The Joy of Feathers

2 February 2019

00:31 Der finds his way onto the couch, and lazily flops on a cushion while watching the bar and others

00:33 Gyro Feather makes his way in and finds a comfortable couch to rest on.

00:33 Shows-His-Scales is leaning forward, waiting for her to finish the thought when her eyes gaze over his torso. In defiance of the club's already lax dress rules, he's wearing little more than a pair of tight shorts, leaving his green scaled chest - marked with bright red swirls - bare. After a moment it becomes obvious she isn't going to finish, so he leans forward and touches her shoulder with his other hand. "Something on your mind?"

00:33 Tiptoe licks her lips at both of those birdies.

00:36 Tiptoe lifts her eyes back to meet his when he touches her shoulder, tail roiling behind her with tension. "I was going to say that it goes down easy, but I didn't want to be, ah," she says, drawing her hand back to casually put her claws back where they won't be hurting anybody, "Threatening," she continues, giving him a wry smile.

00:39 Shows-His-Scales lets his eyes glance up and down her body, and his smile widens. "I wouldn't take it personally. No offense, but I don't think you're quite the rise size to have me threatened anyway. Besides, I know just what this place is about. I know the risks."

00:42 Der was a bit tired and the couch was warm and comfortable, a couple long blinks later and the bird was out of it, dosing peacefully. That was until something decided to not look closely before going for a sit. Der awoke, pinned between flesh and fabric and hardly able to move between them, reduced to not much more then an ever so slightly noticeable lump.

00:42 Tiptoe tries not to pout, and fails. Maybe she should invest in some nice tall heels. Tiptoe has a visible fair bit of power to her, but her potential is badly hampered by her height - looks like those domestic genes took a toll on the tigress' hypothetical apex predator status. "Well. Scales go down easy, there," she says. "That's all I have on how scales are neat. Now, if you got me started on feathers..."

00:47 Gyro Feather doesnt even really notice the lump as he gets comfortable where he lays. The bird watches the scene intensely, quivering his head feathers upon hearing her mention the feel of feathers. "You're right, us feathered creatures arent worth the trouble."

00:48 Shows-His-Scales quirks his head, turning his hand over in her paw and running it forward, so her fingers are tracing a path up his forearm. "Oh? You like feathers even more than you like scales?"

00:51 Der certainly noticed as the body over him shifted, getting comfortable, small movements that ground him hard against the couch cushioned and flattening him out more, leaving the bird hopelessly pinned under some unknown part.

00:51 Tiptoe glances aside to Gyro, pretending to ignore him - but she makes sure she can hear what she has to say next. "Yes! They're so... messy. Flying everywhere, getting all mussed with the slightest disturbance. It's very fun - doesn't go down easy, no, but fun," she purrrrs, eyes widening with a predatory gleam. She curls her fingers against his arm, half-consciously rubbing up along his scales, letting him explore at his leisure.

00:53 Gyro Feather opens his beak to agree with the cat once more as she begins to explain, but then...as she goes on the words die in his throat. He wiggles on the couch nervously now, grinding the smaller gryphon up against his balls and taint, spreading his musk across him. Maybe it was best if he left her without having really taking much notice of her...she was looking a little too playful this evening.

00:55 Shows-His-Scales grins, showing a few sharp teeth as he reaches up and strokes a finger along his own little crest. "Well then, I suppose I'm glad I only have these few. Maybe there's something to be said about going down easy after all, eh?"

00:57 Tiptoe playfully stands and reaches up to stroke over his crest with just a single finger, watching them press against his head under the pressure and then pop back up. "Oh, I couldn't play with these, I'd feel bad," she says. "I wouldn't want to have you go bald on me."

01:01 Shows-His-Scales nods. "It'd be terribly sad. I don't have many of them, but I would look very strange without these, wouldn't I? But if there were somebody around with a good full plumage... Now, you could certainly make some feathers fly then~"

01:01 Der slowly began to realize where he ended up, somewhere he'd normally want to be after hitting on a guy, but right now under the unrelenting weight the bird wanted to be anywhere else. The heavy musky smell rubbing over him with every movement, grinding into him and quickly replacing his own scent with a new one. A scent that was familiar to the bird, but getting squeezed and rubbed all over, he couldn't focus enough to place it.

01:03 Tiptoe huffs, resting her chin on her palm. "You've gone at gotten me all hungry for poultry, now."

