[KathrynKat]

Rank 4

Username; Rondell
Name; Vulture
Grelifcent ID; Roundup #020
Grelifcent Band; #02
Gender; Stallion
Height; 13.3HH
Kindness Rating; 9
Tails; 3
Generation; Second

Parents;
- [Stallion Unknown] x Mare
Breeding Slots;
- 0/15
Date of last Foal born;
- NA
Current Souls Captured;
- 25
Breeding Slot Reserves;
- NA
Pairings/Breedings;
- NA

Completed Tasks;
- 16
Total Points Collected;
- 16

[Rondell]

Vulture's Quest Log
Everything must be done in order!

Task 1 - Unloading;
Share a story in the unloading from the trailer
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

As I peered into the depths of the trailer, I fought the manic urge to tell the Agency guy to turn around and get lost. 'You've got the wrong address!' I wanted to scream, or maybe 'No, you've picked up the wrong animal, mine was the sweet little buckskin!'. I even considered telling him I'd gone broke and couldn't pay him after all. Something. Anything! Because I'd gotten myself in DEEP with this one, and I wasn't sure I could get out in one piece.

The interior of the trailer was oddly shadowed for such a bright summer day and, worst of all, there was a slight glow. Right in the back. Right where I knew the Grelifcent was lurking... and only Grelifcents that have collected a large number of souls glow. It's a physical display of their power, I guess - a kind of stolen aura. And I wanted nothing to do with it!

Unfortunately, before I could open my mouth, I heard the door of the truck slam and the motor fire up. The Agency guy had apparently anticipated my second thoughts, and wanted nothing to do with them. He was halfway down the drive before I could even lift a finger. I was stuck.

Moving as if I were on autopilot, I undid the latches and opened the trailer door. Then I stood and stared at the soft neon green lights as they shifted in the darkness. The four lowest ones were the hooves. The two up top - the two that were locked onto me and appeared to be staring into the depths of my very being in a highly predatory manner - were the eyes. I shivered involuntarily and took a couple steps backward. I wasn't going to make this guy do anything he didn't want to do! The trailer was firmly backed up to the open paddock gate, so there was nothing wrong with leaving him be for the moment. Right? Right! He could come out of there in his own good time... while I waited over there.

Way, WAY, over there.

Conditional Task (Adult) - Taming, 1/4;
(Art or 50 Word Story)

It took Vulture (as I'd taken to calling him) a full day to come out of his trailer. I wasn't around to see the grand emergence though. I only spotted him after the fact - from the corner of my eye as I came up the drive. Maybe if I'd been paying more attention, what was about to happen wouldn't have happened. As it was though, I was thoroughly distracted. My arms had been loaded with groceries, you see, because I had just gotten back from the store, and my mind was on other things. Thus, as the stallion rushed the fence at full gallop... I jumped sky-high. I'd forgotten he existed! Unfortunately, in my fright, I also kinda sorta lost my grip on everything I'd been carrying. A dozen eggs hit the ground, cracked, and began to ooze out of their carton. A loaf of bread turned into a single jumbo-sized pancake thanks to the weight of a gallon of milk. An entire six-pack of soda got dented, one can badly enough to burst. And, to cap it all off, a single sad, lonely, head of lettuce went rolling off across the lawn in a desperate attempt to escape the carnage. It had enough momentum to carry it clear across to the paddock, nearly three yards away, and for a moment I thought it had gained its freedom. Then Vulture's head came down, poking out through the slats of the paddock fence, and his teeth sank deeply into its leafy flesh.

So much for salvation.

I stood there numbly for a moment, mourning my groceries, as the stallion lifted his head, bellowed loudly, and took off across the field with his prize. I don't think he planned on eating it. I just think he was rubbing it in. He knew good and well who had won this round.

