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Twyl had quite enjoyed his time on the ship and had managed to explore most of it while his mistress was otherwise distracted. But the desert was another thing altogether. Much like his mistress, Twyl did not enjoy the sand, so spent most of his time sleeping soundly in his little hideaway inside his mistress's sleeve. Her getting down from the camel had woken him and he cautiously poked his head out for a quick look before ducking back. Still way too much sand for his liking.
Twyl's nose twitches at the smell of sausage and he lifts his head from his mistress's shoulder to see where it's coming from. He pauses an anxious moment when he spies the strange old woman with a piece in her hand waving it at him. But he soon recognizes the old lady as a friend of his mistress and relaxes. Hopping down off his perch, he scampers off to claim his prize, which he immediatelly begins to chew on with gusto.
Twyl is playing hide and seek with his mistress when he catches the scent of something familiar in the air and freezes. He then sniffs again and looks about him in excitement. He remembered now. This was the smell of the little man who had fed him tidbits of food on that trip they took to that island. It had been so long ago that he'd almost forgotten. Sniff! And there was the familiar smell of the cut fruit the little man always seemed to carry with him. Oh joy! The ermine familiar finally catches sight of the little man, and though Twyl can't understand the noises he's making with his mouth, there's no mistaking what the little man is holding in his hands. Without a moment's hesitation, Twyl launches himself into the air and flies over to greet the little man. He then reaches out with his odd human-like hands to snag the pieces of proffered fruit before chittering appreciatively in response and flying back to his mistress to enjoy his tasty new acquisitions.
Twyl is relaxing and feeling safe in the hands of his mistress when he catches some motion out of the corner of his half-closed eyes. He freezes as he stares into the eyes of a rat. His body tenses as he considers whether trying to fly away, or dive back into his mistress's sleeves, was the best way to escape this danger.
His mistress notices the change and looks up. She then soothes Twyl through their empathetic connection. "Everything's fine. It's just Itka's friend; like you and me." Twyl relaxes. Ah yes, so it was. He remembers seeing the same rat when they were travelling in the wagon; it was the strange-looking crone's friend; not a danger. After another moment of eyeing each other, Twyl lifts one of his odd human-like hands. He waves at the rat and chirps a greeting. He wonders if it wants to be friends.
Twyl is unhappy that he can't perch himself on his mistress's shoulders from where he usually watches everything that goes on around them. He also doesn't understand why she won't let him, or why she seems to be in an uncharacteristically melancholic mood. He starts to slink back under her coat to find somewhere comfortable to hide when he notices the black rat climbing up the leg of the strange-looking crone seated nearby. He freezes and eyes them for a while until he realizes that they aren't some dangerous wild rat but a friend of the wizened lady. Twyl lifts one of his odd human-like hands and waves at the rat trying to catch their attention and say hi. He hoped they could be friends.
Twyl was deep down in his mistress's backpack nestled within her spare set of fine clothing and anxiously listening to the sounds of battle outside. As usual, he was terribly worried about what might happen to her. He didn't know what he would do or even what would happen to him if she were to die. She was his whole life; he felt their psychic connection as a true lifeline; without it, what? He shuddered at the thought. He tried to calm himself. She'd been in battles like this before and come out unscathed every time... well, almost every time. There wasn't anything to worry about really. This would all be over in a little while and things would get back to normal again. Aaaand... that's when he felt the sharp jolt of her thought through their empathic connection. "Danger. Hide. Pain coming." It was the first time she'd ever warned him like that. He instinctively rolled himself into a tight ball to weather whatever was coming their way.
The blow against the backpack was harder than anything he'd felt before. He was tossed around inside her backpack like a rag doll and several of the harder objects bounced off him causing injuries. "<squeeeeeeal!>"
Once the noise and wind dies down, Twyl pokes his head out to see what's going on. As it looks like the fighting is over, he slips out and onto his mistress's shoulders for a better look around. That's when he spots the griffons. "<eeeek>" He dives back into the safety of the backpack and waits for the fireworks to start up again. But no; there are no more fireworks. He feels his mistress start walking up the hill and finally gets a call through their empathic connection to hand her the shiny rock that the nice bird lady had given him earlier. He'd gotten attached to the pretty bauble and was reluctant to part with it, but his mistress's insistent command could not be ignored. Somewhat unwillingly, he sticks his arm out the side of the backpack and hands her the rock. He feels his mistress start moving back down the hill and then pause. He pokes his head out to see what's up and spots the griffons again; much closer this time. They are not attacking, so after a moment he slips out onto his mistress's shoulder for a better look. He leans over wondering if maybe they're friendly, but a growl in his direction suggests strongly that he was more likely to be on the menu than invited to share a meal. He dives back into the relative safety of the backpack to await further developments.
