ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Air
Preference List: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twentyone
RP: Air stuck close to the clearing, the glow from the fires clearly illuminating the trees around her as she hunted the motes. So many had been caught and yet there were still so many remaining - it seemed as though they had barely made a dent. Truthfully, she was exhausted, running and jumping around to catch the motes had long since lost its enjoyment. She wanted to sleep but she was afraid she'd not wake up - that her body would think it was still night and keep her under, waiting for a morning that would never come.

Air shivered and though her eyes were heavy, body weary, she would not rest until the task was done. She breathed in the cold air and a determined frown crossed her features as her hooves dug into the ground. She pushed off, leaping in the direction of a mote and scooped it into her mouth with ease. She felt herself falling quickly towards the ground but she didn't hit the bottom. Grass grew, taller than mountains around her, obscuring the sky above and her surroundings until she was a small thing, lost in the blades. She saw nothing and everything at once - where she couldn't see the sky, instead she saw the grains of soil and dirt. The holes of anthills that now looked like the entrances to caves. Cracks in the dry ground spanning like chasms; a puddle spreading like a lake before her.

And then it was all gone in a flash and she was herself again, depositing the mote with the others. As she did so, another mote flew directly into her path and for a moment all Air did was watch it dance with no clear direction, the light it gave off pulsing seemingly into with her breathing, her heart. It had no face she could see but it stopped and seemed to watch her, curiously. Her skin prickled and she broke eye contact, catching the strange mote quickly and putting it into the cage. It was lost in the sea of its siblings but she swore she could still feel it, watching her without eyes.

She spied another mote quickly enough, another kin had chased it into her direction and she caught it delicately. Suddenly, motes swarmed her and she almost lost the one she caught as she fought the urge to scream. The motes had seemed tolerant of being caught even if they ran away. These motes, however, seemed determine to stop it and Air flailed around, trying to bat them away; a zikwa called out as she crashed into it. She was ready to open her mouth to yell for hope when suddenly the glow dimmed and she opened her eyes to find they'd all gone. Another illusion, perhaps but she wasn't going to wait to find out. She deposited the mote and wandered off, needing at least a rest if she wasn't going to sleep.

Away from the fires, Air took a seat on the soft grass and looked up at the sky; watching the stars twinkle out one by one.

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Totoma
Preference List:Twenty, Ten, Nine, Eight, Four
RP:
This younger, nameless Totoma doe, perhaps looking to follow in her father's footsteps or perhaps looking to make a name for herself, had joined in the hunt as well. However, what with Lightning Caller's little journey off on his own, she had lost track of the subtle shard-glow of her father on the way, and was now on her own. Into the darkness, she chased down whatever little glowing lights she could.

The trees of the swamp seemed to reach up even higher than usual in this darkness, only underlit by the flickering motes of light that they were chasing. It was impossible to see even a kin's length in front of you, so even as she chased, she felt as slow as slime- the distances between things seemed impossibly vast. Her lungs heaved in her chest and her legs burned with the exercise. Still, she didn't want to give up, although...

No, the trees seemed far bigger than before. Hesitantly she slowed, looking up at the impossibly black silhouette of a mangrove against the inky sky. She was not a particularly small Totoma- but now the tree looked to be the size of a mountain. The tops of her horns barely made it above the crown of its roots. And as she turned back towards where she had last seen the mote, she gasped- the little flickering thing that she had once been chasing seemed as big and as bright as the moon.

She shook her head, trying to gain her bearings. No, she had heard that these motes played tricks on those trying to hunt them already- this wasn't real.

With one great leap, she jumped towards the now-massive mote...

Only to find herself leaping up into the air and never coming back down. She tried scratching for the ground with her front hooves, only to find they were no hooves- instead, she was flapping her tiny little wings, flitting back and forth much the same as the motes. No, they were feathered. She was suddenly some sort of... bird? A tiny bird, too- a budgie.

Still, this would not sway her dedication. Through the air she swooped and chased after the mote of light, still nearly the same size as her. But she was yet inexperienced on her wings, and the mote was impossibly fast. She had to give chase further, further, further- away from the gathering area, deep into the swap, deep into parts unknown...

Before she knew it, she was no longer chasing the mote through the swamp- but instead the endless, vast desert of the Acha. It too was impossibly dark, like the caves below. But here, she had the advantage. Unlike the trees and foliage of the swamp where the motes could dance and hide, the desert was open in all directions. There was nowhere to hide out here- it was only a matter of time before she could catch up to the mote.

