If I Die Young | Fitch |

[Tonjes]

Her nose was stinging with the cold air outside, the metal crate that she had been loaded into swinging slightly from side to side. They'd decided to release her farther from the rings, more into retro territory to see if the retro's would recognize her as a shifter; because she had not returned to her human form since she had been captured. Tonjes was already standing, shivering from fear and cold, and her hip ached as she tried to steady herself on her remaining three sturdy legs. Her eyes were wild and wide, glancing out the small slits in her container; the snowy scene mixed with the strange jackets and shoulders of the men carrying her. The snow was crushed under the container as it was set down by the small army of security that had been selected to see to her release.

She growled under her breath, more out of anxiety than any kind of threat as the cage door was slowly slid upwards, as if they expected her to come exploding out of the cage. She whined, unsure of what was wanted from her, and one of the men gave an exaggerated sigh as they waited. They gave her several minutes, but she wasn't willing to leave, not even out into this foreign land. There was an upheaval, the cage's opening suddenly pointing downward, her nails sliding across the metal as the back of it tipped forward to dump her out into the snow. The cold surprised her, a yelp mangling out of her lips as she struggled up to her feet; running before she could even process the five men behind her.

"Yeah you run girl!" One of them called, then grunted as he was elbowed by a comrade. She took no time in really listening to them, reaching the safety of a thicket of trees before slowing and taking in the scenery around her. Everything looked strange, even the sunlight was incredibly bright. Her limp was pronounced as she slowed, head up and ears alert as she tried to understand the signals that her nose was telling her. It was all a jumbled mess, since she had no idea what things she was smelling exactly; and it was all so very overwhelming. Her ears flattened, a twittering of a bird making her jump, her paws freezing already from the cold. Where was she? A shiver made its way up her back, the wind's chill blowing right through her coat.

Several weeks passed since she'd been unceremoniously dumped in the Bellator heartland, hiding in the deep brush of the thicket and avoiding the strange animals that tromped through her hiding place. Her pace was slow, and her stomach was cramped with hunger. She hadn't eaten in over three days, and spent more energy trying to inefficiently hunt than actually catching anything. She'd been lucky, catching a few small hares on pure instinct, alone. She'd also found a farm and had been digging up a few plants that she had been choking down before being chased away by dogs.

Her sleeping spot changed every day, she never stayed in the same patch of thicket for more than one day, and currently she was looking for a new place to sleep. Her body was crouched low beneath the thorns, crawling on her belly despite the pain in her leg; and finding the deepest, darkest spot in the thicket. Thorns poked at her sides, but she curled up anyway, burying her nose under her tail and laying awake for the longest time; just listening to the world as the sun slowly set and the skies grew dark once more.