Task 2 - Taming;
Share a story in how you started taming, to be able to gain a bit of trust
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

Lately I'd taken to hanging on the paddock fence for several hours a day, just watching my new stallion as he went about his business. We didn't seem to be getting anywhere with this 'relationship' stuff. He'd been here for nearly a week now, and despite my persistence, he still refused to approach me, or even acknowledge my existence in a major way. At least he didn't see me as a threat anymore? The grocery incident had assured him of that. Thus, I was in no immediate physical danger - I didn't have to worry about having my soul stolen unless he got into a 'mood'! Which was... something, I guess. Lost in thought, I drummed my fingers on the fence and watched as Vulture dozed in the afternoon sunlight. Every so often one of his tails would swish reflexively to banish a fly from his hide.

Despite his current placidity, he was a Grelifcent that had been rated as a nine on the Agency's kindness scale - so he wasn't going to warm up to me overnight. I knew that. Yet, for some reason, I found his continued aloofness frustrating. Shouldn't he be getting used to me by now? Even a tiny bit...?

Task 3 - Introduce to a herd;
Introduce the Grelifcent to your/one of your herds.
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

After three weeks of hanging on the paddock fence and being ignored, I decided that maybe I should try a different route. Maybe if I introduced Vulture to a Grelifcent that I'd already bonded with, he'd get the right idea by watching how well we got along, and by seeing how much said Grelifcent enjoyed getting its ears/shoulders/neck/back/whatever scratched. Maybe he'd even get jealous and step right up to get 'pets' of his own!

... hey, I can dream, right?

Problem was, I didn't have a single Grel I felt comfortable introducing to him. Much less leaving alone with him. Given his dominant, corrupt personality, Vulture was likely to try and take over any herd I put him with, and someone could get hurt in the process. He was by FAR the most nefarious Grelifcent I'd owned up to that point! So I slept on it. And I slept on it. And I slept on it. Then it dawned on me. Vulture had come from Band #2, right? The second band of Grels to be rounded up in Meadowdale..? That had been Broom's band too! Thus, Vulture already knew Broom, and I could bet on the reunion going smoothly! I had no idea how I hadn't seen it sooner.

The very next day I fetched Broom from the pasture she shared with Voltare and Dustbowl. To be extra safe, I walked her along the Paddock fence to gauge their reactions to one another before just dumping her in there, because they HAD been apart for a while. But I needn't have worried. The instant they saw each other, there was nothing but recognition and joy.

Conditional Task (Adult) - Taming, 2/4;
(Art or 50 Word Story)

I left Broom and her old boss to get reacquainted in the paddock overnight. I also flat ignored them while I went about my morning chores. After lunch, though, I decided it was time to put plan B into action. That is to say, plan 'let Vulture see that people aren't so bad by spoiling Broom in his presence.'

When I first approached the paddock fence and called out, neither Grelifcent responded. For a moment I was irrationally worried that Vulture had turned the mare against me. Then Broom's ears perked forward and she broke away from the stallion's side. In a flash, her head was hanging over the top rail of the fence and her bony muzzle was prodding my shoulder affectionately, either seeking attention or seeking a jolly ball - Broom was always after her favorite toy! I had been silly to doubt her.

She didn't get a jolly ball this time, as I hadn't brought one along, but she definitely got plenty of attention. I lavished her with all the petting, patting and scratching she could want, all the while keeping an eye on Vulture. At first he didn't seem to care. But when Broom, ham that she was, turned sideways so I could scratch her back with both hands, I saw Vulture's ears falter, and he tossed his head slightly. To my untrained eye, he was getting jealous. After all, HE was the big man on campus, and here he was, being ignored by HIS mare, in favor of me - a creature who was clearly beneath his contempt. What was up?

When Vulture's head went down and his ears went back, I gave Broom one final pat and went on my own merry way. I wanted to get his attention - not start a fight between him and Broom. Now that I had his number, I'd win him over bit by bit, little by little. Patience was key. I just had to out-stubborn the stubbornest Grel I'd ever met...

Task 4 - Brush;
Gain the trust to be able to brush the Grelifcent.
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

About a month later I had a minor heart attack when Vulture shoved between myself and Broom.