Suddenly, she seemed to spot an opportunity.

Though in the body of a budgie, she breathed in deeply and summoned forth the confidence of an eagle as she gained height on the mote. All at once she tucked in her wings and dive-bombed the flickering light, reaching out her little claws like talons in order to grasp it. Even if the mote was almost as big as her, she grabbed it and wrestled it down into the sand below, furiously pecking it with her beak...

Until she woke up, feeling the glowing little thing flitting around inside her mouth, pounding against her now very-Totoma teeth.

1: Your kin imagines they are very, very tiny!
3: Your kin imagines they have become a type of familiar!

+ adding: 8: Your kin imagines they are in a different climate (plain, mountains, desert, caves)!

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Reluctant Hero
Preference List: 9, 10, 12, 20, 2, 1, 19, 4, 8, 18, 7, 5, 13, 21, 3, 6, 14, 16, 15, 17, 11
RP:

There was a sigh from Hero as he heard what needed to be done. The light needed to return and so he agreed to help with catching these motes. It was very important the light returned. He didn't like the lack of it, as many didn't, and he heard concerns about how things would grow without the sun. As he set out he found a cluster and snuck up on them managing to touch one...and then feel like he was staring up at it a large glowing orb. Why was that leaf so big!? He didn't like how absolutely tiny he felt!

As he walked to find a new mote, his perspective on his surroundings went back to normal. Well normal-ish. Sure he was proper sized but as he walked the swamp gave way to hot burning sand under his hooves, the wind whipping it up against his legs and sides. He'd never seen sand like this before and looking all around he was no longer in the swamp but in a desert. How had he gotten here!?

He started to run, worry taking him over and he ran into a mote in his haste. Still he ran on, the fear giving way to joy, to power to a need to hunt. He tilted his head back and let out a long loud howl, hearing a chorus of echos from other wolves. It was time to hunt for more motes, him and his pack.

Reluctant no more, he took off running again unaware of when he stopped being a wolf in the desert, and once more was a buck running through the swamp trying to help save them all.

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Eats Flowers
Preference List: two, four, nine, ten, twenty, three, one, twenty-one, twelve, nineteen, eighteen, seventeen, seven, six, fourteen, thirteen, eighteen
RP: It did not occur to Eats Flowers to doubt what Steals Fire said about bringing back motes to bring back the light. He nodded seriously to the instructions and set off to hunt for motes.

He caught one easily enough, and hummed approval and pride to himself. However, as he set off to bring it back, he began to grow. Taller and taller he grew, massive, until he was bigger than even the trees. He stopped quickly, afraid to move even one hoof for fear of crushing the now much smaller kin below him. They didn't seem to even notice him above them! It was too dangerous to do anything, and he stayed very, very still until suddenly, with a shiver and a blink, reality reasserted itself and he was his normal size again. He blew a heavy sigh of relief and made his way back to turn in the mote.

He gave the mote over and headed back out into the daynight to try to catch more. Could the assembled kin catch all the motes, he wondered? There were a lot of kin here. But there were also a lot of motes. One drifted past his nose, and he stretched out to catch it. Then he was off balance, falling, fumbling, flapping, suddenly on two legs rather than four, with big awkward flappy appendages that he realized belatedly were wings. He had become a crane! His legs felt too long for his body, and he tottered back and forth, trying to find his balance. It was difficult, and he hoped that this would not be somehow permanent; he would have to learn to walk all over again, much less fly, and that idea sounded very awkward and distressing. He wobbled back toward the cage; fortunately, though, before he made it there, the feeling of being a crane faded away and he walked back much more steadily.

He was a little reluctant to go back out to catch more after being too big and then too birdlike. But he dutifully went after the next mote. It was carefully caught, and he stopped in place to see what would happen to him this time. The world seemed to get bigger quite suddenly, and he tried to yelp, but found himself unable to make any noise. When he tried to move, he discovered that he had more legs than he was used to now, and there was something heavy covering his back. A hoof landed right next to him, and he scuttled sideways in alarm. It was now his turn to worry about being crushed; he was pretty sure he'd become a hermit crab. He spent a few anxious minutes dodging feet that seemed to come far too close to him far too often. When the world skewed and returned him to himself, he was thoroughly relieved. He made his way over to the cage hastily to turn his mote in, and then edged away before anyone could ask him to catch more motes.

Maybe he would go and have some soup instead.

