<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/63/46/7d/63467db458c5a15fb0884d424a94ee29.jpg)<br/></div><strong>Name: </strong>Vashe Highroot (http://character sheet url)<br/><strong>Race/Class: </strong>Human Shadow Sorcerer<br/><strong>HP:</strong>21/21<strong>AC:</strong>13<br/><strong>Mount HP:</strong>80/80<strong>Mount AC:</strong>16<br/><strong>Effects:</strong><br/><strong>Action:</strong><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Stats</div><div class="spoiler_body">Strength:  6 -2       Constitution:  12  +1 Dexterity:  16  +3<br/>Intelligence: 14 +2   Wisdom: 14  +2      Charisma:  16  +3<br/>Darkvision: 120'<br/>Spell Save DC 13    Spell Points: 3/3<br/>Spell Slots<br/><em>1st:</em> 4/4<br/><em>2nd:</em> 2/2<br/></div></div><br/><hr/><br/>The buzzing noise of the barracks activity and the growing light of the rising sun did little to disturb Vashe's slumber. Rumpled sheets barely covered the pale form sprawled near sideways upon the upper bunk, one foot poking out into thin air while an arm still clutching a book dangles off the other side. Fingers finally give up the ghost and the book falls to the floor with a thud that sends her sitting upright with a gasp, eyes wide and shadowy lightning curling around the spread fingers of a raised hand. The energy fades as wisps of shadow as she looks around, teeth worrying her lower lip and hand dropping to her lap.<br/><br/>The sheet is quickly tossed off and she slips down to the ground, arms stretching out to the sides ever so briefly before she flushes and just yanks her shift of herself. A damp rag later and she's pulling on a tight outfit, even taking a minute to just prance about barefooted before she pulls on her socks and boots. Useful things are shoved into a bag while a carved wand is tucked into her belt. With one last check of equipment she scoops up the fallen book  and tucks it into the bag before she dashes out of the barracks.<br/><br/>Even though she's been partially cured giggles still spill from her as she takes a meandering path, faded locks dancing around her head as she bounces and skips along paths and through grass. Her path leads her eventually to the stables where she pounces upon her black scaled wyvern Onyx. The larger then her beast is fed and polished in a flurry of motion accompanied by song that weaves through languages of a mostly inhuman nature. At one point during the polishing her and Onyx dance, his cheerful chirps and cries mingling with her song.<br/><br/>Once Onyx's morning needs are taken care of she gives him the farewell of many hugs and takes off once more. Her path is slower as she keeps up the singing in switching languages, wand swishing each time the beating of drums fades and images of flying creatures flicker around her as well as vice versa. Upon reaching the cafeteria she cuts off the effects with a swipe of the wand and dashes for the closing door, her stashing of the wand drawing her attention from her path. The distraction is enough she misses her timing and instead of slipping through the closing door she plows into a fully closed door, the thump barely rattling the wooden object while she's knocked onto her rump to pout up at the mean thing.