Best Of

In the gentle lull of the Shifting City's ephemeral existence, the voice cuts in and out. Yet rather than dying in consistency, the words remain even as they travel throughout the docks, "...good...good...good...good..."

Cheliyi glances back at you, tense with worry until she slowly relaxes in their embrace.

You have emoted: Gurashi lifts their gaze, feathery ears satelliting forward to listen to the words echoed back from the city. Slowly they smile, squeezing Cheliyi tighter.

You think to yourself: ...the goodliest reality...

You think to yourself: ... * softly, echoed desire - want to be good, yes - need to be good to make the goodliest ... *.

Cheliyi seems no less wary, though she gives you a faint smile. Slowly, she takes their hand, squeezing it with gentle frown.

The words, despite their cheer and conviction, become further and further warped as they continue their wave-like travel throughout the docks, until abruptly -- they die. There is only a sense of unease in the air, an inherent wrongness that you cannot seem to shake.

Cheliyi sits up, positioning herself in front of the trill with a fierce glare.

Something settles in your gut, tipped with iron and laced with the deep chill of ice. Something left over from an age you cannot remember. Fear.

You have emoted: Gurashi looks off beyond the docks, the smile that graced their lips moments before slowly beginning to fade as the palpable unease settles in.

You tilt your head, gaze softening as you frown.

Cheliyi's frills flare, but she stands her ground, vigilant. However, her display of 'strength' only seems to accentuate her small size.

At once, the unease vanishes and becomes focused enough in point that you can place the source. Something has appeared over your shoulder, and the faintest pull of ragged breathing can be heard rattling just over your shoulder.