Before heading to Mt. Rephath to deliver the letter from 'Yodhsunala Gemma' to Wynona Windcaller, Alptraum needs to stash his clothing and pick up something to make him look like a trained grok instead of a feral one.
Mave is the sole occupant when he arrives, however, sitting at her vanity and brushing out her long blonde hair.
"You could shave your head," Alptraum comments as he enters through the secret stairwell. "Much easier on grooming. Or, just braid it all."
"Shaving my head would be blasphemous," Mave says, turning in her seat. She's naked of course, but looks and smells freshly washed. "Did things go well? You didn't bring back the wine."
"I delivered it to be examined," Alptraum explains and shrugs. "They're safe where I left them. And yes, all went well, I found who I needed to and stuffed them into their respective bottles."
"Would you stuff me in a bottle, only to summon me forth to grant wishes?" Mave asks coyly. "I suppose you'll want me to draw you a bath now."
"No, I would stuff you entirely differently," Alptraum claims with a toothy grin. "A bath would also be nice! It has been awhile." There he pauses and coughs, "And also, I need to have you check the more, ah, bizarre sets of clothing here. I need a grok harness."
Mave stands up, and starts to unfasten Alptraum's clothes. "A grok harness for a person, or a grok harness for a grok?" she asks.
"Well, the latter. I need to deliver a letter and I've decided to do it as a grok," Alptraum says as if this is completely normal. "You have both? Why would there be a grok harness for an Eee?"
"Obedience play," Mave explains as she works on Alptraum's pants. "The grok harnesses for groks aren't kept here, I'll have to take you to another part of the Temple for those.
Alptraum says, "Well, will the one for Eeee work for a Grok?" Alptraum has to ask. "And people really do that?""
"Oh no, I doubt the Eeee harness would work at all for a grok," Mave says, as she finishes stripping Alptraum. Then she goes over to the tub and stokes the coals in the heater before adding more water to be heated.
"This I will have to see sometime," Alptraum admits. "Because I cannot believe people are that strange."
Mave returns and starts fondling Alptraum. "It will take some time for the water to heat," she notes.
Alptraum ends up wiggling all about. "Yes, water does that," he says, sounding innocent. "I suppose we can wait."
"The whole point of bathing is that you get dirty beforehand," the Yodhinala notes, and then goes down on her knees and stops talking. At least, stops talking in an understandable way. There's a lot of humming.
Alptraum starts to protest this and continue to try and be a bit obnoxious, but Mave being Mave found a way to silence that pretty quick! It's now Alptraum trying to remember how to keep standing.
Mave does have the timing down perfectly, so that the whistle on the heater goes off at the same time as Alptraum! "Ah.. into the tub with you," she says after she gets up and mixes the hot and cold water to get something bath-appropriate.
"Well, at least I know where Nikky gets it from," Alptraum remarks and swats Mave on her behind while she's mixing the water. "And here I thought you didn't actually like doing any of those 'tasks'."
"I get bored easily down here," Mave notes, and picks up well-used bar of soap and a scrub-brush. "Now.. time for bat-soup. Into the pot!"
Alptraum gropes Mave this time. It's short, though, as he gets into the tub a few moments later. "Well, at least I am better than boredom," he comments.
And then Mave gets in with him to soap him up. She never uses the scrub brush though. Why bother when you have breasts that work just as well? This might be revenge for Alptraum's earlier teasing...
Except Alptraum has his own revenge for that! Inala's blessing means when he plays with them, Mave starts lactating. So naturally he does this.
It doesn't seem to phase the Yodhinala.. although it does mix oddly with the soap. "I may not let you dry off with a towel," Mave says with a grin.
"No? What would I use, then?" Alptraum has to ask, eyes narrow.
"And where is Catbutt these days? I haven't seen her in a while," he notes.
"Oh, just body heat," Mave claims. "Tulani is out snooping or relaxing.. or possibly working at a job. She doesn't tell me. Sometimes I think she just wishes to be away from me. Can you imagine?"
"Or she is avoiding me," Alptraum points out.
"You are hardly ever here," Mave replies, and hand washes Alptraum's tender areas.
