honorable, and gets ready. It's clear to them that the brand can't go on the wings- they fold up too greatly while on the ground, and no one would ever see. Perhaps the ears, but that would be especially small and-
And politely the Honorable decides to ask just where would be alright from a small list of choices, perhaps taking in a deep and long breath when the answer is 'back'.
The brand is applied, and Reira doesn't even flinch. It isn't until the iron is removed, and the girl is looking back to the Honorable to look them over- spotting a similar mark upon themselves, much to their relief- that she even allows herself to sniffle, asking about where they go now, and if it always hurt.
Anyone watching is probably wondering if the Honorable is going to just melt or disolve into little tears, the way they gently handle the tiny bat and console them before helping them into the pool to recover.
'We'll help you out once you're cooled down, so that you can find your way to the communal homes, alright?' they assure her, and for the time being Reira is to simply cling to the edge of the pool with her odd thumbs while her back soaks.
It's hard for her to see, from here. She peeks out and about at everyone else, speaking only when someone is near.
"...mnh...a..." It's hard to ask things you know the answer to, but... "...are you ok..."
[LATE EVENING 79 | In the Communal Dwellings]
In the housing building she's at, darkness has only begun to settle in. It is unnerving, to see so much, so different, right now. She is tiny, and small, and even things the size of cats are enormous in her eyes- let alone such beings as wolves, or bears, and beyond.
But Reira sniffs, and fumbles in the darkness, nested in some fabrics and things and peering about the area with wide eyes. "H'llo..?" She doesn't 'know' anyone here. Not technically, and perhaps even not really- she doesn't know who else went into this building after all, and she can't see.
But she swears her voice returns to her, practically painting a picture of what is where in the room. "..Who's there..?" she manages eventually, her squeaking still ringing in her ears.
[DAY 80 | Learning to Bat]
In the morning, breakfast is a welcome distraction. Indeed, food doesn't seem to be a huge deal here- she's not hungry, not at all- but the taste is a good distraction, and her teeth shear into a grape almost as large as her head with ease.
Unfortunately she cannot walk and eat, so she's long since finished the fruit by the time she makes her way outward.
Walking is a pain. Eventually it looks a bit like someone trying to hop with crutches- arms forward, propelling the rest of her along, her legs barely moving while on and off the ground. But walking can't be the only thing she does. She knows it can't be, and yet for all that she's sure the others have some vauge idea of how to be animals, she doesn't know how to fly AT ALL.
If she'd given that more thought, it'd make sense. She's far too young to be doing anything other than clinging to a mother bat if in the wild. But this isn't the wild, and the late morning of Day 80 Reira can be seen slowly trying to climb up some taller-than-she surface in some vain attempt to try and launch off to learn flight.
"Mngh...nghh... U-umn..!" With trouble, comes asking for help. "Um...can you get me up to the next branch..?" Reira calls out, her voice just as squeaky as one would expect of her size.
[DAY 81 | Names & Art]
"Phannnnu...Phaaaanu...Phhhhhanu..." Reira repeats her new name a few times to try and get it to sound right on her tongue, hopping each step of the way in the same manner she has for the last little bit with her wings. It's a more extreme hop this time however- as she cannot simply vault and swing her legs forward, what with them clutching a few scrap materials tightly with her feet.
Reira moves with dedication- perhaps even mild obsession? It would be rather early to call it that, but she's gathering for herself a significant pile of 'junk', beside which she's gotten some kindly Honorable to leave a card that reads: 'Phanu's Materials'.
If that is to be her name, she must grow as used to it as she has Reira. And surely, that can't be hard. As it is, she adds her scrap to the pile, before slowly disecting the junk to try and stack it in various ways. Even with how miniscule each part is, it appears the task is quite difficult. Two inches doesn't lend much to creating eye-catching pieces, and she needs to make up for that as best she can.
Somehow.
So whether it's the humming mutterings of her own 'name', or even the curious...state of her pile, a pile whose shadow she keeps glancing at, don't mind her, please.
Or maybe do, and ask how long she's been out here.
[WILDCARD | Got another idea? Hit me up with whatever you got!]
REIRA AKABA | OTA
The Honorable who handles her branding is gentle. Initially they fuss a bit over just where to brand. It's clear to them that the new Honorable about to be granted the 'Fires of Inspriation' is young at heart, younger than typical, and that sort of thing never goes well with pain. She's watched many of the others receive their marks- through grit teeth, through screams, through cries, all of it the stuff of bad dreams and small nightmares certainly.