Twyl sees the strange bird lady bring out the shiny rock and hold it up to the light. He is enchanted by it. In his excitement, he takes to the air and flies over to the lady, eventually hovering near enough to touch the stone but not daring to. The bird lady smiles at him and hands him the shiny rock. Twyl grabs onto it and holds it up to the light again. He rushes back to his mistress and shows it to her. She smiles at him and nods her approval. He dives into the backpack and adds it to his ever expanding collection of pretty things.
Twyl squeaks in excitement at having chosen correctly and snatches the pickle from the green man's hands before he can take it away. "<crunch, crunch>" When the green man mentions pickled eggs, Twyl nods vigorously. He'd never heard of pickled eggs, but if they were anything like pickles, he was all for it.
Twyl is only momentarily disappointed when Erina turns down his admittedly half-chewed apple slice. He quickly recovers though when he realizes that it meant he got to eat it instead, which he promptly did. When his mistress turns to leave, Twyl looks over his shoulder and making a chirping sound, waves goodbye to his new spiny friend. He had been so distracted by the appearance of Erina that he'd completely ignored the green man on which she was perched. Now that he thought back, Twyl realized that he'd understood some of what the green man had said. How strange, he thought; he couldn't remember that ever happening before. Maybe he'd imagined it.
Twyl is happy to stuff as much apple into himself as the strange little man is willing to part with. His mistress usually kept a close eye on him to make sure he didn't get into trouble, but she either hadn't noticed yet, or did not seem to mind him eating the fruit in this case. When the strange large-eared green man appears, Twyl looks on with interest. He'd interacted with this type of person in the past, and as they'd always treated him kindly, he was not afraid. His interest spikes when the green man takes his hat off and Twyl notices the small spiny creature underneath... who then proceeds to wave to them. How exciting! He waves back eagerly and wonders if she'll be his friend. Hoping to make it so, he takes to the air and hovers nearby. Reaching out with the chunk of apple still in his hand, he offers it to her.
Twyl had draped himself across his mistress's shoulders and was snoozing pleasantly when suddenly an unholy screech from the depths of hell causes him to practically jump out of his skin.
He feels his mistress jump too, which terrifies him even more. Normally nothing scared his mistress, so this must be something truly horrific. Without thinking twice, Twyl dives into her backpack and finds a nice dark corner to hide in. He was sure that his mistress would take care of everything in her usual noisy way.
Twyl eyes the strange little fellow with the sharp teeth rather warily. He'd seen him hanging around his mistress a little to often for comfort. He looked dangerous and Twyl wasn't at all sure he could be trusted in mixed company. But when it came to plans. Maaaan! He was a prodigy. Twyl couldn't see a flaw in it. He'd follow that plan right off the edge of the world it was so good.
Twyl tenses as the wolf approaches his mistress. He silently begs the wolf not to bite her. He was terrified, though more for the wolf's sake than for hers. He'd seen all too often what his mistress did to creatures that bit her to worry on her account. He watches with trepidation as his mistress extends her hand so the wolf can smell it and relaxes visibly when nothing untoward happens. When the wolf then shows an interest in him, Twyl is excited; if his mistress doesn't think the wolf is dangerous, that's good enough for him. He dives off her shoulder; his wings opening to catch him just before he reaches the ground. Twyl then scampers up to the wolf, but the beast scoots away behind his peculiar green master. Twyl doesn't approach any closer and instead waits on his haunches with a friendly expectant look on his face. He really hopes the wolf will want to be his friend.
As they near the encampment, the steadily increasing activity around them initially delights Twyl. He hops up on his haunches from his usual perch on his mistress's shoulders and strains to get a better look. His delight slowly turns to circumspection, and then apprehension as the number of people running around increases, and the noise gets louder. Despite the apparent calmness of his mistress and her constant soothing words, Twyl does not completely relax. His mistress introduces them in her usual manner, but no sooner does he return to his roost on her shoulders, that he spots the wolf. He freezes; panic threatens to overwhelm him; those teeth, that stare, the growl! Only Jayma's lack of concern and stroking hand stops him from fleeing in terror. When the wolf makes no aggressive moves, Twyl calms down a little. Ah, it looks like the wolf belongs to the strange little green man next to him. He was probably the man's friend, like Twyl was his mistress's. He wonders if it'll be friends with him too?