I'd been brushing the mare, as was my habit whenever I saw she'd gotten dusty, and I had been doing it out in the paddock. It was just the easiest way to go about it, especially since Broom liked being brushed, and would stand perfectly still whether I'd tied her to something or not. It also helped that a couple of weeks prior, Vulture had finally decided it was OK for his mare to like me, and, accordingly, had started turning his nose up and flat ignoring me whenever I was around, even if I was in the Paddock with them. This last bit was both a victory AND a loss. I was now able to be in the paddock with the stallion without getting trampled, but he generally hung out on the other side of the space, as far away from me he could get.

Which is why his suddenly shoving between myself and Broom startled me so badly.

I froze instantly, unsure of Vulture's motives, and unsure of how to progress. He was by no means the largest of my Grelifcents - he was actually on the short side - but he was still a LOT bigger than I was, and all that bulk was solid muscle. Furthermore, what he lacked in size, he made up for in attitude. This dude was only one point off the meanest of the mean in the Grelifcent world. So when he gave you the harry eyeball, you begged his forgiveness! Fortunately, as I stood there staring at him, brush in hand, he just stood there and stared back. He could have easily pushed me down and cracked my head open at any time (not that I thought Broom would let him). After a moment, he even huffed and stomped a hoof.

It was almost... almost as if he were waiting for me to do something. Something specific. And, because I kept not doing it, he was getting impatient.

100% sure I was going to loose a hand, I extended my brush and gave Vulture's coat a few tentative strokes. It was all I could think of to do, short of bolt and hope to get over the fence before he caught me. The stallion's hide twitched slightly at the contact. So I stopped. He stood there a moment longer, as if considering, then tossed his head and ran off to join Broom on the other side of the Paddock.

Counting my lucky stars, I called it a day and quickly slipped out the gate. Broom could stay dusty for today!

Conditional Task (Adult) - Taming, 3/4;
(Art or 50 Word Story)

After the incident with the brush, I made it a point of actually trying to approach Vulture, at least once a day. Usually he'd just prance away from me. But sometimes, every couple days or so, he'd actually stand still and let me work on his coat a bit. Each time this happened the length of time he'd tolerate me seemed to get longer and longer, though I never pushed him. When he was ready to go, I let hm go. I still wasn't entirely at ease around him, and only trusted him as far as I WAS trusting him because of the ever-present Broom. HER I trusted! I also sincerely felt that, deep down, the reason Vulture was dealing with ME was... Broom. So she was playing the part of peace maker. I'm really not sure how I would have done this without her!

Task 5 - Bathe;
Gain the trust to be able to bath the Grelifcent.
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

Knowing full-well how the brushing thing had worked out, I decided to try the bath thing the same way. So, twice a week, I hauled a couple buckets of water down to the paddock - one for washing, one for rinsing - and, after brushing both Broom and Vulture, set about giving Broom a sponge bath. It was probably the cleanest month of the mare's life!

Sure enough, not long after I began this little experiment, I was rewarded by vulture's attention. He didn't just shove between myself and Broom though. No, not the first time. Instead, he came creeping up from the side, and surprised me by jamming his nose down in my wash-water bucket. Instantly, he regretted his decision. Vulture's head came back up in one startled jerk, suds flying everywhere as he shook to get the soapy water out of his nostrils. This sudden commotion startled Broom, who danced sideways a bit before taking off for the far corner of the paddock. Someone - I know not who - ended up kicking over both buckets.

Water went flying.

In the end, both Vulture and I were soaked - me from my head to my toes, he in various splashes spread across his entire body. You could tell where the water had hit him because the layers and layers of dust that had been caked onto his hide since he'd been here had begun to give way, and bits of his coat had actually come clean. Dirty rivulets of water ran down his legs and dripped onto the ground. He still had suds dripping from his chin, too! I stared at the stallion for a moment, feeling the irritation come off him in waves, and, despite my fear that he'd blame the whole mess on me, I burst out laughing. He just looked so silly!

I'd probably messed up my internal electronics, I needed to haul up another bucket of water to finish de-soaping Broom, and it was likely that Vulture wouldn't come near me ever again. Yes, the 'bath thing' would go down in history alongside the 'grocery incident' as being one of my most spectacular Grelifcent-related screw-ups. But every time I'd think back on it and remember the look of utter contempt etched onto Vulture's bony face as he stood there glaring at me, I'd end up laughing all over again.