"I stop by!" Alptraum insists, squirming. "She should be waiting with baited breath!"
"Shall I tell her that when she returns?" Mave asks. "It sounds as if you prefer her company to mine," she then notes, with a bit of a squeeze.
Alptraum squeaks! "I'm just worried about her," he claims while on his toes. "It's not about preference."
"In what way are you worried?" Mave says, and washes Alptraum's face. Again, there is milk in the soap, do to the technique Mave uses.
"I don't know what she is doing," Alptraum claims while resisting to make all sorts of silly noises. "I don't want her hurt."
"The Yodhbarada are well protected by other people's secrets," Mave claims, then slides around to wash Alptraum's back between his wings. Which also involves ear nibbling for some reason.
Alptraum's ears flick all about, making jewelry jangle. "She's not Yodhbarada, though," he points out. "She's just working with them."
"Which means she is likely being watched by them," Mave says, and washes the back of Alptraum's neck after getting hair out of the way. That probably needs washing too!
"Still, tell her I'd like to see her if she comes by," Alptraum relents, his head tilted forward and looking down.
"Oh, she'll be back later tonight I'm sure," Mave says, and washes Alptraum's hair with her hands. "She always comes back to sleep."
"With you?" Alptraum prompts. grinning.
"She sleeps by herself," Mave notes, and licks Alptraum's ear for the suggestion that it might otherwise. "I keep a close eye on her moods as well.. there is a marked difference if she has been out 'dragoning' - but I do not think she has been for some time."
"Is her mood bad, then?" Alptraum inquires and glances over his shoulder. "And maybe you should sleep with her, it might help."
"It is not a matter of good or bad," Mave notes. "She seems a bit more touchy if she has been a dragon that day, and prefers to be alone. She does not snap at me or display anger, though."
"Is she mad at me?" Alptraum has to ask.
"Doubtful," Mave replies, leaning forward and sliding her arms down Alptraum's chest. "But she may benefit from more of your attention."
"She can find me if she wants to see me," Alptraum points out as he leans back. "I'm not avoiding her. Or you."
"You're just busy," Mave points out. "But you do think of us often, I assume?"
"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Alptraum points out.
"So you will visit us more often.. to visit?" Mave whispers right into Alptraum's ear.
"If I can, yes," Alptraum replies, right before flicking that ear to bap Mave right on the nose.
"Dunk your head," Mave says. "Or I can use the bucket to rinse off your hair."
Alptraum dunks! It's safer than letting Mave use a bucket.
After the rinse, Mave tries to get him out of the tub before more soap scum can get back onto him. She does use a towel though - even if her fluffing might seem a bit exuberant. She then hands it to him and spreads out her arms and legs so he can towel her off.
Which, of course, Alptraum does. Right before he playfully pushes her over a nearby pile of towels and has a little more fun with her. "Grok style," he claims about the position chosen, of course! Role research. Right.
Mave certainly doesn't resist - Yodhinala probably don't do well with loneliness. She does remind him after that round that he still has a milk quota to deal with, then pushes him down and rides him 'Drokar Style'. Specifically a racing Drokar.. possibly one having to do hurdles as well. It takes some time afterwards before he can feel his feet again.
"So, about that harness," Alptraum prompts while wiggling his toes to try and get feeling back in them. He doesn't mention that he feels like he needs another bath after all that, at least! He's somewhat smarter than that.
"We need to visit another part of the Temple," Mave says, and ties back her hair in preparation. Which is more important, apparently, that wearing clothes. "Bring one of the lanterns, it is a dark place."
"Did you ever dress people like groks?" Alptraum has to ask as he ties his hair back. He also takes out all the jewelry he can as it won't be good to have such as a grok. So, he's going naked too, all he will carry is the pouch containing the sealed letter.
"Of course," Mave notes, leading the way up the stairs to the hidden door. "I trained Yodh to it, and also had a few patrons who enjoyed wearing it.. sometimes while cavorting with actual groks."
Alptraum blinks. "Wait, so people actually made out with groks?" he has to clarify.
"Cavort is.. not necessarily the same as being intimate," Mave notes. "Although some patrons did enjoy a bit of grok-on-Yodh action."