[Fitch]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 498px; height: 414px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/rw71xk.jpg)] One thing winter had taught him was: Never eat yellow snow. Ha! No, seriously though- winter was something that Fitch enjoyed above all things. Cold never seemed to bother him, it was questionable as to how that was the case, but he tended to bite the bullet and just ignore the nipping of cold at the end of his fingertips. The snow had fallen; there was no doubting that for a second. The world had turned into one huge marshmallow coated wonderland, where sounds were muffled beyond recognition beneath a thick dusting of ice-cold frosting and corners had been rounded and edges softened. Here and there, bare twigs pierced the white veil, and grass blades stabbed holes through areas that lay thin. Regardless of the covering, the shadows moved ominously, perhaps more ominously on this one occasion than normal. One shadow in particular bled as ink over crisp white paper, kicking up dusty crystals in his wake as he strode out with the confidence of a creature entirely in the knowledge of his surroundings, and steadfast in his footing despite losing the massive plates of his hooves deep with each step he threw out before him. All the excitement and zeal of a colt, his heels kicked up and his tail held out as a proud banner behind him. The coat, a void where light was sucked into oblivion and with a violet hued sheen of health that rippled over the serpentine movements of muscles writhing beneath velvet. To say that the creature was formidable from a distance would be perhaps, selling him short. Fitch had spent so much time walking around on two human legs that, getting out and enjoying stretching his limbs in another form was attractive in ways that he had never deemed possible. He tore through the flake laden breeze in a flurry of black crimped silk threads that spiralled and bounced away from the muscle of his swan arched neck. The arch was such that his chin practically pressed against his brisket, with his ears pricked firmly forwards. With each fluid, graceful forward punching of limbs, the powerful bellows of his lungs heaved frigid air through dilated nares, air which he expelled in violent snorted streams. Those that were allowed to leave of their own accord rose in spiralling tendrils of silvered breath that dissipated far above his head. The sound of metal grinding metal and human voices rang like a dog whistle against his eardrum. It brought his carefree gallop across the scrubland to a brisk halt. Fitch dug the massive concave bulk of his hooves deep into the frozen earth beneath the snow and pretty much skidded to a stop. Snow was sprayed in various directions, along with clods of earth with its attached grass and his mane and tail finally caught onto the fact that they were to stop, but momentum meant that they overshot their normal resting place resulting in his vision being obscured just at the wrong moment. He flicked his head curtly, and snorted as he made several attempts at focussing on the horizon through the thick, unkempt curls of his forelock and now dishevelled mane. He tossed his head again, this time releasing a soft throaty nickering sound of curiousness that vibrated the edges of his nostrils and pulled his muzzle into a momentary sneer. It was a sneer which erased itself almost as soon as it had materialised, he practically shook it off along with making yet another attempt at rearranging his mane and forelock by bobbing his head. The keen, gold-flecked brown of his eyes, all encompassing to its glassy depths, had picked out a very strange scene just meters from where he’d ground to a halt, where his hooves had literally carved tracks deep in the snow and frozen soil like hot knives through butter. He lifted his right foreleg, The blur of colour that shot from the metal crate in the distance, the leering of the on looking crowd and the various vehicles flanking the crate were enough to suggest that something new had been dropped off, somewhere whatever ‘it’ was, was completely unfamiliar with. There was a flash of recognition through those partially concealed eyes, and a flash of malice that dissipated all too readily and gave way to empathy. There was one thing that truly troubled him, REALLY just tap-danced right across each and every raw nerve and that was: The Keepers. His own history regarding that particular barrel of fun was... somewhat sketchy at best. It was something that he preferred not to talk about, unless forced into a corner, as it were. After a ridiculous level of jeering and shouting at the creature that had clearly shot from the belly of the iron box in which it had been carried, the men gathered up their equipment and turned back to their respective vehicles, only to get into them and, presumably, drive back to the compound. Once Fitch was at least semi-sure that they had disappeared, that the engine sounds that roared off towards the horizon were indeed going in the correct direction, he lifted his muzzle to the breeze and sampled it with a deep inhalation and slow exhalation. Whatever the creature was, had gone, though its scent was one that he committed to memory there and then, for future reference. As such, he stepped forwards gingerly before hopping and plummeting gracefully into a steady trot to intersect the path that the other creature had taken before its disappearance. It was several weeks later that he found himself in a similar position, and yet there was no obvious sign of The Keepers in close proximity. He’d elected to adopt his equine form, and again had decided that a canter through retro lands would get his blood pumping, and clear his head. Things back at the camp had become somewhat, strained, one might say. With Fitch being the type of personality he was, he took quite a lot to heart and found it difficult to distance himself from situations that really weren’t any concern of his. It’s undeniably hard when others drag you into their rubbish without a second thought as to your mental health. Stress was something that Fitch was aware of, and yet not entirely used to dealing with, being too laid back usually to actually come up against such a phenomenon. He passed the thicket at a long, even paced trot with his tail flagging behind him. It was as the long, loosely waved black fibres of his tail snagged against a bramble tendril, and said vine pulled forwards and lashed back at him, that Fitch simultaneously lost all composure and recognised the scent he’d memorized all those weeks ago. Indeed he, quite literally, leaped to the side as nimble as a ballerina and threw his hind legs out with all the strength he could muster, only to canter forwards a couple of strides and throw his weight into the air, his forelimbs boxing out, shaking the feathers that adorned his fetlocks in the breeze as he bellowed in both shock and terror at whatever had slapped him over the back of his legs- “OH, WHAT IN THE ACTUAL F---” He whinnied, crashing through the shrub on the furthest side of the thicket and getting himself into a further tangle. He tossed his head, and lashed out with all four massive pillars before managing to clamber through the thorns and thickly entwined branches to land on the grass just a meter away from it, and he paced irritably back and forth, snorting like an angry boar with his ears firmly plastered against the back of his skull... like it was all the fault of the shrubbery. Which in all fairness, it probably was.

