Osteon in the Haunted Woods: Into the Woods

Crisp fallen leaves crunch pleasantly under Osteon's three-toed feet as she makes her way down the half overgrown dirt road. The sky above is clear and glittering with countless stars, the pale crescent moon doing little to light her way on this cool Autumn night. Not that this bothers her overmuch. Though one would be forgiven for thinking her milky moonstone eyes blind in fact her eyes aren't clouded by cataracts but backed with gleaming tapeta lucida, her eyeshine allowing her to count a mouse's whiskers by starlight alone.

Even in the weak moonlight Osteon is a striking sight. Twice as tall as an average human, her long neck rises above a stout body with powerful legs, a thick tapering tail, and comically tiny wings. Bone-pale runemarks cover the Casua from casque to tailtip, giving the impression that her whole skeleton is visible through her night-dark coat of feathers.

The heat of Summer is finally fading, and a thin blanket of mist curls around the gnarled tree roots at the edge of the Haunted Woods. Cricket chirping fills the air and a lone wolf howl rings out in the distance.

Sol's witch Maja has requested any who are able and brave (or foolish) enough to venture into the infamous woods to collect wisps, the luminous blue specters necessary for brewing up some useful elixirs. Few have answered her call. In addition to the useful spirits the Woods are known to harbor dangerous predators, from shaggy tarantulas half the weight of a grown man to Anaruq, great bear-sized solitary wolves. Osteon has never been afraid of such things being a rather fearsome creature herself, and so made her way from the lamplit gates of Sol to the edge of the gloomy Woods.

Mindful of the twisted roots she picks her way beneath tangled branches of the canopy. Falling leaves drift and flutter down around her to the thick carpet already blanketing the forest floor. Hear and there lights flicker in the undergrowth. The pale green of foxfire, a luminous fungus, though not her goal this night is still worth collecting. A deft twist of her talons and the fungus is tucked away in one of the baskets tied to her harness.

Hours pass, and Osteon is getting annoyed. She has managed to collect more foxfire, a cheery jar of fireflies, and even an unwary deer draped across her back, but has yet to find even a single wisp. Soon she'll have to turn back for the night and try again tomorrow. She turns to do just that, and freezes. A single, pale cerulean ethereal form drifts not three feet from her face, wings moving in slow motion, a mere suggestion of flight. An owl wisp? But no, this wisp has the long dragon tail of a Tyto, a stryx wisp! Osteon xan't believe her luck. Rare and highly prized, the reward for a stryx wisp would be a small fortune. Slowly, she reaches for her dreamcatcher net of enchanted spider silk. With a flick of her wrist, she sweeps the net at the wisp and ...