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About WestCarolina

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    Gold Miner
  • Birthday 03/24/1998

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    Wood Elf

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  1. ʕ·ᴥ·ʔ   Bear Druid Miven go brrr

  2. Deep in savannas past the Eternal Uzg, a heat spell looms over an eccentric wanderer. Though bearing not much shade, Miven finds herself intrigued by the unfamiliar tree up ahead. It was not like the others; bark darker in color, and leaves flakey green in bundles from sparing branches. The mali’ame was hungry from her travels and made the decision to clamber her way up the tree to munch on some leaves. *** Miven reaches into her pocketed robes, retrieving a bushel of berries she stored. Drawn to her face, the berries began to chatter to one another, voices that were somewhat unrecognizable to the dedicant. Their tone was not aggressive, more so soothing and charismatic. Miven blinked a heavy prolonged blink, staring down into her palms with wide amber eyes. “Woah,” she’d mumble lowly, swallowing at the sounds that came from her hand. She was mesmerized. New friends… friends that spoke to her… friends that were berries- BERRIES that spoke to her! Even after snacking on her mixed greens, Miven’s stomach began to rumble an audible growl. Her perplexed guilty expression fell ever so slowly down at her new friends but quickly away as she began to battle her mind. You cannot eat your friends, Miven… but look at them… they look so tasty… The elfess took in a weighted deep breath and groaned as she leaned up from her recumbent orientation. She’d look around, lumbering her way to the stump of the tree she ate from. Her back leaned against its’ trunk and the stimuli began to overwhelm her. Though she was stressed and disoriented at first, the mali’ame steadily went into a state of relaxation; limbs loose, splayed, and vulnerable in a desert well-traveled. *** “What in the Aspects name…” Miven croaked, waking up beside the raell’vulsulin. She’d lift a hand to wipe her cheek from the dirt that caked it while stumbling up into a seated position. It took a few moments for the ‘ame to realize what had happened until she eagerly and with much haste dug her hand into her pocket to only find it empty. Like the curious and confused bear she was, Miven swiveled her head about to find her berries a few feet away displayed in an odd manner; lined up and in order of largest to smallest in size. Brows knit, Miven hesitated when examining the raspberries. They weren’t speaking anymore … but she yearned to hear them again. She rolled her shoulders, releasing the thought and retrieved each raspberry into her mouth. The elfess glanced back up in the direction of the tree, wiping her cheek yet again as she dragged the berry guts across. Golden doe eyes narrowed on the leaves the tree bore. Miven pressed both palms to the ground beside her, lifting to her feet as she scrambled toward the tree. The ‘ames legs hiked around the trunk; she was indeed a natural at climbing. When hoisted up to the head of the smoking tree, Miven’s eager hands collected a handful of leaves, stuffing them into her olive pockets. *** Back in Siramenor, Miven skipped along the paths in search for Awaiti. “She must know about this… the berries spoke to me! Almost like how I heard the moon spirits when I tried that halfling grass!” The boisterous young ‘ame chimed to herself, already retrieving the leaves from her pockets and a youthful raell’vulsulin sapling. ((OOC: I wanted to introduce some of the awesome lore that members of the wood elven community spent hours working on, into the game! I hope you enjoy the little piece of Miven’s high adventures! Ame’lie Rall’vulsulin tree lore credits to the following! @SiramenorGlade @NomadGaia @ThumperJack @JuniperSelkie ))
  3. Miven waved Tanyl farewell and returned her sun-shining visage and characteristically cheeky grin back to her sister. The boisterous mali’ame donned an oversized cuirass, “Do I sport this well? I think I look good!” She’d resound, clearly with a jesting demeanor.
  4. imagine being bhad