Spoiler

2: Your kin imagines they are huge!
3: Your kin imagines they have become a type of familiar!
3: Your kin imagines they have become a type of familiar!

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Abnormal
Preference List: 11, 1, 9, 10, 3, 2, 7, 20, 21, 19, 18, 5, 6, 12,
RP: Abnormal breathed through her mouth, tasting the chilling air on the top of her mouth. Autumn was when she truly became alive. Pawing the ground, she shifted her weight from one side to the other in silent reproach. The mote was here somewhere. She should have paid more attention to which way it went. At this rate, it would be the next day before she captured any motes to bring back to the helpers. There was no need for motes laterns during the day though. There! At the corner of her eye, she found what she pursued. Breaking into a spring, she gave chase and...

Fog surrounds the acha abnormally until she bats away the fog with the flailing of her body and curls tossed askew. When the fog dissipates, she notices the trees. In her mind, she knows what she is looking at is the canopy and her mind freezes at the realization they were eyelevel. That meant the impossible. Looking down, she spied two separate set of footprints. Instead of side by side, a trail was abruptly ended by a large hoofprint. At least that's what she thought it was. What if she had stepped on her sister? They were similar if you discounted the markings, patterns, and ears. No one noticed the difference of ears with their curls. Horrified, Abnormal runs to the nearest source of water. When scared, she ran to her favorite place for comfort. The waves were familiar; she knew what to expect of them.

As soon as Abnormal met the waves, she melted into the water until only her mask could be seen. Doing her best caiman impression, she lurked until the waves carried her deep down. She melted again, this time into the water completely. Her movements were no longer her own. Pulled by the tides, she was the waves that rushed and receded. Trapped in this endless cycle, this was not the comfort the sought. It was too predictable. But each time she came ashore, she crept closer to the edge. By each current, she staggered and stalled in the waters longer, fighting the pull of the tides. Eventually she landed on the sand panting at the exertion. She had made it. Flopping down, her body created a thud. She was solid as water didn't make that sound in sand.

After a small eternity, the motes came back and beckoned Abnormal to continue the pursuit. Following a trail, there were many and on a merry chase did they lead her. Through the coconut trees, past the mangroves, and halfway upside a mountain before she lunged and caught the nearest one. It barely fit in her mouth and caused blindness with its sheer girth. Behold, victory! Smiling, it's always when she's smiling that the scene shifts. She's spat out of the reverie none the wiser. Startled she looks around. While her body felt exhausted as if she completed all the tasks, she was unnerved to find she was still right where she began. Her racing heart said otherwise.

Your kin imagines they are huge!
Your kin imagines they are made up of one of the four elements!
You capture an exceptionally large mote with no consequences.

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Sunlust
Preference List: 11, 1, 9, 10, 3, 2, 7, 20, 21, 19, 18, 5, 6, 12,
RP:Sunlust felt right at home in the dark surrounded by barely lit will of wisps. Except here they were called motes and were able to be corralled into lanterns for light. Back home in the damp caves, they used mushrooms or will of wisps. He missed the sound of dripping water and humid air and warm flows of the wind that whistled through the rocks in a light sensory caress.

Out of nowhere, a fat droplet landed with an audible plop on his forehead. She whirled around before looking upward. He wasn't sure what was worse- the fact that he was suddenly in the caves or the droplet came from water and not the very wet droppings of bats. Hard packed earth and glowing stones in the walls of the caves greeted him. Sunlust paused. He was looking for motes and he was not in the caves when it started. In fact, he left the caves to chase the motes. What had brought him back?

During the entire time of his circling thoughts that led to more confusion, the drops fell at a steadily rate until his fur was drenched. He tried to move forward, but fell forward dispersing into millions of droplets. He had no mouth to cry out and the scream of alarm died on his lips. He was a sludge of accumulated cave rain. He despaired and sunk deeper into his self.

Time moved differently for Sunlust. He felt the ebb and flow of the ripples from the leaking cave roof. It pushed his form to extend in many directions until he was remade into a new shape. He first noticed the thicker muscles on his calves. Zikwa were not belt for endurance running. His legs were massive. He looked closer. They were so massive due to the thicker fur. He turned his head and heard the dull scrape of bone on the ground. Horns. He had huge ones now. He craned his neck forward, testing the new weight. He gingerly got up and ran out. The further he ran, the more his senses came back. WHen he caught his breath, the motes he had been chasing were almost out of his sight! He hurried!

