Between the Roots and Branches [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

Don't worry, dreamers of Manhattan. There will be no humiliating episodes of sudden-onset-clumsiness tonight - at least, nothing more severe than what you might experience naturally. Your physical and mental faculties will be left perfectly intact. What a treat! And what luck, because if you do lose your footing, it's a long way down to the forest floor.

But hey, who wants to be on the boring old ground when there are so many wonderful treehouses to explore? There are dozens of them spread throughout the surrounding forest, connected by a series of bridges and catwalks (some, admittedly, a bit more stable than others). It's easy to forget - or fail to notice - that there really is no easy or conventional way down to the ground when you're surrounded by such splendor.

The houses' styles range from charming and rustic to modern and sleek, with many falling somewhere in between. There are viewing platforms for bird-watching or simply taking in the scenery (trees, mostly, though if you venture high enough, you'll be treated the sight of the forest canopy stretched across a valley far below). But the insides of the treehouses are comfortably furnished to varying degrees as well, so there's no need to immerse yourself in nature if you'd really rather not. Some are complete houses in their own right, with all the amenities of a Manhattan apartment and then some.

Go for a climb, or kick back and relax. The only enemies you'll find here are other dreamers... and, potentially, gravity.

Comments

[wildmage_daine]

Oh, for--this is stupid, and whatever concern she might have felt for the creature is giving way to annoyance. She's given him no reason to pursue her like this, and while she's confident she could lose him, what would happen to the next poor dreamer who had the audacity to greet him? He can't be allowed to just attack folk willy-nilly.

Daine puts on an extra burst of speed, buying herself the time and distance she needs as she keeps an eye out for a good, sturdy branch. Spying one, she swoops in for a landing and shifts. She's no longer a little feathery thing; now she's a big furred thing, facing him down with teeth bared and a heavy paw outstretched.

STOP! she shouts, punctuating the order with a roar.

[dashkin]

He darts and swoops neatly around, all wild and ready to cut it off when

it isn't feathered anymore.

Bitey knows roars. Bitey knows roars. That's all the Morrugs do, the big stupid lumbering things, is roar roar roar at him like that'll ever drive him off. This thing isn't a Morrug, whatever it is. It's big and furred and stripey, and the roar might send him arcing over the treetops to land with a clatter some distance away, but it doesn't scare him off. Not completely.

Nothing can catch him. Not even furry stripey things.

Wicked-quick, Bitey tears a long wet strip of moss from the nearest tree and balls it up into a wet messy bundle, then flings it at the thing's nose with an experimental flick of his wrist.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine twitches her paw sideways, not swatting the bundle of moss out of the air, but allowing it to bounce off of her paw pads instead of off her face. I don't know what your problem is, she says sourly, still showing her teeth, since he seems to at least have a begrudging wariness of her now that she's large enough to defend herself. If he just talked to her, maybe she could help. She doesn't make that offer, though, because she can guess how it'd be received.

Maybe he'll respond better to rudeness.

Too stupid to talk, or just choosing not to?

[dashkin]

Baring his teeth in a great wide grin, Bitey sniggers, harsh and loud, little knobby shoulders shaking with cruel mirth. He watches it with his head cocked. It looks slow. Slower than him. He's faster than anything.

He shoots up into the branches above the stripey thing's head, showering it with bark and twigs.