RUN WITH THE HUNTED [P]

[Ray "East" Kraus]

A brutal, sunny afternoon had bled into a hot, sweltering twilight. Even as the ferocity of the sun abated, temperature was reluctant to lower. It was a windless evening, the air thick with the heat, which showed in the glistening temple and forehead of the Fulsi. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck, and he angrily wiped it away as he came to a stop. His breath came rapidly, not out of fear but exertion, as he settled into a hollow in the rocks, straining his ears. He could no longer hear the sound of pursuit. East lingered there, in the alcove that the rocks offered, and the relative safety of the roar of the river. He had been chased for what seemed like hours by a group of retromorphs. He'd been separated from Emmy early on, after the two of them were sent into Nilda territory in an attempt to map it out more extensively, and count the visible signs of prey animals in the area. Their mission had been cut short when they'd been intercepted by a pair of wolves and two dogs. East tried to convince himself to stand and keep running. Emmy had said to make it to the Fallen border, where they would find relative safety, but that was a long way off. East stifled the sound of his breath as he rolled forward on the balls of his feet. Which direction was that again, exactly? He barely caught the sound of it--the scuff of paw-pads and claws against rock, and the heavy panting of dogs. East was up and running in a matter of seconds, shape-shifting as he shoved himself off the ground. The Asiatic cheetah hit the ground at a lazy run, not full speed (Christ, he didn't want to twist an ankle) but the sound of the dogs became distant after a few minutes, and East stumbled to a walk. He had no idea where he was. The Nilda had his scent, and weren't about to let him get out of their territory, if they had anything to say about it. His ears flicked, and he panted heavily, ribs expanding with each breath. Think, he commanded of himself. He'd left the highlands behind in favor for a mysterious pocket of forest. He began to walk, tail swaying. He thought he was going in the right direction--northwest. He stopped panting and began to breathe through his nose--but what the Hell was that doing here? He stopped abruptly as the scent flooded his nostrils. Smelled like Poppy, he thought, all salfiddlyfarter and... dank, underground. Carna? East's head cocked, and his tail flicked-- Bark! Bark bark bark! He shot upright, and began to run again--towards the roar of the waterfall. He was hoping that by running upstream he might lose them, and he hit the river at a sprint, leaping to the middle of it a hundred yards or so before the drop-off. He swam against the powerful current, until he reached the other side and could slink along the bank, feeling like a drowned rat. After a while, he broke off and made his way back through the woods. The sound of the river faded as he quickened his pace. Quite frankly, East wouldn't have found the entrance to the cavern if he hadn't fallen into it. One second, he was stepping on solid ground. The next? Open air. The cheetah tumbled ungracefully into the opening, which was remarkably steep, and after a few painful scrapes and bangs, he sprawled out with his legs splayed outward, tense and quivering. He had found a damn cave. Fantastic, he thought, not without sarcasm. Did the dogs know about this cave? He was annoyed at his own question. It was in their territory, for Christ's sake! But he wasn't getting anywhere above ground, and the climb out was... well, he cast a backward glance towards the fading light outside, and concluded that it would be pretty difficult to clamber out.. He shook the water from his fur and began to uncertainly make his way deeper into it. He had been told about the catacombs, and thought that there might be another exit somewhere in the woods. The problem was that by the time he was a few yards in, he could see nothing. The pathway of the cave (it was more like a tunnel, really) twisted and winded, with various branch-offs and so on. He became lost within a matter of minutes, and no amount of backtracking revealed to him the hole he'd fallen into. The only bright-side? He couldn't hear the dogs anymore-- That smell, East caught the scent just before the ground slid out from under his front paws, and he was sent face-first down another steep incline, directly into a body. The shock of it made East shift out of reflex, so that when he hit and tried to brace himself, it was as a man with splayed fingers--grabbing at clothes and limbs instead of dirt. "The hell!" Heads banged, knees clanked, and he was pretty sure his nose was about to start bleeding. "Ow... what..."