01:04 Shows-His-Scales laughs. "Oh, how awful!"

01:06 Gyro Feather begins to sweat now as he hears the chatter going on by the cat just a couple tables away from his couch, adding to the scents that Der could enjoy. As he rocks back and forth on the smaller bird, he works him further backwards along hsi crack towards the base of his tail. THere might now be enough room for him to get the gryphons attention if he wanted., as that large donut rubs on his feathers. He really hopes that the cat doesnt notice him as he sips on his drink. Maybe he should make for the exit?

01:11 Tiptoe then turns her eyes over her shoulder again, broad nose twitching. "If you'll excuse me," she says to Shows-His-Scales, and she steps off of the bar stool, striding casually closer to where she sees - and smells - Gyro quaking in his plumage. The tiger reaches into the tote on her shoulder and draws out her phone when she approaches the gryphon, tabbing through, looking for something. "It's rude to eavesdrop," she says to the peacock-griff bluntly, tail swaying back and forth behind her in anticipation.

01:17 Der was left damp under the sweating mammal backside, heat trapped by the couch under both of them. Der certainly would be indistinguishable from the gryphon's rear, smelling just like it. Under the comparatively spacious area just under Gyro Feather's tail, Der squirmed out of habit, feeling the rear entrance roll over him and grinding over his feathers. Reaching his talons up he tries to push it away and pressing on either side of the strong muscular ring.

01:20 Gyro Feather scampers backwards as he suddenly catches the attention of the cat, causing his weight to shift off of the smaller bird who'd been trapped down there. "E-eaves drop? I would never in my life do anything like that. I'm just sitting hear enjoying a drink by my lonesome..." He deliberately drains the glass and starts to stand up. "Oh...look at that, I guess I better go get myself a refill then...I'm pretty thirsty tonight," he syas, with a nervous edge evident in his tone, and an even more prominent smell coming up off of him.

01:28 Tiptoe grins playfully at him, eyes wandering between the nervous griff and whatever she has pulled up on her phone. "Oh, don't let me keep you," she says, stepping aside 'politely' - he's free to go to the bar, but she stands between him and the exit. "Did you know? People wear masks on the back of their heads to ward off tiger attacks, because tigers prefer to strike when people turn their backs. I just thought that was worth sharing." Tiptoe gazes to her phone and quirks the corner of her mouth into a pleased smile, and she raises her opposite hand, murmuring something unintelligible under her breath and snapping her fingers - and subtle blue light starts to dance along her fingertips.

01:31 Der was rolled as Gyro Feather shifted backwards, tumbling under his taint and balls and appearing like a ruffled mess as the gryphon stood up, sucking in the cool bar air with a noticeable gasp the first chance he got. Blinking his eyes open, he looked up to see the underside of a familiar blue bird, and partly viable tiger right in front of him. Der froze, though white body stood out against the fabric

01:32 Gyro Feather takes her word of warning to heart and back away from her, facing her the entire time. "RIght then...well...you wouldnt attack me right? Is that a warning?" He asks, as he continues moving backwards. This has the inevitable consequence of soon leaing him to crash into a chair, knocking it down and shattering the glass in the process. THe gryphon falls into a heap and blushes beneath his feathers. "Oh ummm...clumbsy me...heh heh..." He decides hes far enough now and turns his back, heading on over to get a new margarita, though as its being made he keeps glancing over his shoulder.

01:42 Tiptoe notices Der out of the corner of her eye, but pays him no mind for now - she's mid-incantation, she can't be having distractions. Another few quiet words and a faint buzzing noise can be heard from Tiptoe's glowing fingers, as she reaches to her tote again, drawing out a little box. She pops it open, plucks out a small stored-away caterpillar's cocoon, and crushes it between her fingers. "Polymorph," she purrs more audibly, and that bright blue rockets from her fingers over her stripes in an arcane wave. Then she steps forwards, following Gyro at a lazy, casual pace. If he peeks back now, he might notice that she's doubled in height - a moment later, he will see that her clothes have twisted into her body, engulfed in fur, twisting into subtle disturbances in her stripe pattern as she lurches forwards as the quadrupedal form of an enormous dire tiger overtakes her. Her eyes are the same, though, striking blue and confident, as she pads behind the griffon and raises a powerful paw to slam down upon him.

