(( Sorry this is being posted so many days after the last post. RE2 is probably the user furthest from being perfect. But I'm posting now because I'm amazing like that. {And I've dedicated myself to this thread, however long it may last} ))
The wombear danced around the pebbles that were thrown at it, very much enjoying this game. One grey pebble caught the wombear right to it's stomach and it fell over, looking dazed. It gasped, the pebble doing more damage to it then it could to the larger dalma. Starring up into the continually darker sky the wombear seemed to relax a little. Enough to think past the usual instinctual stuff, to just... absorb. To others though it would look as if the little creature was dead. Even it's breathing had gone from the quick hyperdrive of an over excited rodent to something slower; calmer.
---
The creature in the hole remained silent. Whether it was listening or had just left all together was not made clear until the fruit bar offering had been made. One moment there was a chunk of fruit bar, the next moment there wasn't. Pretty easy to figure out, with twitchy creatures such as the wombear.
Obviously it had remained near the opening of the hole, but had it listened to what he'd said? Hard to say, whatever was down there made no sound, did not answer any of the questions.
Not to far off an inquisitive wombear face popped up, looking at the man from his right side. It twitched it's head side to side, trying to get the best view he could of the man. The wombear looked young and not as rough as many of the other inhabitants who had lived longer, had suffered more.
From the hole that had stolen the fruit bar popped up a quick flash of wombear that growled and made generally angry noises at the other wombear who quickly disappeared, looking scared. The older wombear glarred at the man and it then seemed suddenly very clear that this was a mother wombear and the other, younger wombear was her child.
---
"Well," it started, shaking nervously, " I hope it's not to rude of me to say, but don't you all have ways to predict weather? And and, usually... Usually somebody here can feel when it's going to rain. And many of the other creatures who pass through the vast plains will also know with your modern technologies,"
The creature continued to speak, faster and faster until it became almost pure gibberish unless you really strained to hear. It stopped then, shaking and looking around.
"It's not all that safe, really. When it rains a very large ammount some of the tunnels flood. That hasn't happened for awhile though," the wombear glanced up quickly, covering it's neck defensively with it's paws before looking back at the sylph, "it seems to me we're due for another and and... Well the clouds are rather... full, looking... anyway,"
---
"What kind of storm is always in a rush?" asked a voice, sounding curious and a little excited at the same time. The voice came from a rather slim looking wombear, maybe one that didn't eat much. He (or She) had an odd, maybe not entirely sane look about them.
---
Timber wondered if she could rein Rayne in. The play on words (or whatever you would call it) forced a smile to the wombears lips, which forced her to bare her fangs. The smile wasn't looking pleasant, though the intent was never meant to be exactly pleasant anyway.
"And what, exactly does a bird like you eat? Did you pack bird seed or something?"
The tone was rude, sharp, meant to inflict pain. Yah, great wombear to make friends with.