Your kin imagines they are in a different climate (plain, mountains, desert, caves)!
Your kin imagines they are made up of one of the four elements!
Your kin imagines they are a different species of kin!

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Colossal
Preference List: 11, 1, 9, 10, 3, 2, 7, 20, 21, 19, 18, 5, 6, 12,
RP:
Colossal was exhilarated by this fall event. It was beyond anything she could have imagined. She grinned. Not one to back down from the unfamiliar, she wholeheartedly embraced the task at hand- to catch moves for the guiding lanterns. She ran a good sustainable pace. Spying the rocky outcrop ahead of her, she had the motes cornered. She lunged, her teeth nearly grazing what she sought.

Colossal falls onto the sandy loam of the beach, the motes nowhere to be found. She relaxing waves beckon the acha closer. Her eyelids drooped and felt heavy on her cheeks. What if she were to take a short nap. If she rested, she would be better prepared to catch the mote. But she was so close. And yet, sleep sounded wonderful with the lull of the waves. With the sun ahead of her (but wait, wasn't in nighttime when she started?), Colossal searched for a nice shady spot to take a nap.

Colossal stepped forward when she saw the coconut tree. She was rooted to the spot. She could not move. Try with all her might, not even one inch forward did she budge. She looked down at her hooves to see the cause of her immobility. Instead, she saw hairy, gnarled roots surrounded by a coconut tree's rough bark. The bark came from her. She looked up, her limbs replaced with the horror of coconut bark. She snarled in rage. She had somewhere to be and something to do. She tussled and fought to break away from the roots. Ahead of her, she shade shifted with each move. She looked up in scary understanding- she had become the coconut tree. Now she would always have a shady spot to nap. It was a hollow victory. "Be careful of what you wish for" immediately came to mind.

Colossal nashed her teeth in frustration. If only she hadn't heard the siren waves. If only she had imagined dessert instead. It was cool, dry, and trees were few and far between. She would kiss the sand if she escaped this tree cage. Wrenching her body forward, she was determined to escape. She got half a lungful of sand for her troubles. Red, delightfully crumbly and dry sand. She was in a dessert now. But she had her limbs and for that gratitude, she decided to not look too closely about the tree situation. Sigh. The motes were just ahead. Colossal started out in a light job, the cadence of her trot changing with the soft sand.

Your kin imagines they are in a different climate (plain, mountains, desert, caves)!
Your kin imagines they are a tree and cannot move!
Your kin imagines they are in a different climate (plain, mountains, desert, caves)!

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Sluggish
Preference List: Six, Three, Two, Nineteen, Four, Five, Eight, Seven, One, Nine, Twelve, Seventeen, Twenty, Ten, Eighteen, Fourteen, Eleven, Thirteen, Twenty One, Sixteen, Fifteen
RP: Sluggish was trying his best to catch the motes flying around with his jellyfish "helping" him by guiding him around with stings.

He could have sworn he was near some trees before but now he's tripping over what could be described as bushes from how low they were. The nearby river feels more like a little thin stream on his hooves. Did they shrink or did he grow?

His stumbling wasn't helping him catch these motes because they were faster than his large clumsy self. He didn't realize that as he fell over a log a large mote stuck to his side and another was caught in the stinging tendrils of his jellyfish in the chaos until another kin with working eyes told him. He hopes the helper doesn't mind helping detangle a mote from his squishy friend's grasp.

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Story
Preference List: 11, 15, 2, 3, 8, 1, 12, 18, 4, 10
RP:
To say that Story was concerned was an understatement. There was enough concern that though this mote chasing(catching?) seemed like a task for a more speedy sort of buck, and he did not enjoy being hurried, it was still important that he give this his best try. He moved with great haste, though to anyone else it looked more like a gentle walk, towards the collection of little lights piercing the darkness.

As he honed his focus on what he imagined to be a particularly vibrant mote Story was shocked to learn that he could no longer move. He tried his best to stretch leg before leg, straining for forward momentum. It seemed that for the first time in his life, despite years and years of wishing and hoping, he had grown roots. No, that wasn't right ... his feet were now roots. His hide was now actual bark and not just layer upon layer of dirt, mud, and plant matter. He was a tree! The shepherd had become one of his own flock. Even knowing that the unending darkness he was trying to help battle meant his life as a tree would be short lived- He couldn't be happier. He only hoped he was an oak.

