Gwenivere's Dream
IC date: Autumn 57
OOC date: November 15
Location: Dreamland
PCs: Gwenivere Dream-Daze
GM: Applejack

It was a dark, cloudy night… Black clouds hang over a stretch of dark trees, lining along a lonely forest path nearly overgrown with roots and dusted with wet leaves. Every once in a while a stray beam of moonlight lights up the pathway, like a flicker of an etherial torch showing the dent in the ground that makes up this path.

It seems to stretch on, and on… Miles behind, miles ahead, the pathway goes. To either side the trees huddle together, crowding around like crazed fans at a sports game, branches extended overhead with just enough space now and then to let the moonlight through. This is where Gwenivere finds herself roaming.

The path continues, but doesn't look framilar to her. Occasionally the forest griffin looks around "I always mark off where I've been" she huffs looking behind her seeing nothing, and ahead of her nothing as well "Who's out there?" she asks aloud as she draws a hatchet from her tool belt, "Come out you" she tells, though its not loud, not yet. Gwen strides in a circle looking around finding herself for once utterly lost in this forest mixmatch of unframiliar pathways, or forests. Her Keen eyes dart this way and that looking for a threat.

The forest doesn't answer with words. It answers with wind. Whistling wind, breezes that twist a few small devils of leaves here and there, spinning for a few moments, then blowing themselves out to deposit their debris onto the pathway.

Threats? Just wind. Wind, leaves, swirls of sticks twisting towards the griffon, dying out before they can reach. The wind seems to pick up the branches, pushing them towards the wandering forest ranger, reaching like so many little grabby claws. Dark, breezy, creaky… Spooky? Maybe a little!

Gwenivere isn't afraid of some sticks or brush, but is concerned by the wind and this path that seems to loop on infinitum, always the same never changing. The griffon changes direction since she doesn't need the path, she defies what logical ponies would do, and actually heads through the trees and into the wood itself abandoning the pathway and its infinity lies. She's not spooked easily, but this place and its evident magic, does put her on edge.

Magic indeed! Leaving the path, foraging for herself proves to be difficult. The trees are pretty close to one another, with the space between trees filled with bramble-covered bushes. It takes effort, very careful effort in order to move through this mess of forest mass without getting stuck or caught by the brambly bushes.

It doesn't help that the bramble bushes seem to be /reaching/ for the griffon. One particularly clear moment, when the moon filters through the clouds, it's easier to confirm this. Yes. The bushes /are/ moving. Long spindly vines of thorny mess reaching for the spotty woodsgriff.

But that doesn't seem to be all. The brambles aren't the only things reaching. Branches? Yep. Those too! Twisting and cracking of their own accord! As though Gwenivere had a plant-magnet in her pocket somewhere. Even the roots of the trees are twisting themselves free of the ground to start worming towards her.

The entire forest rustles. Rustles, reaches, and /moves/ towards her.
"Wait, What?" she stares suddenly ensnared for the slightest of momments as a cape draped talon that formerly was pushing away at bushes finds itself ensnared by the very same. With a swift yank yank YANK she tumbles backward with a fresh rip in her precious cape, she stumbles backward over roots and and branches alike. Suddenly there is fear in her eyes as the forest seemingly opens itself to her like some sort of trap, her the fly the forest around her the living plant akin to a venus fly trap with her as the tasty morsel ensnared within.

Twist, Turn, Dance almost as all her knowledge of the forest relm is turned on its side and shooken violently, leaving only myth to spill out corrupt the real, replace it with only the terror, as Gwenivere struggles to return to that path now and hopefully to saftey! Gwen swings around her hatchet as if it will assist in her own self defence, whipping at offending branches in self defence!

To the griffon's benefit, the plants, the branches, the vines seem to shrink away from the sharp edge of the axe, as though it were on fire. Enchanted even! But this doesn't stop the ones behind the griff from rapidly trying to close in while her back is turned! The path is /right there/, but even when Gwen fights her way to the path, all of the trees along the path shudder and groan…

It's that moment. That moment when Gwenivere steps paw onto the pathway again that the moonlight streaks through once more. This time the illumination reveals more than the forest.

Each tree now has a face. A ghostly, 'dead' face, staring with fiery eyes and fanged mouths, reaching branches that now seem to have sharp ghostly claws at the ends! The wind howls, words echoing in the air. "We want yooooooouuuuuu!"

Fear, check! Terror, Check! There's a terrified squawak issued from the forest griff as her front is well defended, but backside anything but, Her long floofy tail is ensnared in bushes and brambles as the griff does her best to fight them, they, this, this place from further ensnaring her "No, No, Get Back, Get Back" she cry's out as her eyes tear up, with terrified emotion the likes of which are completely uncharacteristic for her.

Branches and brambles tug and tear at her and while her first line of defense is her precious cape, it is soon rended from her, but before that, lies a case with something more precious than even her cape in it. There lay a case made of the finest materials, and built to endure the occasional roughness that she issues, the case of her violin. It is tugged away from her in the midst off her fighting for her life from the forest that is suddenly rebelling from the forest griff. She crys out in fear and sorrow as she is relieved of her belongings, leaving her with merely herself and her hatchet.