"Er, did you ever do that?" Alptraum now has to ask and looks at her sidelong. He doesn't mention Nicora has been intimate with Gronegk.
The ruined Temple isn't silent. Broken out windows and skylights sing in the wind. Mave leads the way to a set of stairs leading downwards, framed in an ornate carving of Eeee engaged in rather violent acts. "It was considered a rite of passage for the younger girls, before they were ready for adult men. The groks tended to be more affectionate after all. Here we are."
Alptraum arches his brow. "Well, some men aren't affectionate," he points out. He also now suspects they may be in the actual dungeon area; not a safe area of this temple.
Mave leads on down the stairs..
It's to one of the pit chambers that Mave eventually brings Alptraum. There's a post in the center, with a chain and manacle attached, and lots of filthy sand. "The harnesses should be in a side-room, near the grok pen," she explains.
"I can guess what this room was used for. I do not approve," Alptraum remarks, his tone considerably more grim than it was earlier. He heads for one of the side rooms.
"I imagine those that enjoyed such spectacle are suspiciously vanished from Babel of late," Mave notes, and opens lockers to find the harnesses. They're fairly large for a typical grok - which were fully domesticated animals, after all. Hunting groks were bred large, and the ones that the Yodhinala kept here must have been exceptional.
"And now, you have to, well, strap this stuff on me," Alptraum says as he tries to make sense of the collection of strapping.
"Do you want the spiked version or the studded one?" Mave asks, holding up two slightly different harnesses. "There are mandible cozies as well."
"Hm, good question. Probably the studded one so I don't accidentally impale people. "And what is the world is a mandible cozy?" Alptraum says, looking confused.
Mave produces what look like little leather socks.. but are meant to fit over the grasping mandibles of a grok. There are wrings attached, so that they may have served as a type of muzzle. "It doesn't take much to keep a grok's mandibles closed. All of the muscle seems devoted to snapping them closed, after all. The ones for opening them back up are far weaker," Mave explains.
"Mmmm, would it be common for an owned one to have that?" Alptraum asks.
"For the larger working breeds, yes," Mave says. "At least in polite company. Guard-groks often had extra spikes carved out of the chitin."
"Then I suppose I should have that," Alptraum admits after he thinks about it. "I am visiting Mount Rephath, after all. I don't want them to think me a threat."
At the news, Mave checks over the harnesses more closely. There aren't any surviving symbols of Inala on them - those were likely looted and the worthless harnesses left behind. "If you can manage the color, red is the preferred choice for Rephath's Temple Groks."
"I'm not intending to look like one of theirs, really. I just know they're common enough that they won't be attacked immediately. And while I can go as me, I hear the current High Priestess is still mad at me over my impressive entrance last time," Alptraum admits. "But I can likely manage colors; that's usually simple."
"As long as you act house-trained and humble, you should be fine," Mave notes, holding the studded harness and odd 'muzzle' now.
"Probably should fit as much on me now, and adjust after changing?" Alptraum suggests as he peers at the odd collection of stuff. "And don't get any ideas about doing stuff with me after the shift."
Mave looks over Alptraum. "Before the shift?" she asks uncertainly. "How big of a grok are you going to be?"
"I have no idea," Alptraum admits and sits down. "Haven't really shifted this way before without help." He then shrugs and comments, "Fine, after the shift then." Eyes close so he can concentrate and disappear into inky nothingness. He has kenned groks before, so he should have the pattern; as well as memory of that one disturbing time with Gronegk. So, it's overlaying a pattern, and trying to aim for a reddish hue.
It's hard to tell if the color is right, since a grok's 'vision' isn't in color.. since it may not even involve light. There is some color though, but it's more a representation of scent, which adds an odd sort of time dimension to things. Alptraum can 'see' Mave's path through the room, growing fainter in the 'past' as the scent disperses.
When Mave speaks, it looks like her head distorts as well. It takes a moment to process that she's said 'crimson'.