Conditional Task (Adult) - Taming, 4/4;
(Art or 50 Word Story)

As I'd predicted, it took a seeming eternity for Vulture to forgive me. He wouldn't even let me near him with a brush for a week or two! But, gradually, he seemed to come around. Eventually he was letting me brush him again. I even managed to find a spot he really loved to have scratched - just in front of his hip on his left side. The sight of Mr. Big Bad himself melting into a happy little colt as I brushed him there was so strange! If you had told me about this at the outset I'd have laughed in your face. And all the while, I continued giving Broom her bi-weekly sponge baths. I didn't want to stop doing it and leave Vulture with a bucket phobia for the rest of his life! Though next time I bathed HIM, I was going to find a way to use the hose on him. Buckets were just too much trouble!

Task 6 - Fully Tamed;
Share a story in how you connected with the Grelifcent
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

Calling a Grelifcent with a kindness of 9 'fully tamed' is like claiming you can catch a tornado in a bottle - you don't tame a Grel like that. Instead, you hope they adopt YOU. To this day I don't pretend to own Vulture. I'd be stupid if I did. Sure, I can brush him and bathe him and lead him around on a rope, but that's only because he lets me. Only because he's decided he likes living the easy life! If he ever changed his mind and started thinking that I wasn't worth his time, or that I'd become more trouble than I was worth, I have no doubt that he'd up and off me, then run away, taking most of my other Grels with him. No, I don't own Vulture. He owns me. Never mind what the papers say! It may seem silly to ascribe such power and intelligence to a horse - even a cursed, undead, horse - but you have to keep in mind that these things have the to power to steal souls. Having an unruly Grel around is just as bad as, if not worse than, having a cobra loose in your house. Thus, I liken people who keep Grelifcents to those people who keep venomous snakes. It's fun to flirt with death. It's fun to pretend you have power over it by caging it up, feeding it as you like, and letting it slither down your arm. But you have to be careful. If you don't respect the power of the snake, you'll learn the hard way - death has no loyalty, and comes quickly to the doorstep of fools.

[Rondell]

Vulture's Quest Log Continued
Everything must be done in order!

Task 7 - Started Training;
Share a story on starting training. Getting used to a halter and leading.
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

I planned on training Vulture as I had trained Broom - slowly, patiently, and methodically. After all, I was in no rush! So, when it came time to introduce him to a halter, I began by putting Broom's halter on as he stood by and watched. Now. He'd seen her wearing the thing before - So this was nothing frighteningly new. In fact, he barely paid attention. But I had a plan! Once I'd finished doing up the buckles, I rubbed the mare between her ears, and promptly took the halter right back off. Then, holding it up for the world to see, I approached Vulture.

THIS is where things would get interesting.

As I drew near, the stallion flicked all three tails in an irritated fashion and raised his muzzle to sniff/prod at the extended halter. Having just come off of broom, it smelled very much like her, but Vulture didn't seem to care one way or the other. When he lowered his muzzle and made ready to trot off, I gave the halter a quick, gentle, shake - just enough to rattle all the metal bits. This caused him to freeze in his tracks. First, his ears swiveled around to pick up the sound. Then, as I jangled the halter again, his head came back around too. He gave the halter another thorough sniff, this time even taking it in his teeth for a moment, before snorting indignantly and fixing me in his sights. He clearly knew something was up.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I shifted my grip on the halter and made ready to slip the noseband into position on Vulture's snout.

The first time I tried, I almost got it on before the stallion pulled back in surprise, snorting loudly. The second time I tried, he gave a loud squeal of protest and looked down his nose at me.

So I stopped.

Instead, I put the halter back on Broom and rewarded her for playing along by fetching her jolly ball and letting her have at it. I'd come back to Vulture tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. For however long it took.

