Griffin Meido Ch. 1

Lucina was overjoyed about her new clothes. Her master had decided that she needed some lighter attire for summer, so he had gifted her a pair of hotpants and tanktop. He even had had them custom made so that they had space for Lucina’s wings and tail. She was inside her small and cozy room, admiring herself from the full body mirror on the wall. Sun was shinining in from the window, giving her a spotlight while she was humming upbeat tune.

She was interrupted by the high-pitched ringing of servant bell. Label under the bell told the call came from the garden, with half dozen identical bells with different labels under them around it. A system that master had ordered to be constructed, so that Lucina wouldn’t have to watch over him all the time. While master was sickly and disliked yelling, he could now call Lucina to his aid with just a ring of a bell, no matter the room either of them were.

Quill, The Ten-Tailed Kitsune

The night air was alive with the sound of a crackling fire, the scratching of metal on paper, and the steady, light humming of a certain fox girl. She stood before the fire, using it’s light to scratch characters into a book using a rather fancy looking quill. Nine other books floated around her, her tails working in a fury to copy down more of the calligraphy. Ink wells floated around her as well, her tails dipping in whenever they needed to recharge the ink. Only one tail didn’t work. Her tenth tail. That one was never used to write with. It was special.

Sophia Quill cursed herself for her own sloth. She had neglected to write down more copies of her best selling book. It wasn’t her story, it was the tale of an overachieving paladin and the succubus who rescued him from a life of war and hardship. She had met them on her travels, and with their permission, had written their story into a book. She didn’t consider the tale her finest work, but the story was popular among the monster populace. It sold well enough.

Quill was a wandering scribe. She wrote down the stories and the histories of the interesting places she visited and the people she met. Her cart was full of parchment and books, most of them blank, waiting for her to scribe some tale or story into their pages. So scribe she did, hoping to sell enough to get her to the next town. She was never in one place for too long, the life of a wandering scholar could be lonely.