“Kweh!â€
“So that is what the whistle does!†Kiht exclaimed as she examined the instrument, and the chocobo that had just approached her soon after she blew it.
The chocobo stood before Kiht; it was young one, but certainly not a chick. It had a saddle on it which meant that it had been trained and domesticated. However, there were no banners, markings or flags on the bird to indicate who it belonged to. Obviously, to whoever lost the whistle.
Kiht looked back to the chocobo with the whistle still held in her fingers. “I am not your master...â€
“Wark!â€
“Just because I found this whistle does not mean I have to suddenly become your master as if it were ordained by the fates.â€
“Beep!â€
“It is not like this is some kind of fantasy tale that might be told to children every dawn. I do not need another mouth to worry about feeding.â€
“Woheehaw!â€
“Gods you make a lot of annoying sounds! Quit bothering me.†Kiht then threw the whistle past the chocobo in an attempt to make it chase the object. The chocobo's head followed the whistle as it flew by, but the bird's body did not move from the spot. When the whistle crashed into a bush, the chocobo turned its head back to Kiht. “Kweh!â€
“Ha! You are out of new sounds to make! Now be gone; I hate birds!†Kiht waved her hand dismissively.
“Kweeeehhhh...â€
“Changing the way you make the sound does not make it a different sound! But it was a good effort, you idiotic creature.â€
“Wohee!â€
“Hmmmm, very wel- wait a... You just made half a sound that you had already made before, did you not?
“..............â€
“Well, go and spit it out then! You are not fooling me.â€
“Haw!â€
“I thought as such.†Kiht put her hands on her hips and knit her brows at the big bird. “Now what have you?â€
The chocobo bent its knees, and lowered itself closer to the ground. It then motioned its head towards the saddle on its back.
“How do you even exist? You are a kind of loud, flightless, bright yellow birds with the cleverness of Ground Squirrels. You should have been extinct long ago.†Kiht lectured with crossed arms, and a disapproving scowl.
The chocobo simply motioned its head towards the saddle again.
“The ONLY reason I would take to your saddle is if I was desperately in need of a mount. I currently am not.â€
Suddenly, a pack of six Shroud Wolves crashed through the nearby brush. They began barking, growling and snarling with the fur on their emaciated forms standing on end. Their toothed maws were foaming and drooling.
Kiht and the chocobo had obviously made too much noise; thus, attracting unwanted attention. She stood motionless for a brief moment; locked in a cross-armed posture, but her expression changed to one of shock.
“Kweh kweh?†The chocobo motioned towards its saddle once more.
The gods have a vicious sense of humor, and Kiht seemed to be a frequent target of it. She then darted to the chocobo.
Kiht held onto the saddle for dear life at first. The chocobo was running and navigating the terrain with ease as it bound through brush, across clearings and around rocks and trees. The wolves were left in the dust.
Despite fluctuating elevations, the chocobo hardly slowed. With the wind blowing through Kiht's hair, her feelings of fear were washed away as she quickly got caught up in the thrill of the ride.
“Whoo! You run like the wind, bird!â€
From that moment on, Kiht's faithful chocobo would be known as Windrunner.
“So that is what the whistle does!†Kiht exclaimed as she examined the instrument, and the chocobo that had just approached her soon after she blew it.
The chocobo stood before Kiht; it was young one, but certainly not a chick. It had a saddle on it which meant that it had been trained and domesticated. However, there were no banners, markings or flags on the bird to indicate who it belonged to. Obviously, to whoever lost the whistle.
Kiht looked back to the chocobo with the whistle still held in her fingers. “I am not your master...â€
“Wark!â€
“Just because I found this whistle does not mean I have to suddenly become your master as if it were ordained by the fates.â€
“Beep!â€
“It is not like this is some kind of fantasy tale that might be told to children every dawn. I do not need another mouth to worry about feeding.â€
“Woheehaw!â€
“Gods you make a lot of annoying sounds! Quit bothering me.†Kiht then threw the whistle past the chocobo in an attempt to make it chase the object. The chocobo's head followed the whistle as it flew by, but the bird's body did not move from the spot. When the whistle crashed into a bush, the chocobo turned its head back to Kiht. “Kweh!â€
“Ha! You are out of new sounds to make! Now be gone; I hate birds!†Kiht waved her hand dismissively.
“Kweeeehhhh...â€
“Changing the way you make the sound does not make it a different sound! But it was a good effort, you idiotic creature.â€
“Wohee!â€
“Hmmmm, very wel- wait a... You just made half a sound that you had already made before, did you not?
“..............â€
“Well, go and spit it out then! You are not fooling me.â€
“Haw!â€
“I thought as such.†Kiht put her hands on her hips and knit her brows at the big bird. “Now what have you?â€
The chocobo bent its knees, and lowered itself closer to the ground. It then motioned its head towards the saddle on its back.
“How do you even exist? You are a kind of loud, flightless, bright yellow birds with the cleverness of Ground Squirrels. You should have been extinct long ago.†Kiht lectured with crossed arms, and a disapproving scowl.
The chocobo simply motioned its head towards the saddle again.
“The ONLY reason I would take to your saddle is if I was desperately in need of a mount. I currently am not.â€
Suddenly, a pack of six Shroud Wolves crashed through the nearby brush. They began barking, growling and snarling with the fur on their emaciated forms standing on end. Their toothed maws were foaming and drooling.
Kiht and the chocobo had obviously made too much noise; thus, attracting unwanted attention. She stood motionless for a brief moment; locked in a cross-armed posture, but her expression changed to one of shock.
“Kweh kweh?†The chocobo motioned towards its saddle once more.
The gods have a vicious sense of humor, and Kiht seemed to be a frequent target of it. She then darted to the chocobo.
Kiht held onto the saddle for dear life at first. The chocobo was running and navigating the terrain with ease as it bound through brush, across clearings and around rocks and trees. The wolves were left in the dust.
Despite fluctuating elevations, the chocobo hardly slowed. With the wind blowing through Kiht's hair, her feelings of fear were washed away as she quickly got caught up in the thrill of the ride.
“Whoo! You run like the wind, bird!â€
From that moment on, Kiht's faithful chocobo would be known as Windrunner.
