Skill: --- (1/5)

The evening cast across the Vale was almost a thing of normalcy - if one ignored the bizarre conifer with its flickering wreath of "lights." Within its frilly embrace, a great many fireflies cast in festive and eye-catching shades flickered gleefully for any within its range to admire. Beneath its greenery, along its feet, a series of hides were bundled around various shapes, some lumpy and others more flat as they concealed their varying contents.

Tangled within one of the hides, his consciousness burned into the fabric of time without fanfare.

Like the little hell flame he was, his arrival was at first subtle; his diminutive form was hidden from the winter wind by a stifling pelt. Its smooth interior rumpled over him, protecting him just as much as it hindered his movement. When his beady eyes opened, the hellion was greeted by darkness - and he didn't like darkness.

The gosling flailed his bony, near-featherless wings in righteous anger as he fought his faceless bonds. His motions were accompanied with enraged honks, an almost unending note that rose in volume with each moment he spent confined to the dusk of his prison.

Skill:

---

The evening was silent.

There was a heaviness that surrounded Tiberii as she moved, despite the softness of the air and the playfulness of the flurries of snow that danced around her. It was a strange dichotomy — her stillness and heft meshing with the colorful flurry of delicate, dancing squalls.

But with a suddenness, she was drawn ... almost in an extracorporeal way, for she did not even notice the shift in the directionality of her paws. It was with an empty mind that she strode, unwillingly moving toward the base of a glittering tree. Her citrine eyes would dance, poking at the stoic exterior and softening her lips into a smile as she made her way through the snow toward the tree's base ... where a bundle of furs sat rather innocently.

Tiberii's nostrils flared.

Slowly ... slowly ... she she would lower her head toward the pile, noting the way in which it wiggled and moved. It was almost as if something ... was ... inside of it? It was hard to tell, but there was the soft richness of earth mixing with the cool crisp of snow.

And then it honked.

It honked and honked and did not stop.

Tiberii's eyes widened, her head shifting back a few inches as the small avian erupted from beneath the supply of goods. The little thing was half stuck, and despite the relentless noise, Tiberii would gently take her jaws to remove part of the pelt from his tiny little head, revealing the goose to the world for the first time.

She blinked, making very intentful eye contact.

---

SKILL : - - - ( 1 / 5 )

His efforts worked.

The heavens were opening up for him, delivering him their light - or perhaps it was the gates of hell beckoning him back for the safety of this world he'd been thrust into. Whichever it was scarcely mattered, he felt the triumph of forcing the world to do his bidding as the pelt was lifted up and away from his small body.

Just as quickly as the light spilled in, he was presented with a dark face crafted from what he was sure was the purest of onyx and quartz, had he known what such things were. This face looked down upon him with an intense gaze, their - her - eyes the color citrine.

His honking ceased, allowing silence to span within the clearing for a handful of moments, as he stared up at his rescuer. His mother.

It was an instinct that roared to life in every fiber of his consciousness - she was his mother and there was nothing to disrupt the idea as he shoved the rest of the pelt away and clambered away from it. There was no one and no thing that could convince him that he was not of her kin, not even his lack of paws but possession of a beak.

The gosling gave a series of honks that were laced with far less rage and much more affection as he flapped useless wings and skittered onto one of her large paws, rubbing his beak against her.

Skill:

---

For a few moments, it was quiet.

They looked at each other.

Wolf and goose. Goose and wolf.

Those beady little eyes were unwavering and unblinking. And Tiberii, for a few moments, felt like she was being scanned, as if those eyes could peer past her own and look deeper — how far was that goose looking? And what would he see?

Tiberii would blink as the honking once again broke the silence, the small little bird scuttling from the nest of treasures to compress its downy body into her forelimbs. Those little wings would flap, so tiny and precious and delicate, and Tiberii felt something inside of her melt. Of course, Tiberii didn't speak bird, but she certainly could relate to the power of the honk. And something about this little gosling, nested so sweetly beneath this tree of lights, seemed like it was meant for her.

A gift.

Oi, 'ello there little one, she said, finally speaking before taking a gentle paw to bring the gosling gently nearer. S'alright, she'd tell him, hoping to calm some of his fervor and flapping. What're ya doin' out 'ere, eh? She smiled before quickly stifling.

Her gaze would peer upward, wondering if anyone was around.

She was talking ... to a bird.

Was she expecting him to talk back or something?
Was she losing her mind?

---