"Right, they see like the wraith does. Kind of," Groktraum thinks as it gets up to its four legs and shakes a bit to get a feel for its body, size, and weight. Mave's comment causes it to cock its head to the side and 'peer' at Mave for a bit, perhaps a little confused. That's the risk of animal forms; it does affect the mind a little.
Mave is already starting to attack the harness. The collar goes on first, then a dual strap along the back on either side of spinal 'spines'. There are little straps between them that get secured as well. A V-strap around the chest that links up to another coming from the pelvis, and the little 'cozies' that are then tied together beneath the primary jaw. Mave talks as she works, which helps Groktraum get the hange of 'hearing' things. It seems like the entire smooth skull carapace is a sound conductor, giving almost a full circle of sonic vision. But since the animal isn't sending out sonar pings, there must be another mechanism involved as well. "..ood boy. Stand still. Don't wag your tail."
Alptraum is also trying to focus on being, well, Alptraum in mind. Animal forms are tricky that way in that it's faster to devolve into instinct following and becoming the creature instead of just wearing it as a disguise. It's also disconcerting to deal with the sensory input and it's taking time to sort that out ... and even get to the point he can understand Mave. At least this means he does mostly stand still throughout, even the fitting of the odd muzzle, after which does make him twitch and snap the jaws lightly a few times. And at least he does still that tail when requested, showing he's understanding ... mostly.
The only indication that the harness is finished being attached is that Alptraum is no longer aware of it. There isn't much sensation through the overlapping layers of shell. There a slight weight difference on the left though, behind his shoulder, where Mave firmly attaches the pouch. "There you go.. do you know how to get to Mt. Rephath from here on foot?" she asks.
Alptraum first tries to say yes, but that comes out as a bizarre chittering sort of nose. So, instead he just bobs that smooth head of his to indicate he does. He had to walk to the mountains when he was here before, after all. He knows where they are by foot at least.
nose -> noise.
"I'll walk you out of the Temple then," Mave says, standing and heading for the exit from the Pits, pausing only to look back and pat her flank in a 'heel' gesture.
And in spite of himself, he obeys that gesture and walks beside, though a step behind, Mave. So, great, he has domesticated instincts and is actually respecting Mave as the 'Master'. "Just focus on remaining yourself on the trip," the creature thinks. "Take it slow and easy, watch the urges..."
Mave is clearly used to groks. She leads Alptraum out of the Temple, to the side facing the direction he needs to go anyway. Once outside, he is momentarily overwhelmed. He's only gone grok indoors, in small areas at that. Now the whole sky is above him, and the grown is beneath his claw-hooves, and it's all in color. Not the proper colors, but a psychedelic, smeary water-painting. It's that extra dimension.. scent history.. that makes it so confusing. How do groks figure out what is happening right now?
This causes him to stumble several times and shake his head. "Good lord, and I thought echolocation painted an unusual landscape," Groktraum thinks, feeling dizzy. So, he stills his movements and just sits, to try and focus on making some sort of sense of that sensory onslaught ... as well as try to figure out how to, well, filter it.
Maybe this is why some groks just seem to stare off into space, or at some uninteresting point. They're just rewinding the scene to what happened before they got there. But eventually the thicker, brighter colors win out. The stronger the color, the more recent the scent. Plant fragrances fade away, leaving just the prey ones.. or other animals. There aren't any trails in the sky at least - no Eeee have flown over the Temple. A bit more filtering, and paths become more pronounced - both for game trails and others.
Groktraum's spiny tail lashes about as things start to fall slowly into place. His head rolls to 'look' at Mave. A short nod, and then he rises and starts off in the direction of Mount Rephath. At least all that time as a hog has taught him how to walk on four limbs without falling on his face or tripping over himself. "Focus," is the mantra he repeats over and over in his mind. Occasionally his name, too. It's all about keeping stronger thoughts active and not letting instinct take over and cloud the brain.
There are distractions along the way. Someone is hunting with groks - or poaching, if the Temples were still really enforcing such things - along with animals, bugs, strange sounds (which make ripples in grok-vision) a swarm of chibix and the massive cloud left by a herd of Rughrats that came through the area a day or two past. But things calm down as Mt. Rephath is scaled. Very little seems to come this way, and the Eeee all have to follow the same path to the Temple. The sky is a lot more colorful though.