Gwen whirls in place trying to keep everything away from her, even as her precious belongings are pulled away and taken from her, she is still trying to defend herself. Her wings finally whip out, as she looks all the more fearsome and scary herself in full griffon glory.

Fearsome griffon! The forest recoils at that moment, the branches twisting back, the brambles turning away, the roots lifting the trees up to widen the pathway… But they don't move too far. And they've taken the cape and the violin case with them, the latter disappearing into a shadowy mass of brambles. The moonlight fades, leaving just the shadows of the forest, rustling, cowering… But for how long? Gwenivere knows the truth of this forest now. It is so haunted… The entire forest appears to be haunted. Haunted, and /hungry/.

But trees and bushes aren't the only things lurking in this forest. The wind carries the sounds of something new. A deep, gruff breathing somewhere off in the distance. Something that's caught the scent of griffon and is now on the way…

With the forest recoiling from her she is set free, but not all of her, her belongings taken, she will fight for them, but at what cost, her life, her soul, what cost, they are that special to her, her heart lies with that violin, memories with that cape, better times, of friendships past, all within merely an article of clothing and a musical instrument.

She Will Fight!

Yet the forest seems to be playing a devilish game of keep-away! As Gwen charges back in after her belongings, the forest just parts in front of her, the cape and violin case hanging from a branch, being tossed from branch to bramble, to branch, deeper into the forest. It /welcomes/ the forest ranger… 'Yesssssss' the wind whispers, somehow containing an eager tone, keeping the belongings ever just out of reach, leading the griff on through the haunted pathways.

Until one final fling sends both violin case and cape fluttering, landing in the middle of a single, enormous, and very colorful flower. A flower with thick petals and a hollow core each easily the size of a pony. The flower shudders, as though sensing the presence of something. Something new. Something tasty.

Gwenivere ducks and dodges and dives after her precious belongings skidding to a halt before the enormous plant pondering all of her knoledge of forest lore, and finding herself at a loss for this massive menacing form of plantlife, yet also seeing something unsettling about this plant having some sort of instinctive knowledge that it like her is carnivorious. "No, You Can't, thats MINE" she shouts as she aproaches the plant, "You can't have that! I won't let you!"

Gwen is a creature made of talons, claws and sharps, a hazard to those around her if she were to choose it, but now this very forest has gotten to her, gotten in deep to her soul, and yanked at the strings that keep her sane, pulling out the threads of a satchel containing all her marbles, and now, she's just lost them to this plant, this haunted forest!!!

Gwen pounces forward using all her feline skill and grace, one talon spread wide, one gripping that hatchet, and has her hindclaws fully out, ready to strike and hopefully rend that mere plant to shreds and regain her cape and violin!

As Gwen pounces forth and begins to shred the petals of this great carniverous flower, for it is indeed quite the beast-eating plant, she finds her sharp talons raking along silken surfaces. There's no edges, no friction for a claw to catch on! It's as though the entire plant is made out of a spongey teflon, impervious to the sharp instruments she brings to bear! As though this thing were used to catching creatures that fought with tooth and claw.

The middle of the flowery devourer seems to open up, to welcome its new victim with open maw, the violin case and cape teetering upon the edge of the gaping chasm. The petals are rapidly closing in, urging Gwen towards that 'mouth'. How will she escape? Can she escape?

Up above, the clouds part, showing the full moon in stark relief, adding a little moonlight to the mix. This plant… Ringed around that gaping maw are so many eyes! Hungry eyes, staring at Gwen, the 'mouth' slavering, drooling…

Another breeze blows through. This time, the sound brings with it a whisper of a voice. A feminine, even childish voice.

It's just a dream! If you wake up, it all goes away!

Gwenivere Struggles finding no purchase, but worse finding herself sliding, headlong down into that maw, she tries with no luck to grip to grap to escape, wings spread out to try and gain something but she is positioned wrong for even them to work, she cries out not in rage this time but in sheer terror as she slides closer to that gaping maw, and as she slips over that edge and into the void, she hears that voice like an angel calling out to her making the griffon ponder her fate. The griffon clutches her eyes shut as she falls into the mouth of the plant, still she cry's out!!!

The Cry peirces the forests late evening stillness, she is still tucked into the notch of a wide tree, entwined in her own cape and travel blanket. Violin still tied to the very same tree. The griffoness is left panting and gazing around at the very unhaunted forest around her, "N, n, Nightmare" she shudders intently, as she deftly furls her blanket wrapping it around herself, and snagging her violin to her. Gwen drops from the tree to land with a heavy 'Thud' and she reels again.

The grifffon has had quite enough of sleeping in the forest tonight, and so she seeks out the pony town that she's been through before, "Perhaps the Inn still has rooms for the night" she shudders intently pulling her cape and travel blanket close to her for warmth that won't still settle her thoughts "But who was that that called out to me?" she ponders out loud, "Did Luna save me from the night?" she asks of herself and the forest which is diminishing around her as she bounds for the saftey of town.