Twyl watches as the strange shambling men with the glowing eyes climb up the cliff. Through their empathic connection, he feels a certain tenseness from his mistress that tells him she's expecting trouble. He then does what he always does in such situations; he dives head-first into his mistress's backpack and braces for the explosions and screaming that are bound to follow.
Twyl starts in surprise as the jaguar seemingly appears out of nowhere and leaps over him. He takes to the air and lands on a nearby stay, alternately chittering to himself and squealing at the big cat in admonishment. Despite his every effort, the cat always seemed to find a way to sneak up on him and catch him unawares. It was yet another round of a long game of tit-for-tat that they'd been playing to while away the time on the boat. Twyl was so far behind in the standings that he'd given up counting long ago. He suspected that the few victories he'd achieved over the jaguar had been pity wins to keep him from giving up altogether.
Twyl had immediately recognized the sturdy-looking hairy fellow with all the weapons when he and his mistress had first come aboard. It had been on a different boat when they'd last seen him, and in a place where the weather was a lot warmer, but it was definitely the same person. He remembered the dwarf sneaking him bits of jerky and other treats from time to time, so he had no qualms about taking the proffered egg and scarfing it down. His mistress also seemed very much at ease in the dwarf's presence, so he knew that there was nothing to be wary about.
Twyl tended to stay pretty close to his mistress while on board. He'd quickly learned that it was best not to run about the deck by oneself unless one particularly enjoyed having one's tail stepped on. The large cat that came aboard with the strange rough-looking man had been of great concern at first, but over the following days and weeks they'd formed a wary friendship. When not sleeping or trying to keep his mistress entertained, Twyl would take to the air with his small wings and fly up into the rigging where he would scamper along the spars or climb up and down the stays and shrouds. Occasionally, he would find a rat scurrying about its business or a bird would land nearby, but they didn't seem all that happy to see him and quickly left when he tried to approach and make friends with them. At first, his mistress would regularly send him up to the crow's nest to scan the horizon while she tagged along with him mentally. He never knew exactly what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she didn't see it very often. Over time, these shared vigils at the top of the mainmast became less and less frequent.
Twyl had long since recovered from the shock of seeing his mistress covered in blood after that last fight with the nasty sea creatures. It had really shocked him at first; he'd never seen his mistress so badly wounded before. He was quite relieved when Bitey's master, the funny looking one with the sharp teeth, fixed her up; he didn't know what he would have done if she'd died. His mistress tosses him another piece of strange fruit, and he takes to the air to catch it before it hits the floor. He'd let the first couple hit the ground and only with some prompting did he eventually give them a taste. They had been delicious and he now looked forward to the next treat that was thrown his way. Twyl had tried to interest Bitey in the fruit, but the owl had steadfastly refused. Apparently Bitey was not a big fan of fruit. He much preferred the small rodents that his master fed him. His loss, though Twyl as he eagerly chewed into another piece of fruit.
Twyl scoots back a little when the owl hops towards him menacingly. He unfurls his wings ready to leave, but holds off when the bird stops short. He watches as the owl then flies into the rigging. Wow, there was a whole playground of ropes and wood to enjoy up there. Seeing Bitey make room for him, he flies up and lands next to him on the rope. Fortunately, the rope is nice and thick and it only takes a few moments for him to get his balance. The view was much nicer up here. He chitters at the owl to express his happiness at finding a new friend.
Twyl is a little wary of the small owl at first and watches him carefully from the safety of his mistress's shoulders. When Ionic hands him a bit of jerky, he grabs at it eagerly, and before his mistress can call him off, stuffs it into his mouth and starts chewing. Yum! He goes back to watching the owl. His mistress had apparently noticed his attentions, because she gives Twyl a mental message telling him it was ok to go say hello and see if the bird wants to be his friend. Twyl doesn't need any further prompting and flies off her shoulders to land near the owl on the deck. He approaches carefully, twitching his nose in greeting, but ready to fly off at the slightest sign of danger.
