GONE WITH THE WIND // o, prompt

[eggplant18]

//his notebook dedicated to his research on fear has been scattered everywhere for everyone to see, in short
what he writes in there can range from detailed descriptions to short, stupid things that seemingly everyone would naturally know
also it's the book he used for when he killed his sisters but y'know


Ska'arq had never once imagined that this would be the outcome of this trip as he stepped outside. The book now strapped around his ankle was more fragile than most. It had seen the most turmoil. In fact, he had been going out in search of repair methods. Nobody could have predicted the sudden gust of wind catching him on his left, bringing the beast to stumble sideways. The root that snagged the strap around his ankle was all it took.

The restraining element was torn from the yank, and Ska'arq hit the ground. Nonchalantly he stood up, searching for where the notebook could have gone when he paused. Its binding had come undone. All of the hand-crafted pages were scattered across the breeze, rolling this way and that in the ever changing breeze. His research on fear. All of it, all of his efforts, were going to waste. The situation was dire. He began to move unusually swiftly in an attempt to collect his belongings.

[align=center]ATTACK IN BOLD #6e65b5 - TAGS

[beck.]

    He had to admit, a lumbering reptile scrambling to retrieve countless pages was an amusing sight. Or it would be if said reptile expressed any sort of anger or concern over scattered information. Not to mention, it was harder to see the action below from his rooftop perch, only discerning the fuzzy purple silhouette of Ska'arq scrambling in an uncommon hurry to collect the blurred and aged-white squares fluttering away from him. A hushed snort slipped from his lungs, holding back the telltale giggle of his presence as he scooted closer to the overgrown gutter for a better view. The dragon was strange, no doubt, and gave Beck an odd wariness when he was around. Nobody could be so... blank, could they? There was nothing; no emotion, no tics, no vocal cues for the boy to read when he observed his robotic behavior. Maybe the dragon really was a robot, and was gathering data on the irradiated creatures in the wetlands.

    Conspiracies aside, there were a lot of pages still whirling around in spite of Ska'arq's quick movements. If Beck helped, would that earn a reaction from him? The outcasted dragon probably never had anybody remotely care to assist him in his life. Tapping his claws against the brick shingles in a brief argument with his thoughts, the poltergeist eventually came to a decision and clambered off the ivy-strangled roof. He somehow dropped to the earth with a silent landing, slinking outside the dragon's view towards a wrinkled page caught on a cluster of thorns. Freeing the paper from the bramble's hooks with only little punctures and tears, he caught a glimpse of the nonsensical scribble, tempted to pause and skim through it. Good thing he couldn't read their language. With a rattling sigh, Beck leaned onto his bristled haunches and held up the page above his head in an offering, wheezing towards Ska'arq, "Hey, Squawk -- ya need some help?"

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