And the Yodh patrol it more than the more deserted mountains like Mount Inala. Groktraum sticks to the path up since it is the 'safe' route. He also does realize the challenge ahead; how is he going to find Wynona once up there. He doesn't know her scent, not like this. He might have to try and tap the sussing sense instead to find a familiar mind. But, that's if he even gets up there; the Yodh might try to stop him after all.\
There are people on the path - less likely pilgrims as people with grievances to report. None of them react with alarm to the grok in their midst. And Groktraum can begin to sense their moods - it's not that different from aura reading, it's just an aura made up of pheromones. Most people are nervous, anxious.. and desperate. A small few are angry. Nobody seeks out the Yodhrephath without a very good reason.
Groktraum is polite in that he weaves around the pilgrims and makes sure to not brush up against them. People seeking justice, revenge, or a mix. It's a common emotion and everyone feels it sometime. Right now he cannot stop to try and suss out the why, only use them as a means by which to get a little better with his senses. So, it's slower going up the trail for him since he's studying the people's pheromones as he goes.
Distance is an issue.. things seem to haze out. But he can also traverse the path a lot more quickly than an Eeee on foot. And when the Temple becomes more defined, so does the object floating next to it. The giant airship isn't still - the winds make it bob and sway, that makes its stand out to a grok, even if the outline ripples. It's a loud ripple though. Big predator is the signal Groktraum feels from it.
"Dangerous ship," Groktraum thinks. He didn't need instinct to tell him that ship is dangerous; it's the primary patrol vessel of the Yodh, after all. But, it is interesting the senses can also perceive that somehow. Maybe more of scent? Lingering aggression?
Soon the pteras become evident.. even though they aren't visible. But they're in their pens inside the ship itself, and the grok knows exactly where. He can still see their scent-ghosts on the great spars where they'd be harnessed for flight.
Slowly, Groktraum is starting to appreciate the power of these senses. No wonder Groks are known for their tracking prowess. It's enough that he almost slips a few times and goes to a much more baser instinct of mind. Fortunately, though, that regular thought-drone of 'focus' helps him snap out of it. The hog was easier in this because it didn't have nearly as much sensory feed driving instinct.
If the ptera's have just been bunked, then the ship may just landed - which means his target.. that is, Wynona.. might still be aboard.
So ... how to get to the ship. Go to the docks? Will they let a grok onboard? Only one way to find out ... so Gorktraum heads in that direction.
There are several landing ramps, but only one seems to be in use. Uniformed men are leading several prisoners - Groktraum and see-smell the blood and fear from them. Not all of the blood is their's though, there are older scents of it on them. Pirates. A few Yodhrephath join from the rear, as they march towards the Temple proper.
This catches Groktraum's interest. What did these people do? So, in spite of himself and his mission, he ends up following the prisoners and the escorts instead for a bit. Do they still use horrible punishments for pirates, he wonders. Death by Horrib is pretty horrible, even if Nicora is taken with being a host-carrier of the creatures.
The prisoners are taken down into the sunken area.. and aren't just tossed down, since their wings are bound. Two Eeee fly them down so they land on their feet. They're then taken to the center, while one of the Yodhrephath walks ahead towards the statue of Rephath. She flies up, and hands a scroll to another woman there - this one with a very cold sort of aura. One that screams 'master' to grok-sense. The woman unrolls the scroll and reads it. The chamber seems so much dimmer to Groktraum than the outdoors did.
Groktraum slows his pace, only daring to try and get close enough to hear what is being said, but not necessarily be seen. Who is the woman, he wonders. Is it someone he has met before. The feeling of seeing her as 'master' is unsettling; the desire to submit to someone always is and when it comes from instincts, doubly so.
The figure's apparent lack of emotion - and economy of regular motion - makes her indistinct feature wise. The Yodh and soldiers are much clearer, and Groktraum can tell they've been in battle recently. The 'master' then reads out three names from the scroll, and other Yodhrephath fly up to the hanging scrolls and call out when they've found matches. The master gestures, and three of the prisoners are separated and led off, leaving two. Their names are read off, and the woman addresses them, asking, "Are you ready to confess to your crimes? And know full well that attempting to deceive a judge carries severe consequences."