[Trevor Williams]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:502px;height:536px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/9ler01.png)] Loud and careless laughter floated along the wind, disturbing the evening’s silence, and Trevor shot his companion a look before giving him a low hiss of rebuttal, even as a purr of laughter threatened to bubble in his own throat. “God’s sake, Miles, keep it down. Want the whole pack to come after your tail?” And the jaguarundi flicked his own tail affectionately at the chocolate labrador, whose tail swung in a gentle, friendly arc in response, his head tipped to scent for danger. “The last thing they want is tail, Trevor,” the dog quipped dryly, and the cat dissolved into helpless laughter as Miles added, “Though I probably am just a piece of meat to them. You too. Delicious, appetizing, main course meals.” There was no denying that, at least; the dog retros in the territory weren’t exactly known for their hospitality towards intruders, and they seemed much more likely to turn them into dinner than to negotiate with them. Trev glanced behind them, though his sense of apprehension was low. Even with his ears flicked back, he hadn’t heard a damn thing since they had entered the forest. Maybe the dogs were off chasing a deer or something. It was an eerie sort of quiet, though, the kind that would unsettle most. Talking helped, at least, and Trev was glad for the company, however crudely obnoxious it was. They’d originally come there to explore – not to map the area, per se, but to simply check things out. See if they could find anything useful before they headed back to Carna. Others areas had been checked too, and found wanting. “Maybe they’ll try and adopt you, make you an honorary member and feed you the bones of their victims,” Trev muttered back. This drew a low chuckle, and he could have sworn he heard Miles say something to the effect of ‘screw that’. It made him smile a little; he valued loyalty in others’ to his ring, the kind that mirrored his own. This whole trip would’ve been a lot nicer, though, if it wasn’t so hellishly hot. His sleek coat was even sleeker with sweat, and Miles was panting heavily beside him, tongue lolling to one corner of his mouth. Water would’ve been nice right then, but they’d both finished off the two canteens and the rest was back at the camp with Kevin and Ashlee. So, they endured, and thanked their lucky stars that they weren’t members of Fallen. He felt as though living there would’ve given him perpetual dehydration. They’d just reached the edge of the forest when he saw Miles’ ears perk up, and Trev jerked his own head around, ears flicking back and forth to try and catch what his friend was hearing. The hell was it? “Prey?” Trev whispered, and the dog shook his head. Predators, then. Fantastic. The pair quickened their pace, hurrying towards the shelter of some nearby bushes, but they’d already been detected because the cat heard the sound of baying dogs and— Their route was effectively cut off by the appearance of a snarling, bristling Saint Bernard lunging out from their right side, like something straight out of Cujo – Trev thought he could almost see it foaming at the mouth. He and Miles backed away, recalculating, gauging whether to fight or not. Trev had shifted to a human by this point, his smaller form of little use when cornered, and he had already pulled out a knife in each hand. Miles stayed as a dog – a now very pissed off dog who was snarling back at the other. Trev could hear more dogs coming though, the baying of hounds and the snarling and whistling of much wilder dogs. “Miles, c’mon!” They could slip away, they could, they just had to get to that river and not get eaten alive. But the dogs were fast, far faster than he’d anticipated, and before long they were upon them, charging, mock-lunging, nipping and howling and attacking, and Trevor did his best to try and get them to back off so they could get away. He could hear Miles a short ways off, fighting with the Saint Bernard and another dog that had taken up the fight as well. Blood splattered the ground, and he wasn’t sure whose it was. His own, certainly, was in the mix, as one of the wolves bit his leg and gave it a yank, and he nearly toppled, but instead managed to bash his other foot, with vicious intent, into the side of its head until it decided it was wiser to let go. He’d already maimed a hybrid type dog; he could see it lurking on the fridges, bleeding heavily from a wound across its shoulders – courtesy of one of the knives. Others bit and snapped at him, clawed at him, and he continued to fight them off. And then – oh, that was a horrible noise, Miles yowling in pain, the Bernard at his throat, gripping it tight and ripping and…and there was blood everywhere as the dog’s yowl was cut off abruptly. Those that had been fighting with him now bounded over to where Miles lay, joyous victory in their throats, their attention on the kill. Revulsion made him swallow hard; he knew his friend was dead, there would be no saving him now. So, while they were preoccupied, he did the only thing he could do. He ran. At a crouch, to keep the attention away from him – it was actually not easy to do, this whole crouchrun thing. He figured he never would’ve made it had he joined the army. The river couldn’t be reached at this point – there was a mass of writhing dogs blocking his path. So he went in another direction entirely, unsure of where he was at all except that he was still not out of the woods, and that he was close by the lake and could still hear the waterfall. When the opportunity to hide, then, presented itself in the form of a small cave, he dove right in. And took a very steep tumble for his efforts. He didn’t roll, precisely, but more fell head over heel down a slab of angled and jutting rock and molded earth –stairs?!-, landing in a painful heap at the bottom after feeling like he’d just fallen into a Lewis Carroll story. That was a crock of shit, to say the least. There was no way he was dying his hair blond and donning a bonnet and eating random mushrooms and the like. Though, mushrooms…no. No, there was no room for trips today. Or any day, he reminded himself solemnly. Dalton would’ve been so proud of him. …best not to think of him, lest he miss the bastard. But he did. He always did. There was little time to dwell on the thought as he rolled unsteadily to a sitting position, clutching at his head. That was going to leave a pretty mark, and maybe a nice headache to go with it. Maybe Tain could kiss it better later. He laughed at that, albeit grimly, considering the situation. Alright, Trev, alright. Breathe. The boy did just that, and nearly choked as dirt and debris flew into his lungs. No more of that, then. Just stop breathing. Easier said than done. Damn, though, it was dark too, he realized suddenly. The light from the entrance was little more than a pinhole. Trev didn’t like the dark much; he’d spent too much time in the deep darkness of the sewers, where creepy things liked to lurk. The boy dusted himself off, checked to make sure nothing was broken, and scowled through the darkness at where he knew the several new wounds he’d garnered on his legs and knees and arms would be. Graywall would’ve pitched a fit – dirt and general grossness in cuts was a huge no-no in the dome, considering the risk of infection, which was made all the higher by the limited supplies they had. Grumbling to himself, Trev felt around him for the pack he’d been carrying, and his hand had just closed on one of the straps when something slammed into him at a speed that should’ve been illegal. A loud shout was chased by a loud curse from Trev as he and the something – or someone - rolled a few more feet together…and slid down another bank of rock before coming to a stop at the bottom. Trev could feel a grazed cheek and a split lip as the summary of their collision with each other, and he swore again, his own hands clutching the other’s shirt tightly for a moment, before pushing roughly away, scrambling backwards. The scent from the man – as it was a man - registered distinctly as Fulsi. Dammit all. “If you’re trying to kill us both, just keep doing that!” He shouted through the dark in exasperation, before sprawling back with a groan. “No, wait. I take it back, don’t kill me. I’ve had enough of that for one day.” The boy shoved himself up again, palms pressing against cold stone as he felt around, then glanced up towards where they’d come from, before blinking in the direction he figured the man might be. “Annnnd my pack’s all the way up there. Great. ….who are you, anyways? Bit of a hike to come all the way from Fulsi, isn’t it?” ooc; ermergerd A TREVOR POST??? WHAT IS THISSSSS HAS GRACE FINALLY EMBRACED MORE OF HER CHARS? ITHINKSO.

