[center][h1][color=Maroon][b][u]Fe’ris[/u][/b][/color][/h1][/center] [hr] The skies were heavy, heavier than usual. As Fe’ris wheeled in languid loops around the peaks of the World Anchor, he delved into thick gray clouds that muffled sound and choked out light. Moisture condensed in his fur, and the higher he flew, the colder he got. Far above, where the atmosphere of Galbar dared not reach, he felt something call to him. And it surely wasn’t the sun. But before he could make up his mind, before he could devise a way to fly so impossibly high, he heard something else. A squeal of terror and agony. His interest caught, he dove back down, tucking his wings and speeding above the slopes at a breakneck pace, his back feet mere inches from the jagged rocks and rough mountain surfaces that would shred him should he get too close. Faster, faster, faster he flew, the world turning into a gray and brown blur, the uniformity broken only by a single splash of crimson. The wings opened again, catching his fall with a great billowing noise, stretched tight in their effort to stop him. Below Fe’ris was a single terror bird, its sturdy beak awash in a bloody mess. A small creature lay at its feet, pried apart by crushing talons, its life gushing out into the dirt. The bird cocked its head at the fluffy dragon hovering overhead, its stance poised to run, but when it determined that Fe’ris was not about to steal its meal, it went back to crunching bones and wrenching strips of meat from the body. As Fe’ris watched the blood pool and dry to a grim brown, he saw images of what had just happened. The rodent had been cowering under a scraggly bush, its senses dull and bodily capabilities duller. Its hind legs were barely strong enough to carry it around the slope. Its comically large ears were plastered to the side of its head, incapable of picking out the dangers of the environment. Its claws were ineffectual and useless for defense or acquiring food. So it was no wonder that, desperately hungry, the little creature had poked its head out of the bush, sniffing around for suitable grass and ferns to munch on. And in that same instant, the powerful terror bird, apex predator of the mountains (that Fe’ris knew of- he hadn’t gone poking around in the deeper caves just yet), had snapped it up without so much as a second thought. That bothered Fe’ris. The hunt was meant to be a glorious thing, a battle of wits and endurance between hunter and prey. Survival should go to the superior animal, not the sheerly opportunistic one. Anger twisted inside him, and he swatted at the bird, thumping it heartily and sending it squawking away, bounding over boulders and up twisting cliffside with angry, fluffed up feathers. Fe’ris didn’t care if it hated him now. He shifted to his smaller, more manageable form, and picked up the snapped and shredded body, cradling the delicate bones in his bare claws. He fit them back together, running his thumbs over the tears and using the blood to fuse it into a whole, but still lifeless version of itself. He swiveled the ears and filled the legs with taut, strong muscles. He thickened and sharpened the claws, made the teeth grow incessantly, and shifted the eyes to the side of the head, allowing it to better see anything that might try to sneak up on it. But despite all these gifts, it did not move. It could not move. Fe’ris realized that, despite all his godly power, it was not within himself to restore the little animal’s soul to its body. Saddened, he spread it out beneath the gray sky, where fat droplets had begun to slowly fall, pocking the dirt with circles, trickling down the bare rock, collecting in puddles. As it continued to rain, the soft fur became waterlogged and bedraggled. Once he left, the terror bird would surely return, and it wouldn’t stay out in the open. His work would have been for nothing. He went to go, cape draping in the mud, when more of the creatures emerged, poking twitching noses out of the underbrush and hesitantly coming to check out their improved sibling, or perhaps say goodbye. They crowded around, curious but skittish, and he knew that the slightest movement would send them scrambling pack to pitiful shelter. He knew what he had to do. A wave of his arms, and the blessing spread, jumping from rabbit to rabbit in a chain of red lightning. Some ran off immediately, using their powerful legs to scale the rocks and gravel like never before, spreading far and wide in their fear. But others stayed, possibly more intelligent than the rest, enough so to be awed by the way their bodies changed for the better. These, Fe’ris though, could be improved even more. But how? He would make them like him. Their legs and torsos lengthened and their spines straightened marginally, allowing them to go on all fours or stand upright, like he did. They didn’t have opposable thumbs, but he shifted a part of their arms closer to the rest of their paws, allowing them to grip simple tools. The claws he strengthened even more, reinforcing them with bone and outfitting them with power enough to carve at stone. He allowed their enormous ears to swivel upright and catch sounds, or go flat against their heads. Excited now, he set about distinguishing them from one another and from the brownish, greenish backdrop of the Anchor, spattering some with orange spots and white stripes, others with silver chest fur and white paws. Others still he left solid colors, lengthening their fur and expanding the shades to encompass everything from red to violet. He gave one floppy ears that pointed straight to the ground. Another he gave a mane like his own, russet and warm. He bestowed little differences to each of them, hoping that, in time, the differences would shape ambitions. But for now, they would only need one ambition: survival. And to make sure that that was achieved, he gave them the most important gift of all, the gift of intelligence. Yet, handled improperly, it would be the greatest curse of all. He yearned to see how far it would take them. The closest one, the one with the darkest of violet eyes and the thick, maroon chest fur, blinked at him, approaching on wobbly hind legs. The other rabbit men crooned at one another, testing their vocal chords and the new shapes they could make with their mouths. “Maker! Where go? What are... you? We?” The others nodded. Some had already picked up rocks and took up nervous positions of defense, worried that the terror bird would return. Fe’ris raised a sharp black talon and motioned down the mountain, to a green, fertile valley nestled between the bulk of the Anchor and the Gardens. “You shall go to the valley below and multiply. You shall spread your kind across Galbar and learn all you can.” He shifted the direction he was pointing, resting it on the querulous rabbit man. “You, the strongest and most intelligent, will lead them. And when you grow old and feeble, you shall select a successor who will lead them as you did. You will be the Lapites, and you will be beset by many trials.” He pointed at himself. “And I, Fe’ris, will watch them all. If your vigilance and dedication falters, I will be the first to know. Now go, and let your desires bring you prosperity.” The Lapite leader nodded and began walking in the direction Fe’ris had pointed. The others looked between the two, then shuffled after him in a strange hopping gait. He hoped they would survive the scary, changing world he and the other gods had made. But above all, he hoped they would not grow lazy. If they did, he might just have to do something about it. When they were all beyond the nearest crest, he returned to his domain form and soared away. [hider=Summary:] Fe’ris flies around, as usual, and hears a proto-rabbit creature get rekt by a stone bird. He sees how easily it got caught and thinks “man, that’s wack” and decides to bless them to be rabbits that can jump and run and shit. Then, he turns some rabbits into the Lapites, sentient bunnymen that will live in the valleys of the World Anchor. [/hider] [hider=MP Usage:] Fe’ris: 4MP/4DP Create a race of sapients with extraordinary abilities: 2 MP (Big jump: The Lapites can jump their height vertically, and on average as well as an Olympic-level human long-jumper. but they’re not like the best in the world yet lmao) (Rad dig: The Lapites are skilled at digging, whether with their bare paws or crude tools. they dig good) 2MP/4DP [/hider]