Miersck had been traveling for too many days and was exhausted, crabby and wanting nothing more than a bite to eat. He normally traveled by foot, and wished he could actually use his wings, but decided against it because he was in unknown territory with craggy rocks jutting out from green hill sides, that cast the land in foreboding shadows as the sun began to wane over head.
He would have preferred to travel by night, as his senses were more acute, but found it increasingly difficult the deeper he found lost in these unknown lands.
A river was nearby, that he could hear, so perhaps his stomach would at least settle for a drink as he made his way pass a large crop of rocks. On the other side, tall grasses and trees lined the edge of a slope that lead downwards into the open mouth of a shallow, but wide stream.
Shuffling beneath his hooded cloak, which was worn loose across his body and hung low over his eyes, hiding all features of his face, from the golden-reds of his eyes, to the unique, pointy-ness of his ears. It also hid the more angular look to his eyes, the point to his chin, and, more suspiciously so, the lump against his back, which is where his wings remained, crumpled uncomfortably against his backside. Once adjusted, he moved onward.
He knew the dangers of his kind, which were said, in these lands, to be extinct. Though, he was thankful no one was around when he approached the water, he got to his knees in the cool, shallow watersa nd began scooping it into his mouth. Cool, and refreshing. As much as he despised water, it sure hit the spot and he fished for a gourd inside his cloak and dipped it into the waters, re-filling it so he'd have some supply for his trip.
Where was he going? He hadn't a clue, but figured as far away from the death and decay of the ancient forest. Though this area lacked alot of the density of the trees from his home, he was thankful the stupid beings here hadn't cut down all of the good trees, but most of the trees here appeared centuries younger than the ones he was familiar with from home.
Rising, he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and scouted the area.
He needed something to eat, and spotted a patch of red berries on the other side of the stream. Then he looked down at the water. His two feet were only in it, inches deep, but even still, he wrinkled his nose. He wasn't about to cross on foot. Who knew how deep the water went, and you might not undersatnd it, but it was the MOSt uncomfortable feeling for a moth fae when their hair and wings got wet. The powder made them impossibly heavy and sticky... and well, gross.
It was one reason he'd rather not take his chances on the water and searched around for another way to pass. Spotting a fallen log, he approached and nimbly began to walk across it, only to find his bare feet slipping when a spot of moss and algae had slicked it's surface as he was crossing the middle of the wide stream.
Miersck cursed as he caught him, but the log began to roll gently back and forth in the water, threatening to knock the moth fae into the waters beneath. Swallowing, he stared at the waters while the log settled back into a more dormant state and wilted with a sigh.
"Stupid, decaying old log," he grumbled and slowly pushed himself to his feet where his red eyes went to the berries on the other side. "Those berries better be delicious." His stomach growled, hoping the same and he grimaced, clutching onto it.
Well, he was already half way there, might as well keep going, and this time, he moved more cautiously, yet despite his efforts, something popped out of a hole in the logs side and hissed angrily as a black snack went snapping towards him.
"Holy rotten acorns!" the moth fae shouted, taken off guard as he stumbled away just in time to watch the snake miraculously sail pass him, inches from his body, just as his own body, weighted down by his cloak and wings, began to tip over backwards. His red eyes went wide as he began to fall, cursing to every known seed and berry he knew before plummeting into the waters.
A moment later he was sputtering and splashing loudly about. He was also colorfully displaying his great distaste and comforts in the waters, which, were of course, just deep enough that he couldn't stand and he kept bubbling about, slipping under the water's surface now and again, but when his bare feet touched the muddy body, he'd desperately push himself back to the surface, gasp and gargle for air, sputtering out watera nd flappign his arms uselessly about-
Yes, he despised water so much he had never learned to swim, but it didn't help that his wings now felt like cement upon his back, his cloak, even heavier from soaking up all the stupid, chilly mountain waters as he flailed around like an idiotic fish-
It was only then he noticed the black snake was slithering towards him across the waters surface, before he garbled and sank back into the waters. When he resurfaced again, the thign was nearly upon him.
Quick thinking had him snatching onto a nearby thick, floating stick, which he grabbed onto desperately and thrust at the snack, striking it into the air and out of the water. miersck only stared at it in wide eyed disbelief that he could have done such a thing as the snake took flight, and landed into a heap int he marsh lands. But a second later the moth fae found himself bubbling back under the water, angrily flapping about once again and the pathetic attempt to shout while he was sinking went into a vicious cycle until something floated nearby that he desperately latched onto.
Another log? His hair bristled, as he dragged half of himself onto it and collapsed, panting, upset, and sopping wet. He lay there for a moment, his cheek resting against the rotten log as he groaned.
Well, at least now he wouldn't drown...
but that didn't fix his current predicament...
Because, well, he was still stuck in the water,and had to deal with his stupid wings, which were now like led weights upon his back.
"Ancient Mother of the Forest," he muttered, "How I hate water."
