He’d gone off to eat lunch: a non-shifter deer he’d hunted within the dome. He had eaten it while in his animal form, which explained why he was so pleased with himself. Hunting and eating in your animal form was satisfying, though a painful experience for your stomach and body if you went into your human form while still digesting it. Very unpleasant. Especially if you’d also eaten some of the bones from the creature you’d hunted. Trianor soared off with the rest of his class, glancing back once at his father as he recalled the last time he’d done the very same thing. It had been a young doe, and he’d eaten half of it before his parents caught Trianor in his animal form, gorging himself on fresh venison. They’d made sure he suffered through the night in his bed, while in his human form, by putting on the anti-shifting collar around his neck as soon as he’d transformed into his human shape. It was a lesson he didn’t want to repeat. He’d been sick to his stomach for days, miserable from overeating, upset that he hadn’t been taught why they didn’t eat in their animal form before this happened, and spent the next few days in bed, trying to sleep off the remnants of his mistake, his stomach distended for almost a week after the incident. Trianor had still been feeling miserable when he’d been sent back to school before getting marked for truancy, and had to suffer through classes he didn’t exactly care for while dealing with a still-upset and still-digesting stomach that wasn’t able to handle anything more than what he’d eaten four days prior. One negative to being a Gryphon. The only time you could vomit in either form is if you’re done digesting the bones, hair, and other scraps from whatever you’d eaten. No choice in the matter. Not even if he was poisoned. It’s horribly disgusting, but he knew predatory bird shifters did the same, and the equines would never be able to do it. Most of the time, it was merely an inconvenience to have to leave class to cough up whatever remnants of your last couple of meals remained in your stomach, but to have to suffer because of a stupid mistake…? He didn’t want anyone to ever have to suffer through what he had. Every other Gryphon child he knew never had to go through his incident because he was the first to do such a stupid thing. They spent most of the day flying from location to location, occasionally walking short distances between a few of the more historical buildings, with everyone giving their own two bits on their historical location or artifact, depending on who they were and where their family came from. Afterwards, they were free to head off to join in the festivities, though Trianor decided to fly off elsewhere, to vanish to the outskirts of the city in a half-hearted attempt to flee the city. Even the sentries–cerberuses–were joining the festivities, to his surprise. After all, nobody was expected to leave when there was so much fun and the exciting festivities were going on. He could try, right now, if he had supplies. Which he had hidden in a hollow tree not far from the gate.
Cautiously, after picking up his satchel of supplies–enchanted to be bottomless and lightweight so he would have no difficulty carrying it, and with an additional spell to grow in size with his body as he took on his animal form, he made his way to the gate. No spells in sight. No guards, either. No spies in the trees–he’d made sure of that by scaring them all off. Nothing. The gate wasn’t even spelled closed. With gloved hands, he opened the gate just enough to slip through, and pulled it shut behind him, extending his senses outwards until he was sure there was no spell or other shifter nearby that would tell that he’d vanished outside. He was beyond the borders.