Conditional Task (Adult) - Training, 1/3;
(Art or 50 Word Story)

As I watched Vulture trot around the paddock in his new halter, I felt an odd mixture of pride, sadness, and fear. Pride because I'd done it - Mr. Big Bad had accepted the halter! Though I didn't care to admit how long it'd taken. Sadness because I'd done it - Mr. Big Bad had accepted the halter, and somehow, as a result, he didn't seem so big and bad anymore... even though I knew that such a feeling was irrational. As for the fear... well, that was because I still had to teach him what a lead rope was for.

I'd used the tried-and-true method of 'double lead ropes' with Broom - one employed in the usual way, one (a really long one) wrapped around her hindquarters and held in my other hand so that I could kinda pull on her and direct her movements. It was the way a lot of people trained FOALS to be led around. The jolly ball had helped too. It was one heck of an incentive to get her moving!

I wasn't sure that wold work for Vulture, though.

Again, I ended up using Broom as ambassador. I hooked them both up, side by side, and led them both at once. Pressure from Broom taught Vulture when to turn, and when to stop, and when to go. Kind of like when you're training a team to pull a cart? The more experienced horse helps to guide the rookie. It may not have been the smoothest way to go about it, or the smartest, but it was the only thing I could think of, and it worked in the end. With a minimum of evil looks from Vulture!

Conditional Task (Adult) - Training, 2/3;
(Art or 50 Word Story)

Before I did anything else with Vulture, I decided to take him out on a trail ride. The idea was to polish up his lead rope skills, and to acquaint him with the idea of me being somewhere other than on the ground, all in one go. So, after I finished saddling up my mount of choice (I'll give you three guesses who THAT was), I made the appropriate offerings and got the stallion into his halter. Then I led him out of the paddock, tied him to the back of Broom's saddle (if you guessed it, you get a cookie!), and took off for the back of my property.

We spent the rest of the morning wandering around on trails.

All things considered, Vulture did fine - he actually seemed quite happy to be out in the wilderness, and was the calmest I'd ever seen him. He even took a little nap in the sunshine when we broke for lunch! The only REAL issue we had was the fact that Vulture, being the boss of our little herd, kept wanting to zip up and around Broom to take the lead. He didn't much appreciate playing second fiddle! Once I figured out what was going on though, I minimized the trouble by picking wider trails, and letting him walk NEXT to the mare instead of behind her. This seemed to satisfy him.

Task 8 - Ground Work;
Share a story on doing ground work with the Grelifcent.
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

Laying the groundwork for the day when I finally hopped up onto Vulture's back took less time than I'd imagined, but it still wasn't easy. The stallion really wasn't into the idea of carrying extra weight! Even an added ounce or two set him off! He took to me standing on the mounting block quickly enough, but each time I tried to lean on his back, he went galloping off, his head held high and his tails lashing proudly. He also tossed the saddle pad so many times that I began to wonder if I was ever going to get anywhere. But I persisted. With Vulture, it was always about persistence! Thus, eventually, I got him to stop throwing the saddle pad, and eventually, I got him to stop bucking off the bags of feed I was using to gradually approximate the weight of an actual saddle. Once I'd done that, the only remaining hurdle was getting him to accept the girth. Which... turned out to be surprisingly easy. Sure, Vulture puffed up - but I had other Grels that did that. It was no big deal once you knew to watch for it! When you considered how difficult every other thing I'd done with him had been, I half expected him to implode when I tried putting the girth on for the first time! But he did no such thing. Thankfully. After all we'd been through, I figured it was about time we caught a break! Even if it was a break I couldn't explain.

Task 9 - Train to Ride;
Share a story on doing training the Grelifcent for riding.
(Art or 50-100 Word Story)

After taking Vulture out on a couple more trail rides to let him get the full feel of being saddled up, I decided that I'd put it off long enough - It was TIME.

I began the very next morning. After finishing my chores I got the stallion ready and led him to the arena, where I spent the next few minutes just walking him around the space. I was tense, and he knew it. I could tell by the set of his ears, the way he kept trying to pick up speed.... Thus the laps were more for myself than for him! I was trying to still my mind. I'd been thinking about the day ahead since I'd first woken up! Broom had been one thing; Vulture was another.

