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: Some bird Dazadi couldn't see squawked in the distance, disturbed by her presence. It sounded close, probably up in one of the trees that towered over her, and she'd even glanced up in an effort to find it while picking at the damp fabric of her shirt. The foliage was too dense to spot the noisy creature, and she was too uncomfortable to bother looking for long.
The sword she'd discovered in the desert hung awkwardly from where she'd tied it to the top of her own sheathe in a makeshift holster, slapping her legs whenever she turned. Coming here straight from the arid heat of the desert probably hadn't been a wise decision, but she'd never really been known for her wisdom anyway. She couldn't decide which hell was worse, this or the desert, but at least it was darker here without the sun glaring right in her eyes. No, she just felt like she was carrying twice her weight in moisture. She really should have gone home for a shower first, even if it meant two showers in one day.
Stupid Xanth and her stupid patrols.
It wasn't even like Daz could fly; she could zoom right over a firework display and never know it because the tree canopy was so thick.
"Okay, note to self; one area a day is more than plenty for patrols, and whose brilliant idea was this, anyway?" Hers, actually - all Xanth demanded was that she actually do her job now there was no one else to do it for her - but Dazadi wasn't the type to admit blame. Not out loud, at any rate.
So she ambled through the jungle, visualising with painstaking clarity the damage she'd do to Xanth if she were mortal enough for it to matter, and thanking some unknown entity for the speed that made the job that much easier to get through.
And then stopped dead at the edge of an abandoned camp, surprised to see it there. As she picked her way through, it became more than obvious that the campers had been living here for a while, but they'd also been gone a while too. The jungle had already begun to reclaim the space, but the cabins were clearly well-built and would likely last a good few years even out here. Dazadi found it odd that anyone would want to live in the middle of nowhere, but figured it was probably a Therian family, maybe a bunch of Nymphs. Although, if they'd managed to survive in the jungle long enough to build this camp, she couldn't imagine why they'd left it.
"Hmm." Quickly losing interest, Dazadi stepped over a rock and continued on her way, swatting at the sword with increasing frustration as it continued to slap her legs with every step. Whoever owned the damn thing better be real grateful when she returned it, or there was going to be blood.
The sword she'd discovered in the desert hung awkwardly from where she'd tied it to the top of her own sheathe in a makeshift holster, slapping her legs whenever she turned. Coming here straight from the arid heat of the desert probably hadn't been a wise decision, but she'd never really been known for her wisdom anyway. She couldn't decide which hell was worse, this or the desert, but at least it was darker here without the sun glaring right in her eyes. No, she just felt like she was carrying twice her weight in moisture. She really should have gone home for a shower first, even if it meant two showers in one day.
Stupid Xanth and her stupid patrols.
It wasn't even like Daz could fly; she could zoom right over a firework display and never know it because the tree canopy was so thick.
"Okay, note to self; one area a day is more than plenty for patrols, and whose brilliant idea was this, anyway?" Hers, actually - all Xanth demanded was that she actually do her job now there was no one else to do it for her - but Dazadi wasn't the type to admit blame. Not out loud, at any rate.
So she ambled through the jungle, visualising with painstaking clarity the damage she'd do to Xanth if she were mortal enough for it to matter, and thanking some unknown entity for the speed that made the job that much easier to get through.
And then stopped dead at the edge of an abandoned camp, surprised to see it there. As she picked her way through, it became more than obvious that the campers had been living here for a while, but they'd also been gone a while too. The jungle had already begun to reclaim the space, but the cabins were clearly well-built and would likely last a good few years even out here. Dazadi found it odd that anyone would want to live in the middle of nowhere, but figured it was probably a Therian family, maybe a bunch of Nymphs. Although, if they'd managed to survive in the jungle long enough to build this camp, she couldn't imagine why they'd left it.
"Hmm." Quickly losing interest, Dazadi stepped over a rock and continued on her way, swatting at the sword with increasing frustration as it continued to slap her legs with every step. Whoever owned the damn thing better be real grateful when she returned it, or there was going to be blood.
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