Oh.... Is this your castle? (Silvertongue!)

[Klezmer Gryphon]

(( @Silvertongue ))

Rain was nothing new to Shamgar. It was just another part of nature, another thing that came and went whenever Fate decided. That didn't make it any less tolerable for the gryphon as his paws and talons trudged through the muddy trail of the mountain path. Thick sheets of water pouring down kept him confined to the ground, each drop that impacted his wings adding just that much more time he'd have to spend  preening and drying his plumage before he'd be airworthy again.

Visibility was nil to none that night. The moon was hiding behind a thick sheet of clouds and the downpour made it seem the world at the moment was wearing a veil to hide itself from him; the only light Shamgar had was the occasional flicker of lightning in the night. The gryphon began to regret not listening to the innkeeper when she said there'd be a bad storm within the next few days, because she was more than right about that. Regardless of how stupid he felt, staying out in the deluge was not an option...

"But where am I going to fi-" he started to wonder, when his talon hit something. Something that felt like a wall. Blink a few times, Shamgar felt around the surface a bit. It was wood! It's a door! he thought. Within seconds he found what felt like a handle, and yanked at it. The sound of old iron hinges groaning confirmed his discovery. The gryphon didn't even care what might be on the other side; the thought of being inside and out of the storm drove him to slip inside and close it behind him.

Shaking the water out of his wings and tail feathers, Shamgar felt the chill of the storm begin to set in. Looking around the structure as much as he could with the poor lighting, he realised one thing immediately: he was in a castle... Or part of a castle, at least. Without any torches or light, there really wasn't a way to tell for sure, even with his sensitive eyes. At least, though, he could make out a few of the furnishings in the chamber: what might have been a couple of tables, a possible fire-pit, and a few old cushions.  Not really concerned about ruining an already ruined décor piece, the gryphon plopped his sopping wet self down on one of the pillows and hoped that he wouldn't wake up with a horrible cold.

[josephalexandre]

The trouble with rain, altough its existence was very much needed in the context of Earth's growth and fertility, was the simple fact that the falling water made both flying and treading the ground equally unpleasant. Rocks and boulders became slippery to touch, and for this reason and more, the business of hunting mountain goats became all the more delicate.
Althaira balanced carefully atop a rockslide, her wings spread out to their fullest as to help maintain her balance and make sure she did not step too heavily onto the treacherous ground; thus possibly causing yet another slide to occur. The last one had proved fatal to a hard-working (she supposed) shepherd, whose body was later found crushed beneath the rocks near the bottom of the hill. It could be said in Althaira's defence that she had not even been near this part of the mountain during that time, but some of the local folks wasn't too fond of the dragon's presence as it was.

Thunder and lightning seemed to applaud her luck catching a young goat between her claws, and carrying its carcass she trotted toward the location in which the entrance to her mountainside home could be found. Behind the weathered old door, what was now the she-dragon's den presented itself as an ancient artifact, proving the existence of a people the tales forgot.
It was, or had been in its prime days a castle most likely inhabited by an order of warriors, or munks perhaps - either of which very much valued beauty, and the perks of high-living. However, now these people were gone. Only Althaira was left to give the place a sense of purpose; something that had been lost so long ago.

The scaled creature strode past the gryphon as she entered, bringing her prey to be put down beside the fireplace while she'd lit the wood ablaze. The nearby torches and also the lamps were soon given the same treatment; each glowing more brightly than before within a few minutes. She turned again toward the lifeless goat, seeing, but not instantly registering the heap of feathers resting among the pillows as a living, breathing creature.
Truly it could just as well have been a pillow in itself, or a worn-out shawl akin to what noble ladies sometimes used. The place was littered with amusing details like that; broken, battered and left behind by past residents who'd since fell off the face of the Earth.

Althaira sat down a few feet away from the open furnance, her back towards the mythical "bird" while starting to prepare her dinner. When she got done, there would be a nice roasted steak with some vegetables, but as for right now, it was simply a mess on the floor.

[Klezmer Gryphon]

Shamgar wasn't sure how long he had been asleep among the pillows. Could have been a few minutes, might have been a few hours. When he felt warmth of fire penetrating his feathers and the light of the flames filtering through his eyelids, the grogginess in his brain wanted to dismiss it as a dream. Only... It wasn't a dream.

It took a moment for the gryphon's sleep laden eyes to adjust. A moment of blinking slowly brought to his attention all the details of the room. Indeed, there were now lit lanterns and candles where it had once been dark and, he was curled up on an old cushion. As he gazed around the large room, Shamgar was enamoured by the faded, ancient grandeur of the place... And then his eyes drifted towards the fireplace...

Silhouetted against the yellow light of the fire was a form he feared more than anything after the violent breakup with his girlfriend: a dragon.

The shrill scream of the panicked gryphon was louder than the boom of a cannon. Shamgar could feel his heart beating faster and faster with fear and adrenaline. And yet that same fear kept him glued to the pillow, quivering with terror.

[josephalexandre]

(My muse spent a nice holiday at the Bahamas without me, thank you. *Sigh* But it returned with the fierce winter wind, so here I am)


The gryphon's fear would be understood quite easily by the local mountaineers, and the valley folk down below, had any of them come upon Althaira's immense profile twisted so grotesquely by the wavering light, and hunched diabolically over the bloodied carcass by her feet. Her sharp claws and teeth beheaded the poor creature with little trouble at all, and effectively peeled off its skin; which were then shuffled into a corner to be saved for later use.

While the meat was heating above the open fire, the dragon pushed aside a loose segment covering a gap in the stone floor, in which was stored the evidence of her diet being supplemented at times by herbs and vegetables given her in gratitude by simple farmers whose fields was threatened by famine and invasive species - such as wild boars, which she eagerly hunted.
It was true the shepherds guarding their semi-domesticated goats still despised her, but down the valley their relatives owed much to the mythical beast residing the mountain.

The loud noise startling her, Althaira spun around to face the creature whose uncontrollable panic betrayed him to the very beast he feared so much. Her nostrils wide open, a puff of smoke escaped quite accidentally as she stood eye-to-eye with the intruder, ready to defend her home and her life against ----- a rather miserable looking enemy, he was. True, he had formidable claws as well as she, but the fear in his eyes calmed down her defensive instincts. She watched him unblinkingly, a rather bewildered look was upon her scaley features when she took in the scent of gryphon; helping her identify her unexpected guest as something the likes of which were as respectable as they were uncommon (particularly around the immediate area, though she never encountered a great number of gryphons in total)

"I am not going to hurt you," Althaira spoke at last, her voice calm and reassuring now that the initial surprise had worn off a bit. She had no reason to, notwithstanding the fact that he was technically trespassing; which was of course terribly rude and uncivilized, and had she been a different dragon she might have found it hard to forgive. The boundaries of one's personal space was somewhat sacred, after all. However, given her experience with the howling storm outside, the she-dragon could hardly fault him for seeking shelter where it could be found.

"It is warmer near the fireplace," she proposed, gently stepping aside as to allow him to pass, should he choose to accept her offer of a more favorable spot near the fire. "Dinner will be ready soon, if you care to share a bite with me. You don't have any trouble with goat, I hope?"