Before he could fully settle into his new life, content to feel what breeze he could as he waited to wither with the rest of his new brethren, it seemed he was changing again. Growing, more and more urgently, into something very small. A mouse, maybe, he pondered. He looked down at his feet, straining against the dark, and was amazed to see his own hooves. It seemed the tiny specks of dirt were now like the largest boulders, and he feared he'd be stepped on by other kin if he wasn't very cautious with his next moves. He found shelter under what he hoped was underbrush and waited.

It wasn't long before the new changes set in. The weight and bulk of his body, the body he'd always had, was changing. He still wasn't as tall as he'd originally been, and his legs felt spindle-thin. More alarmingly, perhaps, was that the world was getting even darker. A mote moved past him and he let out a surprised "Oh!" The motes had been welcome pockets of light to begin with, but now they seemed to be even brighter. They were perhaps the only thing he could see.
... Had he become a zikwa? Story had heard somewhere that their underground cousins saw the world this way. What a wonder!

He shook his head slowly and breathed out admonishment at himself for getting caught is such silly fancies.

They'd been told that the motes could cause hallucinations, and now that his head was clearing, Story understood why that was a warning and not an invitation. He herded the motes into a waiting lantern and congratulated himself on a job well done. Though he did have to admit- He would always miss that time he was a tree.

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Breaking Free
Preference List: 1, 11, 10, 20, 2, 3, 17, 4, 8, 14, 9, 13, 19, 12, 18, 15, 6, 7, 21, 5, 16
RP: [1, 5, 5]

Breaking Free was ready and willing to do anything to bring the sun back - even if it involved chasing tiny, strange, specks of light who could apparently cause strange visions. Or something. Who was she to judge, really? As long as she could play a part, and create herself an adventure, Breaking Free didn't mind the challenge.

Besides, at least these were real - last time she had gone on a chase in the forest, she had ended up muddy and with nothing to prove about the dumb dragons.

Still, she pushed her past failures aside, ready to charge straight into action. Quite literally, actually, as she started at a run straight towards the first mote she could see. The mote, however, seemed prepared for her and zoomed off, starting the hunt as Breaking followed. For a moment it was fine, but the further the mote led, the slower and clumsier Breaking got as she tried to keep up while also not falling on her face tripping over roots in the dark. So concerned with her footing, Breaking looked down for one moment and when she looked up the mote was gone.

The loss of the mote only kept her attention for a second though, because suddenly the trees seemed almost impossibly big. Like they were just huge branches stretching over her in one large group except - was that a branch, actually? She squinted up at the woody appendage, until she realized that it was a root actually, one she had been focused on not tripping over. She whipped her head around with growing concern, suddenly trying to figure out exactly what was going on. How small had she just become? Did she need to worry about other kin stepping on her? What about familiars? Would bugs try to eat her?

Her panic rose as time seemed to stretch on until she blinked and suddenly she was the size she always was. The trees were fine, the roots were beneath her once more - and the mote was now floating in place before her, like nothing had happened at all. Breaking stared at it for a minute, but it seemed like it was content to join her, and so she shook the experience from her mind and set her sights on another one that was nearby.

This one too took her on a run through the swamp, although Breaking was a little more prepared for it this time. She was able to keep up with it as she chased it through the trees, getting closer and close until suddenly, she felt like was was glued to the ground. Or maybe part of it, was more appropriate. When she looked down it was like she had melded with the earth, suddenly joined to it like she had risen from it. Her confusion, and her sudden condition, kept her in place. Was she made of dirt now? Or was it stone? What was earth even, really? Even these confusing thoughts came slowly to her, like she was working through mud (and oh, she was so tired of mud. Truly), and then suddenly they weren't even a concern at all.

Because she felt as if she had been liquefied instead.

This too was a confusing sensation, even if she was technically able to move, she felt too petrified (was that a correct phrase, she wasn't sure) to. Would she spill into a million drops if she did? Would her body collapse and melt to the ground, running into a puddle? Her thoughts raced, and then melted away, concern both coming and then leaving rather suddenly. It was a strange feeling, enough that when Breaking was finally herself again, she had to take a moment of pause to really make sure her body was connected and that a step wouldn't leave her stuck to the ground or raining upon it.

When she looked up, she expected the motes to have disappeared, and yet there they were still floating before her, a third having joined them. Breaking eyed them warily, but they seemed unlikely to run off again, and she sighed. Perhaps that had been the condition to catching them, but it was fine. She had least had caught something this time, and so with the experience behind her, she began to bring the motes back with her to the lanterns.