[Tonjes]

Sleep was certainly hard to come by in this place, even with the inky darkness around her trying to coil around her like a blanket, all that she could think about was how her hair had onec created a similar darkness over her eyes. This caused her ears to fall back against her head, a low and pitiful sounding whine rising up out of her throat. It hadn't been very warm in the house either, not with all of the windows in her room open to lessen the smells that certainly lingered in the very walls. That sort of thing tended to happen when one was trapped to a small single bedroom for sixteen years. Her hip complained, which truthfull was not helping with the sleeping situtation, and she shifted in the brambles to try to find a more comfortable sleeping position.

It was a constant struggle between comfort and warmth, and the made a note to perhaps see if she could find a blanket to add to her small belongings. Namely, her person but maybe she could find a safe place to actually have belongings. Then again, settling into one place didn't seem safe at all. Her mind was abound with such thoughts, and keeping at bay the memories of her captivity when there was an explosion. Not an actual one per say, but it caused her to jump, a thundering sound and then suddenly crashing noises all around her. What fresh hell was this?

Her heart was pounding, the monster crushing everything in its wake and nearly her in the process; the horribe sound it made sending her into a panic that made her feel like she was going to most certainly die. A hoof came down on her tail, prompting a frightened yelp. Luckily for her, she dodged to the left, avoiding anymore steps on her body and allowing her to escape well away from the monster's path of destruction.

Tonjes moved as quickly as she could out of the bramble bush and into the open. The red wolf fled to the shelter of the trees, eyes wide with terror and curiosity as she watched the huge black monster. She huddled near the bottom of one of the trees, trying to calm her racing heart and mind as the horse went to and fro, glaring at the shrubbery. Was he looking for her? The thought caused her ears to fall back against her head as she tried to gather up her courage, the shift sliding over her fur and causing it to receed.

It hurt once it reached her fractured hip, her teeth gritting together to keep her from crying out with her now human vocal chords until it was complete and she was left panting against the tree. It would be dangerous now, talking to the dark beast, but her hands could help her to climb the low laying branches and get her well off of the ground. She had to kneel on her knees, since her hip hurt far too much to allow her to crouch near the base of her tree. Her hands scrambled into the dirt, finding a smooth stone which she threw with all her strength (which wasn't much being honest) in his direction.

"Menj, te szörnyeteg!" She yelled, her voice surprisingly feminine and high pitched. Her Hungarian was a little rough, since it had been several years since she'd spoken to anyone, let alone tried to yell at someone. She used the tree to get back on her feet, using it as cover as she palmed the small handful of rocks in her posession. Her cropped head peered around the side of the tree, her eyes widening as she looked for the figure again.

Translation: Go on, you monster!

