Welcome to Gaia! ::

Bestwile is a strange mysterious place shrouded in magical energies. It is a jungle within a dessert. Its existence proves powerful magic to be afoot, although many believe it to be a cursed place. As such, a few of the followers of the dark and mundane arts have settled here and erected a large abbey and an almost cult like community. Beneath the abbey lies a temple only spoken of in stories; as those that have seen it have either disappeared or been known to have perished under mysterious circumstances. Some of the followers have left this place and gone out into the world, this is how the knowledge of this place is found. A small underground network of tunnels have since appeared in the southern part of the jungle that are said to lead to a subterranean dwelling deep beneath the jungle where strange creatures lurk. this place is like a city its self with a bustling community of inhabitants.

Main areas: Sacrificial temple , Abbey, Jungle.

With an almost startled noise strangled out in her throat the young lady awoke and scrambled about. Her mind seemed lost in a daze as the body it was a part of spasmed until rightly placed upon sure unshod feet. Crimson eyes looked about sporadically as calloused hands shoved away at limp strands of ebony. A ruffle of dark wings and errent feathers drifted down almost melodicolly towards the moss-covered ground.

There was something about waking in the forest at sun-up that should have been soothing...

She shuddered, wondering why she wasn't better dressed. After all... with the traveling she'd been doing since she'd gotten from the port one would assume she'd find time to invest in traveler's wear. But that would assume she had money. A cold heartless laugh of a sound escaped her lips before she began to gather the Tientya and wrap it in a fold of dark velvet. At least the instrument would be well-dressed.

A short stretch later and a terribly large yawn overtook her subtle frame and she shoved the knuckles of a fist to her mouth, ending the yawn itself with a strange little squeak of a sound. Well... it might be a good day after all... and amid that thought a loud growling grumble was heard and she blinked wide-eyed at her stomach. Yes, it might be a good day... if she could just find a way to breakfast.

With a heavy sigh she began to pick her way through the forest once more, deep churning pits of fire squinting through the bronze rays of warm blinding sunlight. Another growl from her midsection and her knuckles pushed into her stomach and twisted, offering pressure to the complaining ache that told her just how hungry she really was.

Dark wings folded atop her back as she looked about. Perhaps it had been daft of her to let her curiosity drag her 'cross that accursed dessert. Her frown twisted into a disapproving scowl. Just where she'd lost her weapon was still unknown to her, nor the timing of said losing had taken place .Yes... daft... that was the proper word for her impetuous actions.

It's funny how the chain of hunger seems to connect... There was the young-looking winged woman, crouching low and quietly as her crimson eyes fell upon a young rabbit... and, not all but half a score of paces downwind crouched a large feline, just about ready to catch itself its own breakfast!

Silently Israphelle, for that was the winged woman's name, shifted her weight and bit at her lip. there would still be the problem of how to eat the rabbit, if she did catch it... but that was a thought she shoved far from her meticulous mind.

Indeed, she was so focused upon that task at hand that she didn't notice the beast behind yonder that tensed its muscles, making ready for the attack. Coilded and tense tendons and sinew snapped out and in a bound quite like a spring being released it was a moment away from sinking claws and fangs into a nice, warm meal...

A silent attack could have easily gone by unnoticed, but not the scuffle that errupted behind her. With noisy movements she spun about, a clawed hand lifting as though in a defensive way as crimson eyes took in the scene. The beast seemed nearly as hungry as she, for it was getting bloodlust. A shudder traced through her wings as she felt her unshod feet carry her a few paces back. Her gaze fixated upon this other for a moment before a subtly soft sound of a scurrying critter made a dark and vile oath pass her lips. There ran breakfast.

A strangely strong sense of dissapointment boiled beneath her calm exterior as a twinge of cold washed through her from the tiny dark pinpoint mark upon the back of her right wrist. A quick glance and there was no denying it... the ragged black fire of the mark seemed to twist and grow slowly, forming a strange sort of circle about her wrist. A soft grunt escaped her lips... there really wasn't much she could do... not with how she'd lost her weapon and her sense of sanity all within the past day. Well... she thought it was the past day.

Either way the facts still remained. She hadn't any weapon, and she still didn't know whether she was being saved or being thrown from the frying pan into the fire. Best not to take any chances she turned and found herself climbing the closest worthy tree, scrambling her way until she felt relitively 'safe'--all things considered.

Israphelle let deep churning eyes flash over to where the predator had run off to before they fell back upon the creature that had defended her. Dark wings ruffled lightly and she raised a brow, a quirky expression crossing her strong features as she looked to where the rabbit had been before the sudden outburst of action. Her frown once more crossed the line into the bounds of a scowl. "Yeah... it sure is...."

Another gurgling growl escaped her stomach and she winced softly, letting her attention return once more to her 'rescuer'. Still, she didn't move from her perch in the tree, the stips of cloth that made the strange skirt and the tattered remains of a gray shirt revealed almost more than it hid of her slender curves, though she seemed unaware of her adult body, her attention upon nothing more than the matter at hand. "...though would I be out of line to ask who you are?"

She paused and took a light sniff of the air, deep crimson eyes narrowing thoughtfully before her hand rose to cover the lower half of her face. Her voice, muffled by the calloused golden-brown digits, was just barely audible and highly informative. "Your arm's bleeding."

After a moment she swung down with her free hand, much resembling the motions of a deformed monkey. Her wings ruffled, but were portrayed as immoble as she held them firmly folded. The last thing she needed was the useless limbs to make her slip and break her neck. She landed in a light stumble, but otherwise managed to come down mostly standing. Her hand still covered her mouth and nose, as though the smell upset her. "...and you may."

A delicately dark eyebrow rose in sudden quiery as raven-colored wings ruffled upon her back, her eyes questioningly looking to the article of cloth. There was the semblence of thought passing through those deep eyes as she lowered her hand from her face. The scent of blood was cut cleanly and not quite so overpowering to her sensitive nose, and it was just enough so that she could feel the twist of her insides loosing itself until she was just a little bit more comfortable. Her eyes still staring at the cload questioningly she finally gave in and asked, "And what am I to do with that?"

As if her body was to make a point of the question her wings ruffled once more, a few errent ebony feathers drifting through the air and towards the ground.