OoC: Set several days before the medical scavenger hunt.
IC: Tyne was sulking. It was as simple as that. Idri had caught her with not one, or even two flit eggs. But five. Hidden away under her bed, Tyne had been sure that she would be able to hatch them and most importantly, impress them all, before her carer was any the wiser.
She was even more petulant because it was Cairn who had ratted her out, slyly sharing images of the stash to Drummer. The treacherous bronze had been glowered at for his efforts, for all of ten seconds before Tyne felt bad about it and told him she still loved him. But it hadn't stopped her precious treasures being confiscated and hastily redistributed when Tyne had sulkily admitted they only had a couple of days before hatching.
Sent out of their quarters with stern instructions to not get into anymore trouble, Tyne was sitting on the side of the Lake, Bobbin in her lap whilst she threw small pebbles into the water. Now she was bored. And a bored Tyne was liable to find even more mischief.
Nutmeg on the Wizzy.
Florcott on AIM.
I'm sometimes slow and have the memory of a sieve at times, so don't hesitate to poke me if you think you've been forgotten!