[ the slaying of monsters wasn’t the first thing castiel had in mind when he accepted a finely crafted spear from the guardians of the woods and entered the hunting grounds. There’s plenty enough of that back home for him, and others here seem to have it well in hand. Moreso, he’d wanted to explore, catch a glimpse of these new and fantastical creatures in their mystifying, foreboding habitat.
So, like a horror safari.
Moving at a slow, silent pace through the trees and foliage, cas is able to watch a herd of fisceime from a distance for a time, until the raucous crack and slam of a torcainse up-rooting a nearby tree scatters them.
Later, when Cas finds an outcropping of boulders to settle himself onto and simply wait for local wildlife to wander by, a cyfaill comes to investigate him, buzzing happily around his head, landing on a shoulder, and scampering down over his arm and onto a hand. Not even allowing a breath to stir him, Cas does his best impression of an indifferent fern, letting the insect toddle around, leaving a bit of its sugary, green goo behind, before it flutters off. Of course, with the sweet scent of it and honey-like consistency, the angel has a taste of it.
The happy, floating high it leaves him with is perhaps not the best state for being alone in a dangerous, predator infested wood. When he lastly stumbles on a deeply hibernating dreunania, and takes to plucking some flowers and herbs, the gealaci kucing stalking him from tree branches above, goes entirely unnoticed. ]
OPEN; nocwich hunting
So, like a horror safari.
Moving at a slow, silent pace through the trees and foliage, cas is able to watch a herd of fisceime from a distance for a time, until the raucous crack and slam of a torcainse up-rooting a nearby tree scatters them.
Later, when Cas finds an outcropping of boulders to settle himself onto and simply wait for local wildlife to wander by, a cyfaill comes to investigate him, buzzing happily around his head, landing on a shoulder, and scampering down over his arm and onto a hand. Not even allowing a breath to stir him, Cas does his best impression of an indifferent fern, letting the insect toddle around, leaving a bit of its sugary, green goo behind, before it flutters off. Of course, with the sweet scent of it and honey-like consistency, the angel has a taste of it.
The happy, floating high it leaves him with is perhaps not the best state for being alone in a dangerous, predator infested wood. When he lastly stumbles on a deeply hibernating dreunania, and takes to plucking some flowers and herbs, the gealaci kucing stalking him from tree branches above, goes entirely unnoticed. ]