Now that the voice is clearer, Groktraum is certain it is High Priestess Koldesh.
Groktraum settles on his haunches to listen. He should not interfere, no matter what his desires might be. This is not his place, even though he does have somesay regarding Death after all. Just ... not so much as a bug-dog.
The two men drop to their knees and beg mercy, claiming to be captured and conscripted. The men to either side clearly think otherwise, as Groktraum can smell their anger. Clearly they didn't fight like conscripts.
Groktraum tries to cheat by calling up the sussing sense if possible, to see if he can feel if they are lying. Or perhaps if they smell like they are? What does a lie smell like? Fear is easy.
"You clearly have heavy hearts," Koldesh says. "Take them to the Confessional to lighten their burden, and confirm their names. All men have transgressions.. we will determine if yours merit punishment or.. a chance for redemption." The priestess seems uncomfortable uttering that last word.
"Not something they used to offer. Interesting they are trying it now," Groktraum thinks. It's ... pleasing; it means people may understand things, and people, can be fixed if given the chance. Sometimes anyway.
The other two are led off by Yodh, and once they are gone the soldiers and other Yodhrephath from the Vigilant Eye approach to give their report. Apparently they found an airship outside of the predefined flight lanes. At first they claimed to have suffered an engine failure, but they were also seen dumping things over the side of the deck when a ptera patrol approached them originally. They were approached by the Vigilant Eye as presumed smugglers, but the crew fired on the the boarding party. After that.. well, there were five survivors. Efforts were underway to recover what was thrown over.
"Five," Groktraum thinks. The sea will sing tonight with the cries of those fallen, then. He hopes he won't hear it, but with his duties, who knows what he may be called for. He understands the realities of the world and the consequences of actions, but it doesn't make it any easier for him; not when he's had enough dreams of sitting with the dying anyway. It's hard to hate most when their time ends, only those truly horrible can still be hated then. The novelty of the trip in this form makes way for a feeling of somberness.
"What are you doing here?" a voice asks from the temple entry, as an arriving Yodh spots the grok. "Waiting for your master?" she asks, and then gestures towards the groups reporting to the High Priestess.
The grok's head swivels to look at the calling voice curiously. He can't really use an Eeee method of answering by shaking his head, to that head just tilts and looks confused instead.
"You can't be in here," the Yodh explains. At least when talking to an animal, the tone is warmer than when addressing anyone else. "Come on, you have to wait outside, or back on the ship." She makes a follow-me gesture.
Groktraum figures it is best to follow; disobedience is probably frowned upon in Groks here. So, he rises from his haunches and follows the Yodh outside. "Heh, so they're at least kind to animals," he thinks.
This one smells kind anyway. But the Yodh don't use groks in battle - only for tracking. Wherever they keep them, they aren't in range of Groktraum's senses at the moment. The Yodhrephath leads Groktraum to the landing ramp, and then gestures several time up along it. "Go on.. go home.. wait there for your master."
Groktraum looks to the Yodh for a moment. Then he does something; he licks her hand with a quick dart of his blue tongue in this form and then darts up the ramp!
"Eh.. nice grok.." the Yodh says, and then pulls out a rag from within her robes to wipe off the hand. Clearly wiping it on the robe itself would be a no-no. There are a few soldiers still on the deck of the ship, and more motion from atop the forecastle. Groktraum knows someone is up there, but can't see them yet.
Groktraum assumes the captain he met before is on the ship somewhere, and it's possible Wynona may be in that vicinity. So, he heads towards the forecastle. He moves to try and give wide berth to the soldiers on board. He doesn't need too much close examination.
Nobody pays more than cursory attention to the harnessed grok. They're busy performing what seems to be maintenance on the ballistas. There isn't anyone on the ramp up to the forecastle deck though. He can hear low sounds coming from it.
So ... up the ramp the Grok trots! "Well, it was a good disguise," he thinks. Much less conspicuous than coming as himself.