As they near the harbor, the steadily increasing activity around them initially delights Twyl. He hops up on his haunches from his usual perch on his mistress's shoulders and strains to get a better look. His delight slowly turns to circumspection, and then apprehension as the number of people running around increases, and the sounds of tools clanging and people shouting gets louder and louder. Despite the apparent calmness of his mistress and her constant soothing words, Twyl is a bit of a nervous wreck by the time they finally reach the boat. Once on the main deck and away from the worst of the harbor noise and activity, Twyl begins to calm down. His mistress introduces them in her usual manner, but no sooner does he return to his roost on her shoulders, that he spots the owl. "Oh no, not again!" he thinks, but doesn't immediately panic like last time. For one thing, this owl seemed a lot smaller than Silence, and thus less likely to eat him. Also, Jayma's lack of concern and stroking hand convinces him that there is no danger from it. Ah, it looks like the bird belongs to that strange sharp-toothed creature next to it. The owl was probably the creature's friend, like Twyl was his mistress's. He wonders if the owl will be friends with him too?
Twyl pokes his nose out of the backpack when the noise dies down, and then hops back onto his mistress's shoulders when she gives him the all-clear. From his vantage point, he once again watches as she casts spell after spell onto the advancing horde. He does his best to snap his jaws and flick his long tail to keep the flying bugs from biting his mistress. After their last adventure, he knows all too well how much she hates nasty little biting insects like these. As they hear the main gate start to groan under the repeated blows, his mistress commands him to fly up to the top of the high tower behind her where he'll be able to safely watch the action below.
Seeing all the menacing creatures stumbling towards the castle, Twyl was somewhat apprehensive at first, but his mistress was clearly not the least bit worried. She was actually quite excited by what was to come. Pretty soon, her excitement turned to glee as she started raining spell after spell down on the nasty looking monsters below, laughing wildly the whole time. After a short while, Twyl relaxed a little and continued to watch all the excitement from his usual place on her shoulders. He enjoyed it when his mistress was in a good mood, and she was currently in a very good mood indeed. He heard the cry at the same time as his mistress. Her mood switched from glee to concern as she ran along the walls, and Twyl started to become anxious. When she finally stopped running, he could see that some of the nasty hollow people had climbed onto the wall. His mistress's mood soured further as she watched her friends fighting the creatures, and he knew that things had taken a turn for the worse. As he always did in these situations, he dove into his mistress's backpack to wait things out.
When he notices that his mistress is heading back to the same building as she'd visited the other day, Twyl perks up. The last time they were there, he had been sleeping, but had woken up just in time to catch a glimpse of all the rats looking back at him as they left. He wondered if they would be there again. He looks about the room, but finds it hard to see well, so he sits back on his hind legs and stretches up for a better view. He spotted one! then another! They did not behave like the rats he had run into in the past. These did not screech in fear at the sight of him and run away like those others; these stopped and looked up at him in interest. He wondered if they were friendly. His mistress sends him a mental command, <play with them only, do not hurt them>, and releases him to go say hello. Not needing a second prompt, Twyl literally flies off her shoulders and carries himself over to the floor near where a couple of the rats have gathered. He approaches slowly, face close to the floor to sniff at them and be sniffed by them. He lets them approach and touch his white fur and long tail. After the ice is broken, they spend the rest of the time running around the room after each other squeeking and generally having a good time. The rats become interested in his wings, so he shows them how they work by having them hop on his back and flying them around the store, something they couldn't seem to get enough of. He could see a few more rats holding back near the nice lady, and didn't know why they didn't join the fun as well. Maybe next time they could play too. He was wondering how many of them he could carry on his back and still get off the ground. All too soon, it is time to leave, and his mistress calls him back to her. He could tell she was in a really good mood today, which always made things a lot easier on him, and pretty much everyone else as well.
When Twyl hears the buzzing and sees the large bugs take to the air, his first thought is, "Oh, no. Not big flying bugs... again." He then does what he always does when monsters appear; he dives head-first into his mistress's backpack and braces for the explosions and screaming that are bound to follow.
By the end of the voyage, Twyl had explored every corner of the boat, and with Silence's help, had hunted down and dispatched all but the canniest rodents aboard. His mistress was in a bad mood most of the time and didn't keep him on as tight a leash as normal. He saw no reason to provoke her ire, so generally left her alone unless called. The children, especially the girl, occasionally sought him out to play, but they tended to be a little rougher with him than he preferred, so he didn't make a habit of it. When they finally docked, he answered Jayma's call and returned to his usual roost across her shoulders. He didn't understand what happened with the children and the masked man on the dock, but could feel his mistress relax when the first man left. One thing he did know though is that he did not trust the robed men with the masks; a feeling he communicated to his mistress through their shared mental link. He made a mental note to stay out of their way.