01:50 Gyro Feather gets his drink all fixed up and raises it to his beak, simultaneously turning around as he feels a large shadow cast down over his figure. He looks up at Tiptoe who's now a fair bit taller than him...if she had been roughly his size before, albeit standing on two legs, she was now far more than double his own size, and the way she stared down at him was rather menacingly. "W-what?" He asks, confused about the whole situation now. His glass is still raised near his head so should she slam her paw down, she's likely to drench him in his own fruity drink. "{erhaps I....better take off for real tonight," he finally says, starting to edge away along the bar.

01:51 Der stayed completely still, even as that tiger's eye glanced over him. The bird lets out a sight of relief watching her walk off towards Gyro and leaving him be. Der flops his head down, less out of tiredness now, but weakness, he body would certainly be bruised and wings were such a mess they were unless to fly. The only advantage Der had is he got an excellent view of Tiptoe transform and go to strike the peacock.

01:56 Tiptoe brings a huge paw down over Gyro, slamming him roughly to the ground! Tiptoe leans forward, testing her weight atop him, popping free just a hint of her sharp claws to... disincentive him from struggling, lest his pretty plumage get spoiled with more than just his drink. "That smells more appetizing on you," she rumbles, her new size lending her voice appropriate depth. "You were stinking of fear before. Nice in its own right, but I do love something sweeter," the tigress intones, tail swaying just as before, but now much more likely to knock over other patrons' drinks.

02:00 Gyro Feather gasps as he feels the paw come down hard, knocking the breath from his lungs as he's sent sprawling to the ground. THere's a crash of glass as it shatters against his breast, spilling the fruity margarita upon himself, which soaks up greedily into his feathers. He eiggles beneath that paw, not carring as her claws dig into his body, especially as her threats grow all the more ominous in her voice. "Ummm...but I dont want to smell appetizing...it...attaracts unwanted attention," he protests, though his movements are fruitless for him to escape.

02:05 Tiptoe tilts her head, face inscrutable now that she's surrendered finer control of her expressions. Her eyes are amused, perhaps. "Oho! Too late," she purrs, lowering her face closer, washing hot kitty breath over him with every word. "You've attracted my unwanted attention, bar snack. You think you've had enough to get me tipsy?" she wonders aloud, bringing up another paw to pin him by one of his forelimbs. She roughly brushes the glass from his chest with a swipe of the side of her paw, and then she leans in close, pressing her broad tongue to his tummy all the way up his neck in an indulgent slurp - leaving him dripping with slimy, vaguely coffee-smelling tiger drool.

02:12 Gyro Feather wrinkles his face as her hot humid breath blasts down over him, carrying some scent of her past meals, leaving him gagging. The air is stale and meaty, and peppers him with some of the cat's sticky drool, and fills his thoughts with ideas of what goes on down beyond those jaws. Shuddering, he redoubles his efforts when suddenly he's left even more spread by anothe rpaw. "I'm...I'm not a barsnack," he protest, with a shrillness rising in his voice. THat becomes a loud squeak as her hot tongue drags against the grain of his feathers, leaving htem stuck upwards as she takes a taste. Hot drool works into his coat, matting him down, while it pulls off the sour flavor, the musk of his fear, and another somewhat tropical flavor, the preening oils the bird uses to scent himself.

02:20 Tiptoe 's previous subtle purr is now a full-on engine in Tiptoe's new form, a rolling, rumbling roil of delight that practically vibrates Gyro beneath the big cat. Her stomach growls impatiently - before it was sated, but it's quite a bit bigger now, and no longer satisfied. The tigress looks at him, then glances to the bar directly beside them, and then back to him - she doesn't have to say a word, his status as a bar snack is self-evident. As such, she really doesn't have to be treating him with more dignity than a chicken wing, besides her own penchant for playing with her food. That fruity tasting oil compels her to take another few sloppy licks, though, the cat grunting happily as she draws her rough tongue over his feathers, taking deep messy tastes of her meal. Then she draws her head back to survey her handiwork - the absolute mess she's made of his plumage, especially, his pretty feathers sticky and dark and clumping, leaving his vulnerable flesh below peeking through. His struggling is met with a lazy shift of her weight, Tiptoe keeping his arms secured effortlessly. "Okay, no more playing, I've only got an hour to get a head start on you or I'll have an awful stomachache," she says, almost apologetic for the fact that she won't be able to torment him longer. With that, she lowers her head over him to snag his torso between her gleaming teeth, lifting him tenderly up in her mouth like a toy, another hot exhale blasting through his wet feathers.