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Totem
Preference List: 11, 15, 2, 3, 8, 1, 12, 18, 4, 10
RP:
Totem knew this was bad. She could feel the wrongness in her bones, like a still in the air before a great storm, but she wasn't afraid. If nothing else she felt almost uniquely built for this. Unlike a lot of kin that, through no fault of their own, were suddenly without the sense they'd relied on so heavily up until this point Totem wasn't panicking. In fact she felt surprisingly calm. They could fix this. She knew they could. She listened carefully for the lull of conversation of kin planning and working together. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but that was okay. She didn't need to know what they were saying ... Just that conversation was happening. She leaned down and buried her nose in the ruff of her Puppy's neck.

"Okay, love," she commanded, "chase the lights."

Puppy moved and pushed and led Totem onward. They moved together as one, a combination of yipping from the hyena and clicking from Totem, and if anyone had been able to see them clearly it would have looked like a dance. A well practiced, skillful, dance between acha, beast, and little light. She couldn't help but laugh as Puppy told led her to a stop and indicated that they were where the motes were supposed to go.
They'd done it! With a smile in her voice she couldn't help but wonder- Were they all going to be that easy?

She clicked her tongue to continue and Puppy urged her along once more. The same dance began, and she was starting to get into a happy rhythm, when a yelp and the sudden absence of her dog caused her to stop in her tracks. Totem nearly toppled over her good front leg with the sudden stop, and it was a good thing too. Totem felt suddenly very, very, wrong. Like the world was suddenly much too small for her. Even though she'd never been able to tell by sight that she was smaller than most she could tell by the way the world moved around her that she was not particularly large ... But now? Now she was massive! She thought for sure the pure weight and height of her body would be too much and crash through the ground into the caves below. What little she could hear was suddenly so far away, probably because her head was way above the trees she imagined, and Totem was now completely alone.

"Oh, please!" Totem bellowed. "Let me be smaller! This is much too much! Thank you!"

In the amount of time it took her to delicately stamp a back hoof in misplaced anger, it was as though Totem's plea had been heard. She felt the sudden, so sudden, shift as she shrunk back to her original size. And then further and further down.

"No!" This wasn't what she'd asked for! She knew that she was much smaller now than she'd ever been by how the ground beneath her heaved as Puppy joined her at her side. His breath on her cheek felt like it was going to send her flying. Worst of all the lull of conversation that she couldn't hear at all from the clouds was now so loud as to be oppressive. Could sound crush you? She didn't want to find out.

Totem let out a little squeak of a wail and dropped to her stomach. Covering her face with her front legs the little acha doe started to cry. This was all too terrible. She'd never wish to be a different size than she was ever again.

And, then, again as if to answer her wish- Puppy pushed against her side and Totem realized she could feel his body the way she had at the start. The droning of voices around her was as it had always been. The air smelled right. She still felt the weight of what was happening to the world, but at least she was back in the right sized body.

"Come on, Puppy." Totem sighed as she reluctantly stood back up. "Let's get these motes back to the helpers."

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Wicked Night
Preference List: 1, 11, 10, 20, 2, 3, 17, 4, 8, 14, 9, 13, 19, 12, 18, 15, 6, 7, 21, 5, 16
RP: [4, 8, 9]

Wicked Night was here to cause trouble. Wicked Night was here to find unsuspecting victims. Wicked Night was here to have one final laugh before the swamp disappeared and was destroyed, consumed under the endless night that had come.

He was not here to chase motes.

And yet here he stood, ready to do exactly that.

He grumbled as he started off after one of the floating lights, barely keeping pace with a jog. All he needed to do was keep up an appearance, look nice and polite for the moment. Apparently, this included chasing after the floating lights that would supposedly bring back the sun, which was an objective Wicked Night could really care less about. However, it was hard to set a trap if he didn't at least pretend to care about what was going on, and if everyone else cared about the motes, then he would have to as well.

Even if the whole activity was deeply beneath him.

So he jogged, the mote somehow keeping enough pace that it didn't zoom off but it was just enough that it was out of reach. Wicked grumbled and increased his speed - even if he didn't want to, it would be better to come back with one more than none at all. Yet just as he started to pick up pace he suddenly wasn't - suddenly, he was adhered to the ground.

