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Miles from the souther borders of the Deep Woods, the devastation of the northern portion was in a fairly similar state: Shambles. All the creeks had turned to rivers, and the already existing rivers had become swollen and white with rapids. branches, needles, and leaves littered everything, and the ground plants that were much needed by the Wildtype Medic were scant in both looks and supply.

"Thees one good?" came the small voice of a dark chirop as it dropped a couple of limp dandelions on the soggy branch that the Medic was plucking moss from. Their sorry, yellow heads shone a dark, murky green in the darkness, but their scent was unmistakable.

"Mmhmm, well done, Glaz!" cooed the Sentinel as sh shuffled closer to the plant and inspected in further. She gave it a few ginger pecks before she deposited it in the very tiny, worn-out sack that was slung across her chest.

She looked back at the eager chirop. "Now I want you to fetch me some of the Usnea just over there -- yes, that whispy moss stuff on those thin twigs." She extended a wing in the moss's general direction, and the companion took off immediately back into the silky air, gray from its mix of night and ever faint moonlight.


(( perhaps Glaz -- the chirop -- could run into one of Odd's chirops, and then doodidoo, Sentinel run-in? your choice; hope I didn't make it hard to reply to x_x ))

The young chirop actually saw the other companion before he registered the squeaking, and nearly back-pedaled because of it all. Was it a ghost?! Oh he knew that the northern woods were a queer place, he had even told the Medic so! But a ghost, a ghost chirop was right there in front of him and clambering all up in the Usnea that he had to fetch.

He made a tight loop around the back of the branch the moss and ghost chirop were on, and then did what he always did when in trouble: darted back in the direction of his Medic all the while shouting "GHOST GHOST GHOST."

Glaz heard the "ghost's" cries, but he kept going and didn't dare to look back. When he finally flew into the back of the Wildtype and latched onto the russet feathers, he continued to yell "BEETLE GHOST BEETLE GHOST." The whole ordeal rather startled the Medic for a moment.

"Glaz, what in the name of the Woods are so uppity about?" the Medic questioned in a tone that was on the complete opposite side of the spectrum in regards to the chirop's; calm and soft versus scattered and loud. She rotated her head to view her back and the dark lump that clung there.

When she saw no physical damage, she glanced up in the direction the companion had come, and there she saw the chubby white chirop as it continued to come closer.

She repositioned her head and then turned her body 'round on the branch, her head cocked to the side in both amusing curiosity and understanding.

The Wildtype recoiled her neck for a moment in surprise before she gave quite a laugh at the pale chirop's commands.

"Oh, my Dear," she began, and continued to call out to the white critter with a definite chuckle in her voice, "you need no worry towards me; I save myself for serpes, not fine little chirop's such as you." She laughed again, genuinely. In fact, she didn't eat companions at all -- save for a few Skurri perhaps -- but the bleakness of the night caused her to feel the need to have a little fun.

Glaz, on the other hand, thought the whole ordeal was nothing even close to "fun" and continued to cling to the Medic's back, refusing to look at the "Beetle Ghost" as his master called to it again.

"Come here, Dear. No fear, no fear."

Glaz kept stock still amongst the cinnamon feathers of the Sentinel. He certainly didn't care what the other companion said -- GHOSTS WERE KNOWN FOR LYING and he wasn't sayin' a word.

The Medic, on the other hand, continued her chatter with the bleached critter.

"All gone down?" she cocked her head to the side in some confusion. "I'm not sure what that means, but there are no serpes around here that you need to worry about, Dear. No fear." A new, gentle laughter chortled from her throat and she righted her skull.

"Now come on, Deary, and show my little Chirop that you're not some 'ghost', for I don't think he believes you." The Medic beckoned Beetle to her with an extended wing and a flick of her primaries.

The Wildtype nodded almost eagerly as the pale Chirop further tried to explain himself to the dark, furry lump on her back. "See, Glaz," the Medic began as she turned her head around to look at him, "he's not a ghost -- just a white version of you."

The ashen chirop wibbled out of the Sentinel's feathers a little towards that last remark and focused a single, dark eye on the other companion. "No ghost?" he asked, suddenly wanting to confirm it for himself.

The Medic perked her eartufts for a moment. "Oh he is, is he?" she asked, and cocked her head to the side (much to the sudden awkward discomfort to the chirop on her upper back). She had heard of a keeper who bred primarily white chirops, which was something that some-what interested her (honestly, how often does one see a naturally white chirop?).

"Would he mind an unexpected drop-in?" Mallow asked hesitantly after she righted her head and had a moment's thought. She normally wasn't one to be rude and come into somebody's business without invitation, but...

Meanwhile, Glaz decided to skitter down from his Master's back and inch closer to the chatty Beetle Ghost... who said that he wasn't really a ghost even though he really did look like one. ... The whole ordeal still slightly confused the poor charcoal chirop.

Mallow watched the chirop, puzzled and slightly embarrassed because of it. She shifted on the branch and flicked her ear-tufts back, and then forward again. Companions... they were so hard to understand sometimes... most times -- yes, definitely most of the time.

The Medic flickered her golden orbs to Glaz, but the little chirop was only watching the other one -- if he understood what was being explained, he was definitely not showing it. Attention shifted back to Beetle.

"If it's a hassle, Dear, then don't worry about it. I'm sure I'll run into your Keeper some other day," Mallow stated, slightly sheepishly.