Somewhere, a beast roars
Somewhere in Bellacoste, a beast roars. However, it did not sound threatening, much less had any violent intent behind it. To your ears, it sounded... Like a scared creature.
Your ears perk up, moving in the direction of the sound. The rest of your body, however, does not follow the sudden impulse of getting up. You stay at your home, in a plushy couch, listening.
To be honest, you fear getting out of your home. It’s been a while since some kind of disease has spread, along with the crack in the sky. You also did not talk much with other pouflons to know what’s going on. Instead you observed how the swamps reacted.
It was a terrible disease. It affected the land, and everything that touched it, spreading too fast. You watched it with some kind of fascination, when, sometimes, a Pippet contaminated with corruption walked around. You didn’t do much about it, besides hide in your house and hope none of this infected you, as well.
You still got curious. Because, sometimes, a howl like this happened. And… you knew this couldn’t possibly belong to a pippet. It was something bigger, vicious, violent.
This howl… Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you. Whatever the cry belonged to, it sounded so… Lonely. It makes you feel aching. You feel sad, you feel everything at once, and you hate it.
Before you could stop yourself, you were exiting your house. You listen to the sound of your feet squelching the damp ground of the marshes. Sometimes, you have to stop to listen to the howl again, to follow its sound until you find the source.
Ah, there it was. Hidden between a bunch of bushes and trees, a scrunched up form. A black and red creature, truly incomprehensible. Much bigger than a pippet, and anything that you’ve previously encountered afflicted with this before. Your face quickly turned into a grimace, as you realized: this is pouflon.
Or…. At least it looked a lot like one. You weren’t quite sure.
Your muscles tensed. The creature, however, if it noticed your presence, didn’t act on it. They now mumbled.
You still felt weird about it. A feeling that didn’t have a name, or that you just didn’t know how to name it, perhaps. Overwhelmed with emotions. This shouldn’t happen, not even to a pippet, not even to a pouflon.
Maybe it could be cured? You didn’t know much of magic or healing, but maybe it could work, just like the potions you often brewed.
You try anyway.
It takes a few tries, until the darkness recedes, revealing a very scared pouflon, with a yellow, almost orange coat.
“Where… Where am I?” A masculine voice asks, blinking once, twice. He looks around, but ultimately, his eyes stop at you.
“In Marshgrave.” You tell him. “What’s your name?”
“I….” The pouflon chokes. “Sundrop.”
Sunny, then. You nod, and quickly ask: “Can you walk? We should get inside before it gets dark.”
Sundrop doesn’t say much more. Instead, He gets up, perhaps a bit too quickly. Blinks, and then looks back at you.
You take that as a sign that it’s okay, and lead the pouflon into your home.