Up to Nothing But Good! [Pets Only, OPEN!]

Having helped his brother open the door and thus far participating in this plan as a willing conspirator; Sigard became somewhat bored. It wasn’t that troublemaking wasn’t fun, but yet…at the same time…it was just so slow—slow like these pillies. Did Avsiran really expect them to wait inside this room for those tiny little creatures to journey across the entire open area from the water into the stoneplace their larger bonded liked so much? Well that was simply boring. He might not be the troublemaker that Avsiran was, but he was certainly a man of action. He waited as long as he could; that is until the stonelike bugthing had appeared, and when she did not have her mudlike fellow with her he promptly winked out of existence himself and reappeared over the open expanse of land; eyes sharp until he found the trundling mudlike form.

So slow. Too slow. With an exasperated chitter he swooped down onto the mudlike bugthing and poked at it with angry chitters until it wrapped itself up into a ball, at which point he simply latched onto it and swept it into the air. Although he was going to simply between it back into their big bondeds stoneplace, the mudlike thing in his claws began happily making strange noises which the flitter took to mean excitement: Of course this was paired with the fuzzy images it was attempting to project at him. Stop it! He hissed. Fuzzy images made him dizzy. Stop it! By the time the two arrived back inside the room he was quite happy to be rid of the thing, dropping it unceremoniously onto the floor and alighting on his large bonded’s bed to chitter at his brother expectantly. What now?

His attentions were momentarily stolen by the Pink who was eating their plan. If his mouth could have formed an exceedingly disgusted look it would have, as it was he snorted softly. Females.

Doing his best to avoid eye contact with the meat the Pink was offering—it was their plot why was she eating it?—he could not avoid the thoughts she sent into his mind. Females. Now he was a parcel delivery, and it wasn’t even for his bonded, but Sigard was a worker—Sebolaren had seen to that—his flit would respond to any call to duty; and he would do it with more grace, elegance, and far less destruction than his good-for-nothing brother. With a small assenting chitter the lighter-tinged Blue shook his head and then leaped mightily from the bed: They had long ago become accomplished between-ers and could wink out of existence from nearly any closeness to objects; dangerous though it might be and regardless of their bondeds attempts to train it out of them.

He flashed back into the world into the growing light of morning which caused him to lid his facetted eyes from the skyball. It was so obnoxious to go from dim stoneplace to outside. So obnoxious. Typically he avoided going from dark to light and back again, but he would make an exception to do what he had been asked: Only this once though, silly female, only this once. She didn’t have the demands that the mean green female had, no, she was just sweet and…Pink. So Pink; females. Of course the bugthing images she had sent were also pink. Like a little flower but not so tasty, what was this colour anyway.

There it was too, bugthing, pinkthing, on a two-legger shoulder. Why would that even be so, bugthing was not a flit, a shoulder was for a flit; this had to be fixed. So he fixed it. Swooping in Sigard plucked the pinkbug from the two-legger and betweened as soon as they were clear: Instantly he was back inside the stoneplace and depositing yet another bug onto the floor. Oh the scared two-legger who stayed with his big bonded would not be pleased. It was unfortunate that scaredman was not here, yes it was: It was also better. Settling down again he trilled happily—work done.

Until he noticed the stonethingbug had stolen the tunnelsnake, well that would not do, and this room was certainly more his and his big bondeds than this greything; he was older, larger, and simply better. Fluttering down beside the greything he pushed her off with a powerful hindleg and stole back the tunnelsnake; not content with simply this he fluttered up and placed it on top of scaredman's dresser. There. Get it now greythingbug.

CHAOS. Sigard hated the chaos HATED IT. WHY. WHY SO MUCH. He didn’t raise his voice to shriek, because that would cause more chaos, but he did chitter at his darkbrother as he mauled the poor Pink again: TUNNELGUTS, FEMALES DIDN’T KNOW BETTER; YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT. Slitherguts and featherbrains that’s all Avsiran was when he got into moods like this. Sigard launched himself agilely to the dresser and covered Sparkle protectively; again seeking to comfort her with his soft croons and nuzzles. He doesn’t mean it little female, he doesn’t, he doesn’t at all; it is okay; we should play! There! Bluewonderlandblue. He has a Pink sister, he does, we could go find her, her names is Puff, puffpetalflower Puff.

Sigard dropped from the dresser and betweened almost on top of Wonderland crooning softly and flashing images to the Blueblue. Puff was needed! Puff needed to help the Sparkle; she was lost. Didn’t wonderland see? It was dangerous here. If only he knew where Wonderland’s bonded was, if only there was an image he could wrestle and they could go. Where is Puff? Pufferfishiesfly. He tried to ignore Nameleth’s raging, but it was hard to; and he nudged Wonderland to see it. Greenhate, must be guarded against. Need Puff for Sparklepink. It would be good. Perhaps Wonderland could soothe Avsiran beneath the bed? His brother could be so featherbrained.

No, no the Wonderblue was going away; why? Sigard contemplated tackling the Blue, but without his brother to back him up it was possible that Wonderland would overthrow him easily, and Sigard refused to be overthrown: He was a King, of all these sorts of crazed beasts and winged things and bugthings. So yes; go little minion, go back to your existence while I remain and fight the good fight alone, scared little Bluething, your calm could have been used here, but instead it will lead only to destruction and we will find yours; yes we will; we will. He snorted again and snapped his wings, sending himself careening back into the room and under his bonded’s bed like an arrow; wings spreading to slow his momentum he skidded to a halt near his darkerbrother.

We must go. There is more to do; more to see. Stupid here. Stupid trapped and chaos. Stupid here. There are bigger places with better things and more to find, more to do than we have ever done. The dayball is high in the flatblue place and there are great and small things to find—yes. We must go. Leave stupid things; take things that are not. Like this—thing. He poked the flipbugpinkbug. We go. Scrabbling back out into the room he chittered softly at Sparkle and Cassia. We all go. All of us. Bigger places; more interesting—but where? So many to choose.