    1. LotsOfMuffins


      imagine having a direction in your name

    2. WestCarolina


      imagine being a plethora of pastries @LotsOfMuffins

  5. Congrats @Anore! This was a really good choice and I’m excited to see what Basket will do as a leader in moderation.
  6. Floating. She was floating. But she also seemed to be anchored by her consciousness. Her mind consumed her. Her body sank deeper. With bloodied arms outstretched, legs slightly parted and a face serene and placid, the seemingly motionless Miven would ruminate about the murder she had just committed. The mali’ame plunged both arms into the heavier waters and allowed herself to submerge in the depths of her surroundings. Miven’s eyes fluttered as she sank to the lake's bed. The environment above was surreal; a golden glow beaming on the creatures that wandered aimlessly. Lush green grasses, trees, and vegetation hugged the lake. The water was still until Miven launched herself to the surface, sucking in a desperate, hefty breath of air. She swam over to the edge, hoisted her small body onto the soft grass and crawled some distance. Yet, weary and distraught, her frame eventually collapsed, limbs sprawled in a vulnerable state. The elfess was typically chirpy, vibrant, and vivacious, but it appeared as though her recent actions had sucked that very life out of her. Well versed in hunting, Miven was familiar with the unfortunate deaths of prey. However, this animal was no mere prey item. Rather, it was a cherished companion. Doe-like, round golden orbs pierced the dusk fallen sky as she contemplated her next move. But the girl was not one to dwell. Upon regaining her composure, she prevailed by propelling herself to her feet and went onward to gather herbs and berries. *** Two decades later, Miven had found herself wandering in the same woodlands she had inhabited years ago. The encompassing deciduous forest felt welcoming to the mali’ame. She always had a sense of belonging when she traversed the boscage. The birds greeted her with chirps, sun with its embrace and the canopying trees with its protection. However, her latest trips brought about intense bounds of curiosity. She had witnessed a mother kodiak bear with her two cubs, one of which was obviously injured and feeble. It had a funky skip to its’ walk, limping and applying most of its’ weight to its right side. Miven mostly observed from afar, however, she had made several attempts to approach the cub, only to be guarded off by the aggressive growls feeding from the mother bear's maw. The mother bear lumbered about and neared Miven, warding her off to protect her young. The elfess was not to push her luck, nor wished to upset the mother bear. She retreated back to the village and planned a trip that would last days, perhaps even weeks. *** A satchel draped the shoulders of the woman containing the random medical supplies she could scour from her burrow. Bandages, alcohol, water, a splint of sorts, food -- a lot of food, and only the weapons she had kept on her regularly would come along for the trip back into the woodlands. Miven explained the mission she was about to endure to her sister Medli, and she urged that she come along in case something went awry. After hours of trekking, the two arrived in the general vicinity of the bear's inhabitancy. They hunkered down and watched for hours. There seemed to be no trace of the bear family, until some groaning and crackling of leaves could be heard up ahead. “There-” Miven hushed excitedly, stretching a precautionary arm out to block Medli from continuing forward. With the absence of one of the cubs was left the mother bear and its still injured baby. Miven’s doe-like, growing eyes observed the twos interaction intently. The mother kodiak nudged the cub with its snout, prompting it to lay down. The cub was curious of its familiar surroundings, and mostly the new, faint scent it began to pick up. It obeyed, lowering itself to the grasses. Before pursuing the bears, Miven reached quietly into her satchel for one of the three packed pieces of meat. As the elfess pulled the meat into the air, the mother bear picked up on the strong smell and made way toward Miven. Miven motioned her hand backward in preparation to swing the meat forward but paused. She recognized that the action might frighten the bear. So instead, she met the mother bear half way and placed the meat down quickly before backtracking to her original spot. The kodiak snatched the meat from the ground and huffed, bringing it back to its’ cub. They shared a moment in which the mothers' back was oddly vulnerable to Miven and Medli. The elfess peered over her shoulder to ensure that her sister was safe and then back to stalk the two bears. Now that she was closer to the pair, the ‘ame began to prepare another piece of meat from her parcel. This time her shakier hands crinkled the parchment that wrapped the meat so much so that it alerted the mother bear. The large motherly mammal turned almost instantaneously to the sound of the parchment and bellowed a horrific roar, one that caused the nesting birds to flee from their homes. Miven gulped audibly and listened to the bear's demands. She took many steps backward which appeared to be enough for the mother bear. The