Before I could stop to think, I led the stallion over to the mounting block and lined him up. Then I hopped on top of the block, took a deep breath, and swung into the saddle.

For one beautiful moment - nothing happened.

Then all heck broke loose.

Vulture took off like a shot, and I had to cling to the saddle like a barnacle to keep from falling off. I don't remember much after that, I'm afraid - I'd gone into panic mode. But I DO remember thinking that the stallion didn't object to the weight on his back so much as the fact I was on his back... because he was the boss and the boss doesn't schlep around underlings. You know? I also remember a grim determination to slip off the stallion's back and make for the gate the instant he slowed down enough to make it possible. Yes, I remember that vividly. I guess I did it, too, because when my mental fog cleared, I was hanging on the outside of the arena wall, watching Vulture kick up his heels and blow off his frustration by doing laps. Every so often he rushed me, but I held my ground, and eventually he gave up.

Conditional Task (Adult) - Training, 3/3;
(Art or 50 Word Story)

Since that first disastrous ride I'd been working with the stallion almost non-stop. I'd slip into the saddle, hold my seat for as long as I could, then slip down and head for safety. It felt like I was preparing for a rodeo.

In between our or little adventures, Vulture was his usual self. That is to say, he nipped my fingers whenever I tried to groom him, he 'accidentally' stepped on my foot at lest once every other day, and seemed to tolerate my continued presence simply because Broom liked me and he wanted to gain points with her. So at least he wasn't holding this against me! Our relationship had suffered no irreparable harm!

Then, one Monday about a month after this mess began, while taking Vulture's saddle down from the rack in the barn, I decided to try and ride him bareback. The idea came out of the blue, but the more I turned it over in my mind the more it seemed to make sense. I mean... why not? As near as I could figure, having the saddle on his back was one indignity, and having me up there was another. Maybe he was willing to take either-or, but not both. Maybe both was too much for his pride to bear! So if I ditched the one indignity... I replaced the saddle. Maybe I could get away with the other.

Equipped only with a bridle and a mad kind of energy, I headed for the arena.

I'm happy to report that my little blast of insanity was just what the doctor ordered. At first Vulture wasn't sure what to make of it, and danced sideways a few steps before launching forward with his usual vigor. Before he even did one full lap of the arena though, he began to slow. Then... he stopped dead in his tracks. Now I was the one who wasn't sure what to make of things! Cautiously, I reached out and gave Vulture a pat on the neck, at which point he started forward again at an easy trot, and I had to fumble to keep my seat. But I managed it. And Vulture didn't seem to mind all that much.

The rest was history.

====================================================================================

Conditional Tasks: If he/she is adult

Taming & Training
You must write 7 Extra Stories or art of Taming & Training.
You must to at least 3 and 4 of each. They won't count with the others listed above.
(Art or 50 Word Story)

((I've decided to embed these in their respective sections, to create a more cohesive, linear story. They're labeled for what they are, though, so they'll be easy to find - they're also titled with this color.))

====================================================================================


Companion Task - Companion Task Purchased
If you've completed every task, you may purchase this task.
You must complete it within 2 weeks, or the Companion will run away.
The permit will be taken away, and not refundable.
The Companion will be added, and you must write a story in taming the
Grelifcent's Companion.
Write a story of riding the Grelifcent, out to search for the Companion,
and gaining it's trust with the Grelifcent at your side.
This is why the Grelifcent must be Fully Tamed & Trained!
A Foal must be fully grown to find the companion!
(Art of Grelifcent and Companion or 200-250 Word Story)