But Reira hobbles- her wings more like crutches, her legs not wanting to move any proper direction- straight for the pool, right for the spot in front of the Honorable, and gets ready. It's clear to them that the brand can't go on the wings- they fold up too greatly while on the ground, and no one would ever see. Perhaps the ears, but that would be especially small and-
And politely the Honorable decides to ask just where would be alright from a small list of choices, perhaps taking in a deep and long breath when the answer is 'back'.
The brand is applied, and Reira doesn't even flinch. It isn't until the iron is removed, and the girl is looking back to the Honorable to look them over- spotting a similar mark upon themselves, much to their relief- that she even allows herself to sniffle, asking about where they go now, and if it always hurt.
Anyone watching is probably wondering if the Honorable is going to just melt or disolve into little tears, the way they gently handle the tiny bat and console them before helping them into the pool to recover.
'We'll help you out once you're cooled down, so that you can find your way to the communal homes, alright?' they assure her, and for the time being Reira is to simply cling to the edge of the pool with her odd thumbs while her back soaks.
It's hard for her to see, from here. She peeks out and about at everyone else, speaking only when someone is near.
"...mnh...a..." It's hard to ask things you know the answer to, but... "...are you ok..."
[LATE EVENING 79 | In the Communal Dwellings]
In the housing building she's at, darkness has only begun to settle in. It is unnerving, to see so much, so different, right now. She is tiny, and small, and even things the size of cats are enormous in her eyes- let alone such beings as wolves, or bears, and beyond.
But Reira sniffs, and fumbles in the darkness, nested in some fabrics and things and peering about the area with wide eyes. "H'llo..?" She doesn't 'know' anyone here. Not technically, and perhaps even not really- she doesn't know who else went into this building after all, and she can't see.
But she swears her voice returns to her, practically painting a picture of what is where in the room. "..Who's there..?" she manages eventually, her squeaking still ringing in her ears.
[DAY 80 | Learning to Bat]
In the morning, breakfast is a welcome distraction. Indeed, food doesn't seem to be a huge deal here- she's not hungry, not at all- but the taste is a good distraction, and her teeth shear into a grape almost as large as her head with ease.
Unfortunately she cannot walk and eat, so she's long since finished the fruit by the time she makes her way outward.
Walking is a pain. Eventually it looks a bit like someone trying to hop with crutches- arms forward, propelling the rest of her along, her legs barely moving while on and off the ground. But walking can't be the only thing she does. She knows it can't be, and yet for all that she's sure the others have some vauge idea of how to be animals, she doesn't know how to fly AT ALL.
If she'd given that more thought, it'd make sense. She's far too young to be doing anything other than clinging to a mother bat if in the wild. But this isn't the wild, and the late morning of Day 80 Reira can be seen slowly trying to climb up some taller-than-she surface in some vain attempt to try and launch off to learn flight.
"Mngh...nghh... U-umn..!" With trouble, comes asking for help. "Um...can you get me up to the next branch..?" Reira calls out, her voice just as squeaky as one would expect of her size.
[DAY 81 | Names & Art]
"Phannnnu...Phaaaanu...Phhhhhanu..." Reira repeats her new name a few times to try and get it to sound right on her tongue, hopping each step of the way in the same manner she has for the last little bit with her wings. It's a more extreme hop this time however- as she cannot simply vault and swing her legs forward, what with them clutching a few scrap materials tightly with her feet.
Reira moves with dedication- perhaps even mild obsession? It would be rather early to call it that, but she's gathering for herself a significant pile of 'junk', beside which she's gotten some kindly Honorable to leave a card that reads: 'Phanu's Materials'.
If that is to be her name, she must grow as used to it as she has Reira. And surely, that can't be hard. As it is, she adds her scrap to the pile, before slowly disecting the junk to try and stack it in various ways. Even with how miniscule each part is, it appears the task is quite difficult. Two inches doesn't lend much to creating eye-catching pieces, and she needs to make up for that as best she can.
Somehow.
So whether it's the humming mutterings of her own 'name', or even the curious...state of her pile, a pile whose shadow she keeps glancing at, don't mind her, please.
Or maybe do, and ask how long she's been out here.
[WILDCARD | Got another idea? Hit me up with whatever you got!]