The top deck has several magic circles engraved into it, with glowing crystals in a few of them. A figure sits cross-legged in the central circle, chanting while holding another crystal. It's female under the armor - something obvious via pheromones. It could be Wynona. The more she chants, the clearer her face becomes.
Groktraum assumes it is Wynona ... but approaches carefully. He knows it is not good to break a circle or distract a mage while they work. Well, unless you want their spell to backfire on them anyway.
It's a waiting game. The mage is focused on charging up the crystal in her lap, which takes several minutes. She then stops and rubs at her throat. "Should have brought something to drink," she mutters. But her speaking voice is familiar, at least.
Groktraum chirps softly in this interim in the chanting to see if it can get Wynona's attention.
"Ah!" the woman squeaks and spins to face the grok, one hand on a dagger handle. Then she blinks. "Oh.. I wish they'd put bells on you things," she says, and shivers slightly. "I can't believe you're somebody's pet. Well.. are you here for me or.. just like the sound of my voice?" she asks.
Groktraum rises and walks over, careful to not step on the circle's lines. He plants his forefeet, then backs up his behind so that he stretches out, almost mimicking a respectful bow to the woman. It also hopefully makes the pouch on his more visible. "Thing indeed," Groktraum thinks, amused.
Wynona gets to her feet.. which involves shaking them out. "I really need a cushion," she complains, then notices the pouch after the odd stretch. Clearly, she is not that familiar with groks. "Is that for me?" she asks, and leaves the circle to tentatively reach for the pouch, keeping a wary eye on the grok's barbed tail.
Groktraum keeps the tail low and remains in the 'bowed' position. As for answering that question, all he can do is make a short chitter of a sound.
Still wary, Wynona opens the pouch and finds the rolled letter. She pulls it out and tentatively pats the grok on the less spiky part of its head. Then she sees the seal.. which is just a blob of wax with no imprint. "I really hope this is for me.." she says, and snaps the wax so she can unroll the message.
Once the letter has been removed and Wynona has drawn back a bit, Groktraum rises to stand, then lowers its backside to sit. The barbed tail flicks from side to side slowly as he waits, curious as to the reaction. He probably shouldn't be, but he does wonder how Wynona feels about her cousin.
Wynona is biting her lip as she reads, and sniffling often. Her eyes go wide at one part. "Oh.. I don't think I'll be able to do that.." she says quietly. Once she finishes, she rolls the scroll back up and slips into a pouch on her belt. She sits back down on the deck and wipes at her nose, then remembers the grok. "Oh.. you're still here. Are you waiting to take my reply back?" she asks, with somewhat hopeful tone.
Even though Groktraum shouldn't nod as it might give away this isn't an ordinary grok ... he does so anyway. He then settles down on his stomach to wait. "If I blew my cover, so be it," he thinks. "Maybe I should have wagged? I don't know grok behavior!"
Wynona takes a deep breath. "Well.. I can't write it here.. can you follow me?" she asks, getting up again.
Groktraum rises and moves to stand at Wynona's side, just one step behind. The grok went into 'heel' without the direct command to.
"You're very well trained.. but I suppose you'd have to be to able to find me.." Wynona says, and leads the way back to the main deck, only to turn and open one of the doors into the forecastle itself. There's a short hallway, and a tiny cabin off to one side. It looks like a closet with cabinets lining the walls, but the Eeee manages to unfold a bench and small writing desk from from the mass of drawers and doors. It takes a bit longer before she has ink and paper though.
Groktraum tries to stay out of the way, but at some point ends up slightly having to lie on her feet anyway to fit in the room. Oh well, at least he isn't spikey on the underside. "So far, so good," he thinks, trying to keep his brain working. While he waits, he focuses on all the odd senses to give him something to do.
There's a tapping sound from the desk, but none of the scritch-scratch of writing. "How do you start something like this?" Wynona ponders. "Dearest Cousin.. but we're both Yodh.. and I have to think of something only she would know too. And.. how do I tell her that I can't forward her apology to someone that.. that is dead last I heard. Officially dead, anyway. Just like my cousin is 'officially' dead. Gah! Fine.. dearest cousin it is! Because it's true.." Finally the scratching sounds start, along with more sniffles.