[Fitch]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 498px; height: 414px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/rw71xk.jpg)] The snow and mud had churned into an oatmeal mess beneath the stamping of massive hooves. Fitch paced and powered through the tangle of thorn vines only to burst out of them scattering shards of wood and leaf in various directions. With the long, waved locks of his tail and mane now littered with foliage and fractured branch, he’d lifted his foreleg and had slammed the hoof, hard onto something more forgiving than frozen soil. The roar of a whinny all but drowned the yelp that was barely noticeable over the sounds of a large body crashing around in the undergrowth. The leaf silhouette of his ears pressed firmly against the back of his skull, and he narrowed his eyes as he stared down scornfully at the rhythmically swaying mesh of organic matter that had seemingly attacked him. It had been the culmination of a day filled to the brim with irritation and general angst. This being said, the massive form of the Friesian stallion suddenly became motionless, and his ears shot to the summit of their normal position, pricked and almost kissing at the tips as his massive roman nosed features whipped round to follow the streak of colour that burst from the thicket. Fitch struggled to focus on whatever it was, straightening his posture and squaring his shoulders to better align his head and neck. With the warm brown of his eyes narrowed, and his nares dilated to better sample the breeze that betrayed pretty much anyone that it touched. It was a red mammal. Possibly a canine judging by the scent of damn dog that hung warm in the otherwise freezing breeze. The creature, whatever canine thing it might have been buried itself in the thick of leaves and bracken a few hundred meters from Fitch’s assassin vines, and to his visible surprise, the animal melted to a human female. Something that Fitch was used to seeing, but in the context of the situation was, somewhat perturbing considering he hadn’t been aware of her presence to start with and that she had, most likely, been the soft, forgiving piece of ground he’d so liberally stomped on. His expression fell and was somewhat, perplexed for a moment. The angle of his head altered, and his ears flickered on the oblique in a querying manner. He’d most likely fractured something attached to her, be it a limb, or a tail. The remorse he felt for his outburst of mindlessly throwing his weight around, in that split second, before being pelted by a rather sizeable stone was deep and actually, quite uncomfortable. However, once the rock stung against his temple, impacted his skull and rebounded, it broke the skin leaving a gash in its wake that oozed rich red over black silk. He deer leaped to the side, kicking out with the pillars of his hind limbs, a roar of a whinny rattled between his lips, and tore through the surrounding area like the crack of thunder. “OUCH...F---!? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” He careened forwards in an explosion of what looked like black ink through water, literally pelting his sinewy bulk into a couple of rounds of a flat out gallop before skidding to a halt, rearing up and punching the air that surged around him like it had done him some wrong. He frothed. He paced back and forth snorting and whinnying, further churning the soil and snow together to make a wet, muddy concoction that stuck the strands of his thick feathering together in cloyed dreadlocks. Fitch seethed, champing his jaws together and grinding the serrated edges of molars against their partners before he came to a complete stand-still. His attention never quite leaving the spot where he assumed the rock had been flung from. Through the large, well carved openings of his nostrils, he heaved a breath deep into his core. Sucked the frigid, snow saturated air and released it in a torrent of silver ribbons that wound and knotted around one another before being carried off and dissipating to nothing. Fitch dropped his head to the ground and nudged at the snow curiously, taking in the finer layers of chilled scent that hung close to the paw prints that gave way to human foot-falls, his top lip drawing circles in the snow before the convex shape of his muzzle was raised, and the warm glittering amber of his eyes settled on the form of the woman crouched beside the tree- “I... have no idea what you’ve just said, lady-“ He nickered softly, “But, I didn’t come out here to get pelted with rocks, ok? Seriously... I’m sorry if I trod on you.” He pawed at the ground, ears pointing forwards and his tail kissing at his heels ever so gently, taken only by the movement of air. “...Just—don’t throw another one, ok? Jesus.”

[Tonjes]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 497px; height: 809px; background-image:url(http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/tonjcopycopy_zpsaf127a77.png)] ooc |sorries it took so long! Her poor tail was certain to be crooked after something like that; and yet she had little time to consider that idea as she crouched near the tree. It was the only defense she had, and she was reluctant to leave her scarce belongings behind, crushed though they might have been. Her rock had been thrown and she hesitated, watching with anxiety as the great black beast stood still for a moment, watching her before exploding once more into chaos. Her eyes already wide, seemed to widen further if it were possible as she moved to hide behind the tree. There was an increase in motion, her hands scrabbling to the tree as she tried to haul herself up it but she was not quite fast enough to escape up the tree. He startled her, and she let go, falling back onto her back, her terror apparent as she let out a wordless scream. The cold bit through her shirt as she scrambled to sit back open, watching his tantrum with a mix of fear and confusion. Tonjes didn't understand this creature, what was it doing!? She watched him, wishing that she could be less afraid of him, but she was unable to decide if he was truly fear worthy or not. Her head tilted gently to one side as he spoke to her again, asking her not to throw anything else at him. Well what was she supposed to do? She frowned, drawing up her good leg as she rested on her hands. "Mit akarsz?" (What do you want?) She shivered in the cold, her dark eyes wandering over his form. "Ön egy démon?" (Are you a demon?) (Is he speaking in shifter tongue or? I just didn't know. I figure if nothing else he would get 'demon' out of it. Sorry for the wait ><)