If Wicked could blink, he would, but he was a tree. It was a deeply confusing experience, all things considered, and Wicked wasn't really sure where to go from here. Would he just be wood forever? That would be a problem, except the concern for that was also hard to find the longer he stood there. Trees weren't really that emotional, he guessed, as he gazed out into the dark, not really seeing anything and only really feeling the ground. Maybe there were leaves sprouting from his horns, although he couldn't exactly check.

Then as suddenly as it came, the experience was gone, and Wicked was himself again, fully able to move. He blinked, for real this time, and then shook his head to escape the lingering feelings. The mote was still there, flickering in front of him, and when he moved forward it moved as well.

The chase was still on, it seemed.

A jog wasn't enough to do it, so Wicked took off at a faster pace this time, fully intent now on capturing the thing before it caused more mischief. He was focused now, irritated by the task but determined to capture this one. If it was less about appearance now, and more his ego, it wasn't like any of the other kin would know. Yet as he kept up his chase, he noticed that his surroundings started to twist and warp until finally, he was in a cave system.

It was just as dark as the forest, yet this felt more claustrophobic somehow. He grimaced as he picked his way through the caves, the mote a both a guide and a taunting light in the distance. The walls seemed to press in on him the more he moved, the stone hard and unforgiving as it scraped against his fur. He forged on, unwilling to admit defeat, still following the shining light that seemed to grow larger, and larger as he finally fought his way out -

Until he was in the light, and when he glanced down, he realized it wasn't the swamp or the sun but motes. Many of them, all clinging to Wicked and covering him, making him a shining beacon of light. He smiled for a moment, deeply smug. This, this could work. He would look glorious as he led all of these motes back, like a true savior of the group. All the kin would flock to him, and surely he could reel in some poor fool to become his next test subject for whatever he needed! Except the lights were slowly fading from him, one by one, disappearing into thin air until finally - the last mote that remained was perched on his nose.

Wicked had been tricked.

His eyes crossed as he stared at the creature, a scowl affixed on his face. The mote, whatever it was, had clearly been having its fun with him. But as he moved forward it stayed on his nose, apparently content with what it had caused, and Wicked finally was able to move back to the group with his singular light. At least he had something to show for the whole affair.

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: I Know Who I Am
Preference List: 11, 15, 2, 3, 8, 1, 12, 18, 4, 10
RP:
They had this- There was no doubt. If anyone had the swagger and unearned confidence to pull off mote chasing with zero consequence it was I Know Who I Am. They rolled their shoulders, flipped their hair so dramatically(no could see it, but really they looked stupid), and sauntered in the general direction of the motes.

"Let's do this."

All things considered I Know Who I Am was off to a good start, or at least that's what they were telling themself. They'd chosen one mote and were hot on it's trail.

"Like a badas-" Well, that was new. "Huh."

Am ... Am I bigger? They thought. Like, the butchest of the butch. The hugest of the huge. I Know Who I Am grinned. It was not a sane or normal kind of grin.

Yeah, I can work with this. They puffed up their chest and let out what they imagined to be the sexiest bellow they could muster. "Where my sweet ladies at?"

No answer came, and as they were contemplating what a tragedy that was they were back to a fairly normal size(pity), but in a much more chilly location. I Know Who I Am could not, for all the shiny pebbles in the world, remember what Steals Fire had said about the motes ... But they were pretty sure no one had said anything about suddenly being on the top of a mountain. They would have remembered if someone, anyone, had said at any time- "Hey, these motes might magically teleport you to your icy death. Good luck!" I Know Who I Am would have noped all the way back home if they'd known ahead of time this could be a thing.
But no one had said anything and now I Know Who I Am was going to freeze to death. Such a shame.

They closed their eyes and readied themselves, stoically and heroically, for their end.

And only then realized that they weren't cold anymore. They felt funny, but they weren't cold.

I Know Who I Am shook their hair out and was instantly concerned all over again. There was a weight up there that shouldn't be.
They tried to knock whatever it was off by smashing it against a nearby tree, but that just hurt. A lot.
Come to think of it ... They realized they were maybe larger again, too. But not as big as they'd been previously. The peered down at their hooves. Twirled around to look at their behind.

"Great MotherFather- I'm a kimeti!"

This was the happiest day of their life. They were sure of it. They just needed to find someone to appreciate their new body before it went awa-- Annnnd it was gone.

