((Llarke Thistle/Lazarus Thelvario, briefly fenling form then human. This is to be scooted over to the Vast Plains!))
Llarke had been in the middle of a fine bout of romping about in the fields when it had come. His day was peachy before it had come, there were no signs of Imperials coming after him, no beasts hunting him down and no poachers after his precious tails. It was a nice, fine day! And now this. This! Was happening! Why did things always have to happen and make the day go sour?
The fenling pushed himself up onto his hind legs, his body shifting and growing into that of a human-- save for a pearl rested in the middle of his forehead. He was already clothed, and his hair changed swiftly from the silvery hue that made up his fur to the dark brown he'd enchanted it to be in human form. His attire was not all that impressive; naught but trousers, leather boots, a blue button-down shirt, suspenders, leather bracers, and a pair of goggles with mismatched lenses. If anything, he looked gooky. But that was no matter! What the matter was, was this blasted MIST. MIST!!!
Pressing his hands to his knees, Llarke peered down at the mist near his feet, then lifted his head to scan the horizon. Yep, mist as far as he could see, peeking out of the tall grass of the plains. His eyes narrowed, nose scrunching up in concentration. What, pray tell, in tarnation?