As I led Vulture through the streets of Meadowdale (yes led - he'd been antsy after the long trip and I wanted to calm him down before climbing onto his back) I ignored the somewhat panicky people around us and instead pondered the nature of Grelifcents. Apparently Vulture had had an animal companion, just like his friend Broom, and they'd been separated during the roundup. That's why we were here - to track said companion down! But it had made me wonder... why, exactly, did Grels choose companions in the first place? Especially Grels like Vulture! Were they innately lonely in their own special, undead way? Did they secretly crave the proximity of truly living creatures? And if so, was it due to an empty place deep inside their being, left by the curse that made them into what they were...? If so, that would explain why so many of them took so readily to domesticity. Their caretaker could be seen as their 'companion'! It could also explain the soul stealing, in an odd, twisted sorta way. As in: the kinder Grels were more likely to crave life in an innocent fashion - pets, friends, companions - and to be satisfied by that passing closeness, while the 'eviler' Grels were more likely to crave life in an envious, hungry way, which ultimately drove them to stealing souls. Stealing the souls of others was obviously not going to solve their problems, but it was the best they could do! Or... the worst. Depending on your point of view. Of course that brought us back to Vulture - a Grelifcent stallion on the higher end of the kindness scale, one point away from being the baddest of the bad. He'd already claimed 25 souls by the figuring of the agency. 25 lives... Why, then, did he want a living companion?

And, for that matter, why did he put up with ME?

I was so lost in thought that I didn't notice Vulture had stopped walking, and I almost fell over as the lead went taunt and jerked me backward. Behind me, I could hear the stallion snort in irritation and stomp his foot. He was none too thrilled with my inattentiveness! Smiling sheepishly, I backtracked a couple of steps and peered curiously at the stallion, only to find that he'd swiveled his ears backward slightly and appeared to be looking down his nose at me. For some reason this only caused my grin to grow wider. After a moment Vulture huffed and turned away, switching the full force of his attention onto a nearby tree.

I was relieved to be out of the spotlight.

We were near the west side of town and the plant in question was a large one of a type I didn't recognize. In fact, I didn't remember seeing many (if ANY) others like it in the entire area. Otherwise, it was just... a tree. It wasn't even shaped unusually! Thus, I could see no reason why Vulture would be so interested in the darn thing, and was half tempted to give his lead a tug in an attempt to get him moving again. We were wasting time. Then, as I stood there gawking and weighing my odds of survival if I gave into my urges, it dawned on me - the stallion's companion could be up there, couldn't it? When Broom had scented her dear little ferret monster hiding in that chicken coop, her reaction had been very similar to this!

Cautiously, I moved forward until I was standing a couple feet away from the base of the trunk and tilted my head as far back as I could to peer up into the branches. It was quite a pretty tree, now that I was getting a closer look at it; particularly its long, slender, dark green leaves. Though the thing gave off a strange perfume that made my nostrils itch. Maybe that was why there weren't many of them around Meadowdale. After only a moment of being subjected to it, I felt like sneezing my head off, and very badly wanted to back off! It didn't help that my imagination was running away with me. I couldn't see anything up there, and because I had no idea as to what kind of animal I was looking for, I kept coming up with all sorts of nasty possibilities.... Vulture's companion could be a big, angry hawk with talons like knives. I could easily see him palling around with one of those! Or it could be some sort of wild cat, just waiting for the right moment to peel my face off. Maybe it was a snake. A poisonous snake. With fangs three inches long. Though it could also be a poisonous spider....

Needless to say, when the branches started shaking, I just about jumped out of my skin.

I was NOT prepared for the thing that came shambling down the tree's trunk, putting one clawed foot in front of the other and staring at me distrustfully with eyes as black as the void. I was not prepared for the low grumbling sound it let out, or the sight of its odd, uneven teeth as it opened its mouth to do so. I opened my own mouth in response...

And out came a huge laugh that was loud enough to ricochet off the surrounding buildings.

The animal that was now reaching out a short, stubby arm in Vulture's direction was... a koala. A KOALA! Yes friend, you read right - of all the animals in the world, Mr. Big Bad had decided to pal around with a small, fuzzy, big-nosed teddy bear! It was just so absurd! I had to back off for a moment to collect myself. When I came back, Vulture had moved closer to the tree and the Koala had taken the opportunity to clamber onto his back. It looked so satisfied with itself, sitting there with its inky black eyes half closed, that I broke out into a second laughing fit.

I was totally calling it 'Carebear' - No one could stop me.

[KathrynKat]

updating info

[KathrynKat]

Pet has been added, it's got 2 weeks to have all tasks completed