Where the whippoorwill is, a lanky giant woman is not far behind. Looming at over six-foot-eight, the tiny bird appears even smaller in her gloved hands. More seem to gather around her, perched on her shoulder or fluttering nearby before visiting the temples and other places. While to others it would sound like nothing more than the birdsong of a foreign species, Ravine has tilted her head towards the melodies tweets as if understanding some underlying message beneath the mystery presented here.
"You are a long way from home, my small friend," she speaks to the bird. A pause, as if she's just heard a muted reply. "Ah, yes, I understand..." She smiles down at the small bird huddled inside her cupped hands, feathers ruffled and black beady eyes bearing up at her. With another melodious chirp, the whippoorwill flaps its little wings and vanishes into some trees, a silent wind carrying threads of her long black hair over her collared neck. She brushes a strand behind her ear with a faint smile. "There are some who see them as omens of death. Perhaps they simply wanted to flee from that, if only for a while."
It is just conjecture, of course, but she tends to have such opinions on good authority.
II. Wildcard
[ooc: Want to catch a freakishly tall death god wandering around at night? Think it's time to meet your maker or something? Don't worry, she just likes to listen. That's not creepy at all.]
Ravine | Original | God
Where the whippoorwill is, a lanky giant woman is not far behind. Looming at over six-foot-eight, the tiny bird appears even smaller in her gloved hands. More seem to gather around her, perched on her shoulder or fluttering nearby before visiting the temples and other places. While to others it would sound like nothing more than the birdsong of a foreign species, Ravine has tilted her head towards the melodies tweets as if understanding some underlying message beneath the mystery presented here.
"You are a long way from home, my small friend," she speaks to the bird. A pause, as if she's just heard a muted reply. "Ah, yes, I understand..." She smiles down at the small bird huddled inside her cupped hands, feathers ruffled and black beady eyes bearing up at her. With another melodious chirp, the whippoorwill flaps its little wings and vanishes into some trees, a silent wind carrying threads of her long black hair over her collared neck. She brushes a strand behind her ear with a faint smile. "There are some who see them as omens of death. Perhaps they simply wanted to flee from that, if only for a while."
It is just conjecture, of course, but she tends to have such opinions on good authority.
II. Wildcard
[ooc: Want to catch a freakishly tall death god wandering around at night? Think it's time to meet your maker or something? Don't worry, she just likes to listen. That's not creepy at all.]