02:30 Gyro Feather can feel his entire body vibrating when she growls into him, a motion reinforced by the dark fear coursing through his veins now. He couldnt end up as cat food...this just wasnt fair. Still, as he goes to protest again, he gets a beak full of htat hot goopy drool that leaves him sputtering and otherwise silent. He's still catchign his breath by the time she's done, and a large puddle of drool had started to form around his figure, hosting within it little tufts of loose down that had been dragged out by the unceremonious assault. He's easily pinned beneaht her larger form as the paw holds firm on his chest, taking up much of it. "N-no...play all you want!" He encourages, hoping to distract her and buy some more time. Alas, there's nothig he can do as her jaws come down wide, exposing the sharp sinister teeth within and the slimy wet tunnel beyond that. Saliva drizzles down and splatters on his face, and soon even his back is drenched as he's swept up into htos jaws. The teeth cut into his back painfully, and the bird pushes against the teeth with his claws trying to work himself free of that terrifying chamber

02:39 Tiptoe squeezes her jaws around Gyro nice and snug, teeth digging painfully into his flesh - but not quite piercing. She holds him up in the air and walks with him, carrying him effortlessly back towards her previous seat in the bar. The now-enormous tiger lazily plops herself on her side next to Shows-His-Scales in a big old THUMP of tiger, still with that squirming, terrified mouthful of feathers. Now that she's properly seated, she tosses her head, and Gyro is for a moment weightless - before she snags him in her terrible jaws once more, this time with his butt pointing close enough to straight towards her throat, teeth pressing insistently up against his sternum and shoulders and around his body. This is only for a half-second before she adjusts him again with ANOTHER lazy toss, snapping her teeth near-shut in front of his face with her tongue pressed hot and hungry up against his front and smushing him up against the roof of her mouth, his vision divided between dusky ivory and whatever glimpses of the bar he can get between her teeth. His limbs stick awkwardly out the sides of his mouth while feathers drift away, and all the while her deafening purring vibrating him to the core. Then - *ULP*. With crushing force of hot, stinking muscle, she presses her tongue up and over his face, pressing him ass-first down into her gullet.

02:41 Der smirks, taking much pleasure in watchin that blue and purple gryphon slip between the tiger's jaws

02:42 Shows-His-Scales watches, absolutely fascinated, as Tiptoe works her meal down in such proximity to him, her massive new self so close he can see the individual hairs, and the twitches of muscles under her coat as she swallows. He has no wish to interrupt the meal, so for now he just observes, leaning forward on his stool. [b]Fascinating[/b]~

02:42 Tiptoe brings her eyes to Der. He's next, if he stays put!

02:43 Der was sad that he couldn't read minds, otherwise he would know to start hobbling away right now and maybe get to safety. The tiger was far enough away, and probably going to be full with a meal that he didn't even register the sharp eyes looking back at him, much less as a threat.

02:47 Gyro Feather is certainly having no fun as she carries him against her sharp lower teeth which are digging in painfully, pulling out more of his pretty purple feathers as she walks back over towards the large lizard. "G-get her to let me g---aaaahhh!" His begging turns tino a scream as he's jerked upwards into the air, scraping his flesh for only a moment before he leaves the hot jaws of that beast. Its short lived though, for despite his wings flaring instinctually to draw himself away from there, his feathers are far too damp to allow him to catch any real air. They bristle in the air before he lands with a heavy splat inside the cat's jaws. He can feel a wet uncomfrotable pressure at the back of his body now, while his sharp digits dug into her tongue. Another toss and everything goes dark with those jaws sealing beore him. He gives a mighty shout, begging to be let go, only to be silenced as the tongue forces him backwards. A large gulp echoes all oaur nd him in his ears, followed by the thumping of hte cat's heart as he's drawn into her gullet, creating a reasonably large bulge along the underside, and heading down towards her gurgling belly.

