1 - 3. Willing But Unable.

It is a long while before she picks herself back up again and steps out of her corner. Nyx has done a lot of staring in the past few days. Staring at the walls, staring at the ground, and staring up at the sky, hoping the endless stars might give her an answer. At least they’re pretty. The view soothes her, though the great red moon that looms overhead is still unsettling. Even when she closes her eyes, she doesn’t sleep and doesn’t dream, she only stares into the backs of her eyelids and rests her head.

It feels like being tired, so very, very tired. Nyx scoffs and rolls her head side to side. She’d found out a few things.

- There was one sun, it was in the sky about half the time.

- The blue moon was in the sky about three times per day.

- The red moon was in the sky every other day for a full day.

- The red moon traveled between each of the bridges she had seen before.

- The blue moon traveled perpendicular, following the great chasm to the sides of the island.

- No one ever traveled over the bridges except to change guard shifts. That is, no one ever crossed the desert.

- Therefore, she had gotten used to mentally calling them ‘her island’, ‘her desert’, and ‘her mountain.’

Yet more confirmation that she was alone on her island, really. She lets out another exaggerated sigh and flops on the ground, stretching out. She couldn’t pinpoint it, but something about the landscape around the mountain made the air heavy and hard to breathe in, so maybe that was why no one crossed?

There’s just too much I don’t know. She sighs again and rolls over, plopping her hand onto the sand. This patch of sand moved, she could dig her toes into it, but the moment she got more than a few paces from her little cave, it was as good as stone. Did that make her a ghost that was bound to this cave? Nyx grumbles and rolls over, ruffling her own hair in frustration.

She wasn’t getting anywhere. She isn’t getting anywhere. Nyx hates that. Her eyes droop as her long brown hair spreads out everywhere. Letting out another habitual sigh, she rolls back over and picks herself back up after a few minutes, then trudges back out into the sands. Brushing the sand out from her clothes as she hops left and right, she makes for the one place she hasn’t investigated: the pile of debris a short walk from her mountain.

It had turned out to be the remnants of some sort of civilization, but she hadn’t seen any movement from it in the past few days. Unless there was someone hiding in there the whole time, it wasn’t her concern until just now. Trudging over, Nyx squints and sighs again. There aren’t many structures left and what she does spot are a few stone and clay walls that have barely managed to not fall over. All the wood has rotted and deteriorated, likely from the aridity and winds. That was probably some sort of meeting place, she thinks, and that was a house, and so on. Nyx drags her feet as she spots a rusted shovel leaning against a stone wall. Grinning viciously, she rushes forward to vent her spite on the shovel, swinging her leg out.

Her toes slam into the shovel and it doesn’t move an inch. Falling backwards and clutching her foot, she sucks in a few pained breaths and slams her free hand into the sand. Scrunching up her nose, Nyx glares at the shovel. It sits there innocently, as if it was not the cause of all her present problems, taunting her, mocking her, making fun of her every bit of pain and… she should probably stop ascribing malicious intent to a metal object.

Biting her lower lip and gracefully accepting her defeat, Nyx picks herself back up and limps further forward. Another half broken building with nothing but holes where support beams might go, another empty piece of wreckage - what is she doing here? Scratching her head, she eases out the tension in her shoulders, rolling them back and forth a few times. Clicking her tongue, Nyx walks a little further and around another wall. Ahah, a well. A few of the stones have fallen off, but the main mechanism seems intact. The rope is still there, the bucket is still there, and she’s completely unable to move either of them. Of course. Maybe this well is why the shovel is here? She peeks back around the corner, then back at the well, then shakes her head again. Shifting forward, Nyx squints and peers down the hole.

There’s a leafy, green mass at the bottom. She tilts her head, confused, and leans in. There isn’t a single leafy or green thing in this entire desert, so what exactly is that? She licks her lips and leans down a little further, thoughts beginning to whirl. It can’t hurt her, probably. Nothing else has been able to touch her. On the other hand, she is in a ‘game’ and dying is one of the failure conditions - if the creepy floating sentences are to be believed.

Can she accept responsibility if it needs help? Her heart thumps as she commits and dives in, using the rope to slide all the way down. As she gets closer, the green mass takes on more and more of a humanoid shape. It’s breathing, curled in on itself. When her shoes hit the bottom of the well, they let out a small squelching sound, though she supposes the creature will not hear it. The guards did not notice her, after all. Shifting a little closer, she spots roots digging into the sand from the mass and a somewhat humanoid shape. Gulping, she shifts a little closer and tries to get a better look. Any distinguishing features are covered up by thick leaves and there are no blooms, though the mass is small, much smaller than Nyx is. As she keeps staring, several sentences pop up in front of her as they had before. This time, they’re layered on a screen, fully obstructing her vision.

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- | Name: -

- | Species: Alraune ( Plant Humanoid )

- | Status: Hibernation ( Dying )

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Her eyes snap open in shock. Nyx immediately shifts past the report and reaches for the plant.

Her hand passes straight through.