As they near the harbor, the steadily increasing activity around them initially delights Twyl. He hops up on his haunches from his usual perch on his mistress's shoulders and strains to get a better look. His delight slowly turns to circumspection, and then apprehension as the number of people running around increases, and the sounds of tools clanging and people shouting gets louder and louder. Despite the apparent calmness of his mistress and her constant soothing words, Twyl is a bit of a nervous wreck by the time they finally reach the boat. Once on the main deck and away from the worst of the harbor noise and activity, Twyl begins to calm down, but another surprise awaits, though he doesn't see it at first. His mistress introduces them in her usual manner, but no sooner does he return to his roost on her shoulders, that he spots the owl. He freezes; panic threatens to overwhelm him; that beak, those eyes, that screech! Only Jayma's lack of concern and stroking hand stops him from fleeing in terror. When the owl makes no aggressive moves, Twyl calms down a little. Ah, it looks like the bird belongs to that tall lady next to him. He was probably the lady's friend, like Twyl was his mistress's. He wonders if it'll be friends with him too?
When his mistress puts on her angry voice to confront the blue creatures, Twyl thinks, "Uh, oh." He didn't know what these creatures had done, but he was very happy not to be one of them at that moment. Knowing how things usually went in these situations, Twyl slinks back into the backpack to avoid all the screaming and blood splattering that was to come.
When the sounds of battle die down a little, Twyl sticks his head out of the backpack to see what's going on. He watches as Flute kills a super large mosquito thingy that was attacking her and with a high-pitched squeal, raises a small paw in exultation at her kill. His joy is cut short though when he notices Flute's bleeding injury. He's wondering what he could do to help, but his mistress takes off deeper into the cave at a quick clip. Twyl hopes that his friend will be okay.
When Twyl sees that they're about to head into a cave, he gets a little excited. He's always been very comfortable underground and much like his mistress, had no trouble seeing in pitch darkness. Through their empathic connection, Twyl could feel a certain tenseness from his mistress that told him she was expecting trouble ahead. This was usually a sign that he should seek shelter, so he slides off her shoulders and slips into the backpack to wait things out.
Twyl starts reflexively when he hears Peaches's howls in the distance. He looks about for a moment but has trouble determining their direction. He hops up on his haunches, leaps off Jayma's shoulder, and takes to the air. Flying up through the increasingly dense clouds of mosquitoes is like swimming in syrup, but he finally manages to get high enough to see where the dog's barking is coming from. It looks like Peaches was in some serious trouble. Those giant mosquito things did not look like they wanted to play nice. He returns to his mistress and empathically communicates the direction to her. She would know what to do to help the friendly dog. Maybe after all this was over, he would get to play with Peaches after all.
Twyl was bored. He'd tried to get the attention of the strange sick man they'd picked up earlier, but without any luck. He was too far gone to notice. All this walking about and talking by his mistress and the others was not very exciting, and the constant presence of all these insects was getting to be oppressive. He was doing his best to keep them from biting his mistress, but it was a bit of a lost cause.
After running around and exploring the trees with the funny dolls for a while, Twyl returns to his mistress and soon gets bored. He decides to see what Flute is doing. Maybe the falcon was up for playing a game or something. Maybe they could go for a quick fly around to see if there was anything interesting to see further away. He wasn't sure if his mistress would let him wander too far, but sometimes she didn't seem to be paying that much attention to Twyl and he got to play hooky for a bit.
Twyl had remained on his mistress's shoulders for a while, but as the day wore on and there was nothing interesting to see except trees and more trees, he got sleepy and went for a snooze in the backpack. He was having a really nice dream where he was playing games with Flute and Peaches, when his mistress calls. He instantly pops awake, flies out of the backpack, and dives off her shoulder into her open hands. Looking up at her face, he wondered what new bit of excitement awaited him.
Given the general lack of explosions and screaming, Twyl figures that things are probably calming down. He peeks out from the cover he'd found and sees that everyone still seems to be standing pretty where they were before. He notices his mistress disengage from the lady with the dog, and shoots back to her as soon as he receives the all clear.