02:55 Tiptoe downs him in one swallow. In moments that must feel like a lifetime to him, she gulps him down, pressing his soggy form down into a tidy bulge rolling down her thick throat and vanishing into her proud chest. Inside, smothering muscle rolls him in an implacable wave, the pounding of her heart and scratchy white noise of her purring deafening. Her gullet presses the breath from his lungs, contorts him in ways he may have thought his body could never manage. It's hard to say that reaching her stomach would be a relief, but at least when Gyro is forced through into that sac - still punishingly cramped, despite the tiger's size! - at least he won't feel like he's a pretzel anymore. That isn't to say that there's room in her gut, though. It's pitch black, acrid, and STINKS, stale coffee and digestive juices and little bits of unidentifiable food clinging to Gyro's ruined plumage in thick ropes as the thick, slick muscles all around rhythmically squeeeeeeeeeze at him and then ease up. Tiptoe casts her gaze over to the lizard, expression vaguely smug, and she rolls on to her belly playfully. That little bulge becomes near invisible against gravity and the thickness of her fur, but that subtle, shifting little swell persists.

03:02 Gyro Feather struggles in that throat as he's left, trapped there for what seems like ages, but is only a vew seconds as the muscles contract infront of his head and open behind his butt, allowing him to be sucked deeper and deeper along the corridor. His hind legs had been caught at awkward angles, reasulting in some painful tweaking of his joints as the air is forced from hsi lungs. THe noises all around him are deafening, and growing even louder as he approaches her stomach. The core itself is swelteringly hot as he splashes down into the juices, soon leaving him sweating within that chamber. The chyme thats in there with him takes up half of the chamber, with objects that seem to squish like mud beneath his armpits clinging to his feathers. The odor itself is absoutely unbearable, the smell of vomit mixed with day old meat mingling together in a sensation leaving him wanting to gag. Claws and paws push out against the powerful walls of the belly as they squeeze back down on him, making it all incredibly difficult fo rhim to fight.

03:03 Shows-His-Scales has to admit, he almost feels like he ought to take a cold shower after watching the gryphon just lazily...vanish. Behind pink fleshy folds, then again as the tight bulge he makes in her throat sinks into her midsection. Truth be told, though he hadn't been intimidated when she'd mentioned scales going down easy before, if she were to say it again in [b]this[/b] form he certainly would be intimidated! [sub]And a little aroused, but that's neither here nor there.[/sub] In spite of that he looks right into that inverted, smug face - smug in a way that only a feline can be - and says: "Well, I suppose you want a bellyrub or such right now, hmm?"

03:05 Der simply smirks from where he still lay on the couch, that rude gryphon just disappearing into the tiger like it was nothing, not often seeing something so big go down so easily

03:09 Tiptoe perks her ears at Shows-His-Scales, wiggling on her back in absolute delight, presenting that swollen belly for his attentions! The cute act is in stark contrast to what her body is subjecting Gyro to inside. Every movement of her body sends the contents of her stomach roiling around him, forcing him to roll and slip around in the thick mess of her stomach, only able to find some kind of footing when those walls press around him like a ruthless slimy vice. The scant air is heavy and hot and stings to breathe, but he's got enough to squirm and struggle for a little while longer, the tiger's tummy juuuuust roomy enough to ruthlessly press at him without at least putting him out of his misery.

03:14 Gyro Feather was already starting to feel the bite of her acids against his coat now, the longer he remained in there, causing an uncomfortable itching along the whole of his body as it ate at the layer of dead skin on top. No where he settled his weight down seemed to remain firm for long, giving and then crushing around him, straining his bones painfully but never quite breaking them. Each breath leaves him coughing, forcing them to be quite shallow indeed as he's left fairly eshuasted. Occasionally he even finds himself beneath the surface of the muck, allowing his beak to fill with the mystery liquid, burning at his tongue and tasting bitter and meaty. "S-spit me back up dammit!" He calls out, though his words probably hardly make it beyond her belly.

03:17 Shows-His-Scales rolls his eyes at the display, but he kneels beside her, cracking his knuckles before leaning in and pressing both hands to her gut, feeling softness, softness, squish, Aha! There's the firmness of Gyro's body, slopping and squirming about underneath all that fur and flesh! He presses down hard, glancing at Tiptoe's head out the corner of one eye. "You just ate a live gryphon, whole and squirming. How can you be cute after [b]that[/b]? It makes no sense." Doesn't stop him from rubbing, his hands making wide circles against her slightly swollen paunch, with a firm pressure transmitted through his palms, and the tips of each digit.

