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Video | Un: Star-Lord
[ The video comes to live with a start as if the camera had been dropped. And sure enough, the image is sideways. It's green enough that it should be easy to tell it's the Greatmoon Groves but instead of the usually small wild animals and livestock, the camera shows a very big smilodon dozing under the shadow of a tree. ]
Well, that didn't work. [ A voice is heard before Peter picks up the camera he dropped by accident. He doesn't seem to realize that this time he's making a live feed rather than a video only for himself. ] Ok, let's see...third time the charm, uh? Or...seventh, in this case.
[ The man has a bruise in his right shoulder from an unfortunate landing, his hair is mussed and he isn't wearing a shirt, so smaller marks on his chest are also visible. The reason for the missing clothes is the pair of giant, red Eastern Screech owl's wings protruding from his back. After rolling his shoulders, Peter unfurls the wings and flaps them a couple of times, the sound waking up the smilodon behind him. The beast stretches and yawns, showing up the giant fangs before giving Peter his full attention. Peter manages to fly a few meters up the ground without falling on his face again...Only to be suddenly tackled down to the ground by the tiger and let out a screech. ]
No! Down, boy. Freddie, stooop. [ Maybe training his new familiar and attempting to use his new moonblessings at the same time wasn't the best idea. Chest on the ground and a heavyweight on his back, Peter looks over his shoulder to glare at the big tiger lying on him. And then he keeps turning his head far more than any human being should be able to do without breaking their necks. It's close to 200º. ] Come on, we talked about this.
[ The guardian sounds like a stern father scolding a misbehaving child rather than someone dealing with a prehistoric tiger the size of a small car. The tiger harrumphs but after a beat, he moves off of Peter's back. The man sits on the ground, neck facing forward into a normal position again. There's a bunch of feathers on Freddie's mouth before he drops them and licks his master's face with a big, raspy tongue. Peter lets out an indignant yelp, the feathers fluffing up behind him. ]
Oh gods, it's like sandpaper... [ With a resigned sigh and a small smile, Peter pets the beast's head and scratches his ears. ] It's ok, I'm not mad. But so much for learning how to fly...
Well, that didn't work. [ A voice is heard before Peter picks up the camera he dropped by accident. He doesn't seem to realize that this time he's making a live feed rather than a video only for himself. ] Ok, let's see...third time the charm, uh? Or...seventh, in this case.
[ The man has a bruise in his right shoulder from an unfortunate landing, his hair is mussed and he isn't wearing a shirt, so smaller marks on his chest are also visible. The reason for the missing clothes is the pair of giant, red Eastern Screech owl's wings protruding from his back. After rolling his shoulders, Peter unfurls the wings and flaps them a couple of times, the sound waking up the smilodon behind him. The beast stretches and yawns, showing up the giant fangs before giving Peter his full attention. Peter manages to fly a few meters up the ground without falling on his face again...Only to be suddenly tackled down to the ground by the tiger and let out a screech. ]
No! Down, boy. Freddie, stooop. [ Maybe training his new familiar and attempting to use his new moonblessings at the same time wasn't the best idea. Chest on the ground and a heavyweight on his back, Peter looks over his shoulder to glare at the big tiger lying on him. And then he keeps turning his head far more than any human being should be able to do without breaking their necks. It's close to 200º. ] Come on, we talked about this.
[ The guardian sounds like a stern father scolding a misbehaving child rather than someone dealing with a prehistoric tiger the size of a small car. The tiger harrumphs but after a beat, he moves off of Peter's back. The man sits on the ground, neck facing forward into a normal position again. There's a bunch of feathers on Freddie's mouth before he drops them and licks his master's face with a big, raspy tongue. Peter lets out an indignant yelp, the feathers fluffing up behind him. ]
Oh gods, it's like sandpaper... [ With a resigned sigh and a small smile, Peter pets the beast's head and scratches his ears. ] It's ok, I'm not mad. But so much for learning how to fly...