Groktraum continues to wait ... and try to not drool on her feet while he waits. Those jaws of his are ... a bit to get used to. Two parts are more than enough! Why do the bugs have to have more? He's at least feeling good that she does care about her cousin.
It takes time. There are points where Wynona has to stop and do some sort of calming exercise. It's almost an hour before she's finished. Instead of blowing or sanding the ink, she actually casts a cantrip to dry it, then it's rolled up and some of the candle wax applied. She even uses her guild signet to mark the seal. It's when she tries to stand up that she realizes there's a grok on her feet and nearly falls over. "Bwah!" she blurts out, but there are plenty of things to grab onto for support in the narrow space.
Groktraum has kept his sanity by counting to one thousand forward, than backward. Of course this comes to a quick end when Wynona stands and nearly falls over! His legs scrabble about as he quickly tries to get to his feet and support her without, well, impaling her! It was such a good idea to not wear the spiked harness...
Things are sorted out quickly enough. "I forgot you were down there," Wynona says apologetically. "I hope I didn't kick you?" Yes, the mage is unfamiliar with groks, which are very well armored.
Grotraum just looks up and her and tilts his head. The universal sign for confused, that.
"Yeah, I get that look a lot," Wynona says with a sigh, then puts the letter into the grok's pouch and cinches it back up. "Alright, I don't know how you found me, but I'm sure you can find Cry- .. Gemma.. again, right? The one who sent you?" she asks.
This time Groktruam wags his spikey tail a little. Hopefully Wynona will take that as a yes.
"Do I need to give you anything else?" the woman asks. "A grok-treat? I.. I have no idea what you eat. I've got some honey-baked beetles, if that sounds appetizing?"
Groktraum instead just looks at the door. He's also debating something else; using that barb tail it has and the ink on the desk to try and skecth the symbol the streets are using for the Barsunala on a scrap of paper up there, just to see how she reacts ... but he also has no idea if he has that fine grain of control either! So, probably not a good idea.
The mage fishes a rumpled bag from one of the cabinets, and holds out a cooked bug.. bending over to make it lower than the grok's head.
Groktraum sniffs it. And then wonders if in this body he can actually eat something like that. The scent should give a clue, maybe?
It smells edible, if a bit sweet. Groks eat just about anything, after all.. but prefer meat.
Groktraum ... gives it a try and tries to delicately take it into his mandibles. "I won't puke that quickly, at least. I've made myself sturdier by serving Gorphat!" he thinks. Wow, what a justification for that.
It's very crunchy, and half of it falls out while Groktraum tries to chew it.. he really isn't familiar with how groks actually use their mouths. Still, he doesn't feel queasy from what little he swallowed.
"Ah.. good.. good.. boy?" Wynona says, and tries to pat the grok's head again. Rubbing it probably wouldn't even register.
Groktraum tries to collect the bit he dropped so he doesn't eave a mess. Not a well-thought out decision, but then instincts and a clouded brain don't help. The patting elicits a soft chitter at least from the creature, then he goes back to looking at the door.
Wynona opens the door so Groktraum can exit, and seems prepared to follow.
And out Groktraum goes. He does look back curiously, though. Well, as much as that strange headshape allows anyway.
"Do you need me to walk you off the ship?" Wynona asks uncertainly. "You.. know not to let anyone else read that letter, I hope." She then squeezes past into the hallway to lead the way out.
Groktraum lets Wynona lead him off the ship, then. He can't act too intelligent, after all! Though by now he's not feeling too intelligent, either. A few hours in this form have definitely left his mind a little hazy.
Once they reach the landing ramp, Wynona kneels down and tries to give the grok an awkward hug. "Thank you," she whispers to it, before letting go.
Groktraum leans its head up to rub the smooth carapace lightly against Wynona's cheek. It's a gentle gesture, and intended to inflict no harm. The grok then takes a few steps back and repeats the bow to her; oddly respectful for an animal, but he does it none-the-less. Once he has risen, the creature then turns and darts off, time to leave the mountain and head back to the nest! A few days in this body and he'd be worried he'd mentally be a grok.