At Twyl's query about playing with Peaches, his mistress had given her empathic assent. No sooner had he scampered down to the ground though than the dog became agitated. It seems that his mistress was up to her old tricks again. Twyl is well used to these sudden mood changes, and scoots away to a safe distance to wait it out. Either things would calm down or all hell would break lose; in his experience, both outcomes were equally likely.
Flute sits on Finn's shoulder, observing the dog cautiously. Noticing how Twyl is unsure, she nudges for the familiar to make his advances if he wants to, letting Twyl know that she will be here, watching, in case anything goes wrong. Like a larger older sister. Twyl notices that Flute is also interested in the dog and how friendly it might be. The familiar is still not sure how to proceed though; some dogs were really nice, but some would tear your throat out in an instant if you got within range. In his indecision, he decides to ask his mistress. He chitters lightly and touches her mind expressing his curiosity and apprehension about the dog to her through their empathic link.
Twyl perks up at the sight of the dog. It had fur the same color as his! How exciting. It seemed friendly too. He looks over at Flute to see what the bird's reaction is. Maybe this could be a new friend for both of them. He wasn't sure about the lady though. He could tell that his mistress was suspicious of her, so perhaps now wasn't the time to make a new friend.
Twyl was having so much fun with Flute that he'd been avoiding Jayma's faint mental pokes. The last call was a lot stronger though and could not be ignored. With a small sigh, he waves a hand to the falcon and flies off in the direction of his mistress. He hopes the tall man and his bird will be coming along on whatever adventure his mistress is about to begin.
Having finished off the food that Flute had scrounged for them, Twyl wonders what they could do next for fun. He becomes interested in the falcon's wings and wonders why they have to be so big. His much smaller wings seemed to work just fine for him. He flicks out his wings and hovers off the ground a few inches to show the bird that he too can fly.
Twyl starts in surprise at the sound of Flute's whistle and eyes the falcon wearily as it waddles over to where his mistress is sitting. What was he trying to tell him with his wing? Maybe it wanted to be friends! Excited by the possibility, Twyl slides off his perch and scoots down to the floor. He hops over to Flute, stopping short of the bird. Twyl waits a moment in case his mistress calls him back, and then, trilling lightly, slowly stretches his long body towards the falcon. Hello bird.
Twyl shivers slightly as the temperature in the room seems to dip a few degrees. The entrance of the rough looking gnome had woken him up and he could tell immediately that his mistress was not taking kindly to the new arrival. He really hoped things wouldn't get too ugly. Just in case though, he quickly scanned the room for a suitably reinforced hiding place.
At his mistress's short squeal, Twyl starts from his doze. Blinking a little in confusion he looks around. It appears that his mistress was in unusually good spirits tonight. He was happy for her, and for himself; things tended to go a lot more smoothly for everyone when his mistress was in an agreeable mood. He puts his head down again and returns to his nap.
Twyl was enjoying a nice post-meal snooze when he was rudely jolted awake by the loud clanging of hammers on anvils. Oh no, this he did not like; no, not at all. Looking nervously about, he sees the exit and wonders if he should make a break for it. His mistress's soothing words calm him down. Just in case though, he keeps his eye on the exit the whole time they're making their way through the smithy. Once they arrived in the room at the top of the stairs, another surprise awaited, though he didn't see it at first. His mistress introduces them in her usual manner, but no sooner does he return to his roost on her shoulders, that he spots the falcon. He freezes; panic threatens to overwhelm him; that beak! Only Jayma's lack of concern and stroking hand stops him from fleeing in terror. When the falcon makes no aggressive moves, Twyl calms down again. Ah, it looks like the bird belongs to that tall man he's perched on. He was probably the man's friend, like Twyl was his mistress's. I wonder if it'll be friends with me?
Twyl is happy to hear the fightning come to a stop, and as his mistress starts walking across the clearing, he pokes his head out of the backpack for a look. Not long after reaching the others, Twyl feels a strange poking sensation as if something else is in the backpack with him. Startled, he flies out of the backpack and huddles in his mistress's arms for protection. He is very surprised to see a small person follow him out of the backpack. How had he not noticed this creature earlier? He relaxes a little when he realizes that his mistress is not alarmed by its appearance. Just another strange happening that is part and parcel of accompanying his mistress across the world he guessed.
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