03:21 Tiptoe closes her eyes, that motorcycle engine of her purring going loud as ever. Inside her gut the air gets thinner and thinner, heavier and hazier, the pitch darkness of her gut starting to creep into the gryphon's mind as he runs out of time. Her stomach doesn't have all that much time before Tiptoe's back to normal, and it's very intent to make good time breaking Gyro down into thick, nutritious slop. The argonian can feel the squirming of Tiptoe's prey under his hands, but only when he applies quite a lot of pressure - layers of muscle, fat, fur and powerful stomach are highly intent on muffling that little bulge for good.

03:26 Gyro Feather could feel himself weakening in there by the minute as he uses up what little air had mreinaed in that chamber. His flesh ached from where the acids bit into him, stripping his fur and feathers from his form, as did hsi lungs. FIghting and moving inside taht ever shifting belly was a pain in the ass too, as the muscles ensured every motin was futile and left him pretty drained, especially when combined with the heat and humidtiy. After a reasonable struggle cuaght inside, teh gryphon finally passes out inside of her, nothing more than a lump of meat like all the other meat that shared it with him.

03:29 Shows-His-Scales chuckles, mostly to himself, starting to dig his fingertips in a little harder, his circles getting smaller and tighter. "Ah, felines~ You're all just one good rub away from being housecats sometimes!" he teases, not sure if the slowing bumps and then the eventual cessation of motion is just because of how hard he has to push to really feel Gyro, or because the gryphon really has given up and started to churn away in earnest. "Afraid I can't give you too much more, it's about time I were taking myself away to sleep..."

03:34 Tiptoe lazily opens her eyes and closes them again when she feels those struggles cease, and she rolls on to her stomach, licking her chops and giving Shows-His-Scales an affectionate bump on the shoulder with her big nose. G'night! The cat curls up and settles in for a little nap of her own, taking up an unfortunate amount of floor space when she curls up. She occasionally twitches, and if one listens close the occasional *crack* or low, bubbling groan can be heard from her hefty sides.
19-02-02 03:36] *Der got to watch such a wonderful show, cocky gryphon getting swallowed down and kneaded into nothing. All from the safety of his comfy couch

03:36 Shows-His-Scales scratches behind one of her ears in his own reply to her bump. "And a good night to you too. Maybe we'll see each other around~" With that he stands, stretches with a short groan, rising to an almost en-pointe pose with his arms up above his head, then saunters out, tail swaying behind himself~

03:40 Der is slightly sad that Tiptoe's threatening look proved to be nothing more then a lazy bluff, not that the bird is upset with getting to hold onto his feathers for another day

03:40 < Tiptoe> Another day, another bird!

03:58 Tiptoe twitches - and then her eyes open and she draws herself up with an annoyed grunt, a familiar blue spark running through her stripes. It starts at her paws - Tiptoe's extremities turn slender again, her thumb distinct once more from the rest of her paws, and all of the thick fur in her body draws back alongside muscle and flesh. She squeezes her eyes shut with a huff as her head shrinks back to its normal size in one uncomfortable-looking spark of blue across her features, and her clothes return back to their place just in time for her boobs to return beneath. "Hrk. Fuck," she breathes, before letting out a loud, gross belch - she can't help herself, that bulge in her gut is now proportionally QUITE a lot bigger. Looks like she played with her food a little too long for her own comfort.

04:15 Tiptoe slips into a bathroom stall, locking it nice and secure, grunting softly as she pulls her pants down and sits on the cold toilet seat. Her tummy's still a bit bloated, but hopefully she can get some relief now! Tail curled up over her tight, she leans over and pulls out her phone, tabbing over random updates as she takes a nice long piss. As the loud spray of urine dies down to a dribble, the tigress tenses her brow and tenses - ah. Feathers. Her digestive system is remarkably thorough - except for feathers. Tiptoe takes a long, difficult time shitting out the last of Gyro, the uncomfortable prodding and tickle of half-digested feathers stuck in her waste slowing her down. She does derive a certain joy from the ordeal, but she's happy do be done when she's done taking her dump, leaving the bowl full of kitty shit and ruined peacock plumage behind with a little pile of toilet paper and an unremarkable flush.

04:27 < Austin Wolfclaw> ((poor gryphon))

04:29 < Felix Matthewson> Meow~ Nice job, Tip!

04:29 < Tiptoe> Lucky gryphon, more like!