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This time, the passimian stirred at the gentle touch of the marowak, and blinking the sleep from his eyes, Mallor saw in the dim morning light that Myrian still slumbered. There was a sweet scent in the air, and a gentle, cool weight upon his head. Mórag was crouched beside him, her bone mask no longer bearing its flower crown. The passimian did his best to remain still and steady as he felt Alistair shifting about on his head, gently removing the bandage and inspecting his wound. “It’s healing up well,” the maternal marowak reassured him, as she set about winding a new bandage around his head. “This is just t’provide a little cushioning under yer helmet while yer head’s still tender,” Mórag explained. “Please take care while yer out there, though.” And promising he would, Mallor rose to gently wake Myrian. “Hey Mirri, it’s morning.” “Mal?” The monferno slurred sleepily, struggling to open her eyes. A moment later though, as if recalling the events of the previous day, Myrian sat up

Mallor stirred to find himself resting in a corner of a barn, head propped up by a sack of grain. For a moment, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed again, before he remembered what had happened - where they were. The passimian jolted forward with a chirrup of alarm, but a painful throbbing in his head stopped him in his tracks, both hands coming up to press flat against his temples. Another thread of panic added to the thrumming of his heartbeat. His helmet was gone. Instead he was adorned with a bandage that held a poultice in place over the most tender area of his skull. “Fear not, lad,” came a reassuring voice, and a marowak shuffled towards him, dragging her heavy tail behind her. “Yer safe. So’s yer sister 'n' the wee one she brought us earlier.” Though initially apprehensive at the approach of the stranger while he was feeling vulnerable, Mallor made an effort to focus on what she’d said. “Wee one?” he mumbled, his tongue feeling sluggish. He blinked, found himself staring at

It had taken longer than Mallor had expected - in fact he’d just begun to entertain the idea of trying to wrangle the pair of bunnelby’s back by himself - but a voice on the wind immediately brought him relief. “You’re Mallor, right?” the bright-eyed aipom asked once she and the small group with her closed the distance. Having received a nod of affirmation, she continued, her gaze panning as she took in the scene. “Your sister told us you had your hands full with a couple of -” “Varmints!” Helmstok snapped short-temperedly, and immediately wavedd a couple of his farm hands over to gather the berries, fruits and vegetables that Mallor had tipped out of the crate. In addition to these were a few small sacks of grain. “They in there?” the excadrill rumbled, and when Mallor didn’t answer, he turned his head sharply and fixed the passimian with a squint. “Well?” Hastily clearing his throat, Mallor mumbled a ‘yes’ and prompted by the impatient expression of Helmstok’s face (and a gesture

There seemed to be damage everywhere they looked. To the east of them, a couple of teams seemed to be assisting some of Helmstok’s farm hands to repair a fence that had been damaged. Myrian eyed the torn-up posts with apprehension, before Mallor whistled for her attention and gestured for her to follow him. Together, they carefully picked their way across a field whose crops had largely been pilfered, and what little was left behind had been crushed underfoot. “Such a waste,” Mallor muttered beneath his breath, and Myrian couldn’t help but agree. Back where they had come from, a forest to the north of Rift City, the troupe they’d belonged to had only ever taken what they’d needed. As the simians trailed across the field, they searched for anything they could salvage, but the longer they spent looking, the more frustrated the monferno became. “There’s nothing here, Mallor, this is a waste of time.” Myrian sat down heavily with a huff, her brow all crinkled. “I think I found

If not for the undercurrent of her excitement - they were heading out of their first job, only days after joining the Icebergs - Myrian might have noticed sooner that her brother was steadily sinking into a sombre mood. It was only as they neared the outskirts of Helmstok’s farmstead that the monferno stole a glance at her brother, secretly seeking reassurance, that she realised, and immediately the stirrings of apprehension in her chest blossomed into doubt. Her bright eyes narrowed, and her lip twitched momentarily, revealing a sharp canine. He regretted coming to Rift City. Any moment now, he’d say it. ‘This was a mistake. We’re leaving. Time to go home.’ But they had no home to go back to. No, that wasn’t quite true. Mallor still had a home, one where Myrian was no longer welcome. “Mirri,” the passimian said softly, meeting her gaze. There was concern in his eyes, shadowed as always by the rim of his helmet-shell. Not doubt, not regret. Fear. Fear for her. “Myrian,” he began

Team Alias: Occam’s Razors Rank: Scribe Guild Affiliation: Ardent Cinders Date Joined: April 1st 2021 Guild Ranking: Basic Funds: 0 Meobans Collected Stamps: none yet ==================== Member 1: Epsilon the Linoone (Regional variant: Galarian) Gender: male Age: young adult Nature: Bold Characteristic: Likes to Fight Ability: Quick Feet Move 1: Knock Off (egg move) Move 2: Fury Swipes Move 3: Lick Move 4: Hone Claws Uniform Accessory: Cheap Scarf Item 1: Item 2: Item 3: Description: Due to being a variant form of linoone, Epsilon’s fur is black and white instead of brown and cream, and he possesses an overall shaggy appearance, but beneath the fur, he’s just as streamlined and sleek as other linoone. His paws are larger, as is common with his variant, and he takes pride in his long claws, ensuring that they are kept in good condition. His muzzle is broad, and his upper jaw is crowded

Team Alias: Sylvan Sentinels Rank: Scribe Guild Affiliation: Roaring Icebergs Date Joined: March 30 2021 Guild Ranking: Basic Funds: 10 Meobans Collected Stamps: none yet ==================== Member 1: Mallor the Passimian Gender: Male Age: Young adult Nature: Brave Characteristic: Good endurance Ability: Defiant Move 1: Vital Throw Move 2: Rock Smash Move 3: Beat Up Move 4: Take Down Uniform Accessory: Dyed feather Item 1: Item 2: Item 3: Description: Mallor is broader in the shoulders than many of his old troupe, but it’s only really noticeable when he’s seen with other passimian. Where the dark fur on his torso and arms gives way to white fur, the distinction is far more jagged than most passimian, a trait possibly inherited from Mallor’s pangoro father. The same is true for the white ring near the tip of his tail, its edges are jagged. There is a noticeable crack in his coconut-shell helmet, just to the right of the