bear looked Miven over before returning to its’ cub. The dedicant decided to flank the kodiak, rounding to the cubs side. She presented another piece of red meat between them. The meat disappeared in a matter of seconds. All the while, the bear cub would be whining in both pain and hunger. It stumbled various times as it longed to stand; failing and falling over itself again. “I only wish to help your young. I do not want to hurt you or the little one..” The careful elfess hummed as if the bear could understand. The prepared mali’ame lowered herself to the cub’s level, putting herself in an endangered position. She began to toss through her satchel, pulling out various items and made sure to show each one to the attentively protective mother. Miven’s fingers scanned over the wound, a gash six or so inches long, an inch wide. ‘Poor thing probably fell from somewhere high,’ she thought to herself. The girl then proceeded to palpate the twitching cubs’ left, back thigh feeling for any misplaced bones. Nothing felt out of the ordinary to the mali. Even with her minimal experience in the medical field, she could tell the bone was still intact. “Alcohol, to clean the wound..” She balled a piece of cloth soaked in the alcohol and dabbed at the dried blood. As soon as the alcohol met the cubs’ wound, it yelped, eyes eagerly looking up to its mother. The cub grasped the ground below it, scrambling to get away from Miven. The uproar agitated and alarmed the mother bear. She launched herself closer to Miven, causing the elfess to fall over to her backside with surrendering hands and a second to come up with a plan. “Look, look!” The scatter-brained mali’ame flimsily patted the clean, side of the cloth against her own skin to show that it was safe to use on herself. Heat and the lingering smell of every meal the mother bear ate radiated over Miven’s young, sweaty wood elven features. Miven locked eyes with the mother bear. The mark of Bolomormaa was still painted on her cheeks and forehead from her coming of age celebration. The trust was instilled through the short connection they had just created. Because of the prior actions, Miven was able to escape from under the bear’s wrath. It flicked its head in the direction of her disabled cub, almost as if it granted permission for the ‘ame to finish. This time, Miven worked quicker and used water to clean the dried up blood. The cub was still skeptical, curious at least, shuddering as she began to wrap the healing wound with bandages. Miven lifted her arm to her forehead, wiping away the line of sweat that formed over her brow. All the while, her eyes danced back to Medli ensuring her safety. The elfess fumbled with the splint contraption she had built prior to the trip; two sticks and wraps set up so that over the course of a few weeks, the stabilization would come apart as the bear walked. The mother bear huffed at Miven and began to lumber off. She could not understand why the bear did so, but it evoked Miven. The dedicant finished up her work on the cub and reached back into her open satchel for a hand full of bears and the jar of honey she had packed. A gentle toss of her berry hand sprinkled the fruit about the cubs front. It excitedly groaned, especially when Miven smacked at the bottom side of the honey jar allowing for its slow ooze to coat the ground. The cub lapped at the honey as it wobbled to a stance. It clearly struggled for a moment, adjusting to the contraption attached to its leg. The cub poked its nose at the bandages before becoming easily distracted and pleased again by the honey. Miven rose a tired, uneasy hand into the air and hovered it over the cubs box-like noggin. She held her breath as she lowered it, meeting the bear's softer fur between its’ ears. The cub seemed untroubled and quite frankly unaware of Miven’s caressing, continuing about its treat. With that, the ‘ame felt as though she had done her job to aid the cub back to a place where it could heal -- a place where it did not depend on her any longer, nor would it hinder its’ ability to survive on its own. Medli and Miven left the bear’s home, and headed back for Siramenor. *** Six or so weeks later, Miven returned to the same location on her own in search for the cub. She had no means to interact or interfere with it. Her only intention was to observe how the cub had been doing, and if her contraption had worked. To her blessed surprise, the cub was seen trotting toward a body of rushing water after its mother. The curious Miven followed close behind, yet stayed at a distance only to witness the cub standing strong on a rock, swiping into the water for fish. ((OOC: This is Miven’s grand task for her Druidic dedicancy! Thank you to @Kuila and @searose143 for playing the bears irp. Also @RainbowRoad1234 for the support. I no gud at writin’ so pls be easy on me hehe))
  7. Does anyone else have a problem with that CT, Epistile? Holy crap dude, so annoying sometimes. 

  8. Hi i’m carol (B

    1. Kuila


      hi carol im lumii

    2. WestCarolina


      hi kuila!! 🙂 

  9. Agnes Lowin would hear of the news, a smile donning her features, “Declaration of Independence, da? M’ good friend Adonis must be hard at work.”
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