"&^*!#"

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Shadow in the Light
Preference List: 9, 12, 10, 20, 1, 8, 4, 17, 13, 15, 6, 5, 21, 19, 3, 18, 14, 16, 7, 2, 11
RP: Shadow wasn't sure what to think of these little creatures that had suddenly made an appearance, but he didn't think it would hurt to go and check out what they were. He found one fairly quickly and ran after it to try and catch it. It tried its best to get away from him, but he caught up to it eventually. But, upon catching the first one, he got an unexpected surprise because of it.

Shadow suddenly saw himself in a cave he'd been to before, all the glowing mushrooms and other shining things that were there, but his shadow seemed to be slightly off from how it usually was. "I don't remember my shadow going along that wall before. The light makes it so it shouldn't do that." And in that moment, his shadow started running around the cave walls, startling Shadow to see it doing so. After a bit more running around, the shadow seemed to stop very suddenly, and the cave seemed to have started to fade out, the shadow blending into it. When Shadow's vision was normal again, he realized none of what he saw was actually real, but was somehow caused by the little creature he grabbed.

A little wary after the first one, Shadow decided he wanted to try a go at catching another one, this one just as nimble and tricky to catch as the first one, but he eventually caught up to it as well. He grabbed the creature and right away noticed the feeling the first one caused and thought to himself, "here we go again," as the next vision started.

This vision was very different to his first one. This time, he was by a little pond this time. And it was one outside of a cave, which was the most unusual part to him seeing as he doesn't often go to ponds like this. He decided to go over to the water to get himself a drink real quick since he was already there, when he noticed his reflection looked nothing like him. "Ahh! Who's that looking at me!?" He jumped back at the surprise of seeing a Totoma in his reflection rather than his normal self. He double checked his reflection to see if he was sure of what he saw, and the Totoma was still there. "I'm now a Totoma somehow. This will take some getting used to." Then everything faded like the first vision had, and Shadow looked at his reflection immediately to make sure he hadn't actually changed. He was very thankful to have not changed and that it was just another vision.

Shadow was sure that he wanted the second one to be the last he caught because he wasn't sure he wanted to experience another strange vision like the other two, but as he started to walk away, he saw one more very close to him that he knew he could easily get. "I know I'm going to regret this." He went over to the creature, and was able to quickly grab it up. He waited, expecting to suddenly get hit with another strange feeling, but it never came. "Oh, seems like this one doesn't cause the visions to happen. Lucky me. I really don't think I wanted to see another one of those..."

ON THE HUNT FOR MOTES!
Kin Name: Dominant
Preference List: One, Two, Eight, Nine, Three, Ten, Twenty, Seventeen, Fourteen, Four, Twenty-One
RP:



Dominant wasn't someone who helped anyone willingly, he avoided helping people at all costs, even himself, unwilling to raise a hoof to do anything for anyone. Mote catching seemed like a very tryhard thing to do, for the kind of kin who fancied themselves heroes, who saw themselves as the central character of their own grand tale.

No one would tell stories about Dominant around the campfire when he was gone. No one would speak fondly about him.

He didn't care.

He'd found himself in the company of blessed kin, and it had begun to grate on him, so he left, rising to slowly stroll away from the clearing, into the trees around it, his long tail dragging behind him as always. Whatever he touched the seemed to slick with the oil that covered his entire body.

He didn't need to chase the motes, instead they came to him when he stood still long enough. Maybe they were attracted to misery, maybe they mistook him for a tree or foliage. The first settled on him and its energy seemed to crackle through him.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he re-opened them only to find that the perspective of the world had skewed. He towered above the forest, his vast and heavy horns gleaming in the moonlight. He was huge, enormous.

Big enough to snap up kin in a single bite.

The blue Acha had called him a cannibal, and it was true, but only for the dead, only for the fools who had already given up in the steep and sticky tar. Like this though, he wouldn't need to wait for them to have lost the fight, he could snap them up in his sharp teeth still wriggling.

He smirked to himself, turning back in the direction of the clearing.

It was almost fortunate that as he turned, another mote landed on his nose. This one brought him to his senses a little, no longer large - or at least as large as he had been - he sneezed it off, only to find he was clustered with the dratted things, covering every inch of his fur, glued to the oil that covered him and unpleasantly refusing to budge.

He tried pulling them off, but more seemed to cluster in their place and he growled with frustration.

After a while of this, he snapped out at what turned out to be a real mote, finding himself reshaping and twisting into something else, suddenly finding himself with cloven hooves, a stocky body and an intimidating pair of tusks. A boar. It felt right somehow, and he grinned to himself at the sensation, pawing the ground.

Maybe this one he could get used to.