[Ray "East" Kraus]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 550px; height:640px; background-image:url(http://i39.tinypic.com/9qlaw9.png)] Oh, yep. His nose was bleeding, something that he checked on as sure as he had scrambled away from the... the Carna. Well, he had to get an A for effort, trying to muster up a bit of prejudice for the man he'd just tumbled into, only to find that little bit of "hatred" lacking. He tried to wipe the blood off his face, but gave up on it once his nose continued to bleed. He glanced in the direction of the voice, scowling despite himself. "Shut up, you idiot. You're going to get us killed by yelling." His voice was hushed but irritated. Really. They were in enemy territory and he couldn't keep his voice down? He heard the muffled sounds of movement, but didn't bother doing the same. He sat on the ground, trying to take inventory of his injuries, but quickly gave up. He had this mental image of himself, when he clambered out of this hole, of being beaten black and blue. And... and... What about this Carna? He kept forgetting that the kid could be a threat, and he jerked unsteadily to his feet, feeling for the wall of the tunnel. The fact that he couldn't see his so-called "enemy" made East... well, uncomfortable. He normally based a lot off of appearances, and he knew nothing about him at the moment other than his body was not exactly a good cushion. "That sucks." East's tone was less than kind--he was a little sidetracked with the thought of getting out, frankly, not the Carna's bag. But... since he was pretty hopeless with directions, maybe the stranger would help him? That would require being civil, though. East ignored the first part of his question--it didn't matter who he was, did it? "Bit of a hike for you, too," East replied, dryly. "And I doubt it was for the exercise." Pack. Okay. The Carna had lost his pack. That was fixable. East craned his neck in that direction they had fallen from, trying to get a feel for the ground. He edged along the wall, until he felt the steep rise, and began to conclude that it might have been less of an incline and more of a drop off. "Christ. How... the hell.. do these things get around in here?" He'd fallen forward on hands and knees, the dirt sliding out from under him as he tried to ascend it. He gave up after a few minutes of trying to scramble up, to Hell with grace. "Thanks for breaking my fall, Carna boy, 'cause I think if you hadn't I'd have a broken neck right now." His tone was sarcastic, and by now him talking was more an effort to settle his nerves than to be polite. "I can probably get your bag though." He figured he'd be better at making his way up the incline-slash-drop-off-slash-obstacle from hell with four legs rather than two.

[Trevor Williams]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:502px;height:536px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/9ler01.png)] He pressed back warily against one of the rock walls, palms pricked by the rough gravel strewn across the ground. The boy at least had the sense to not trust a rival ring member as far as he could throw him – which wasn’t very far to say the least considering the relatively cramped space of what he supposed to be some sort of tunnel or cavern. The other man was gruff, but there was a lack of conviction to his voice that made Trevor relax, if only a little. If he’d wanted to kill him, he would’ve attacked him already; he was fairly certain of that. Still, there were a lot of crazies in this dome, and not all of them belonged to his ring. So, he tried to make due. “Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, the words thankfully no longer echoing now that he’d lowered the volume several dozen notches. “Didn’t mean to yell, you just…you startled me, that’s all. I didn’t expect to be crushed by some invisible force.” Despite the earlier events, he made a stab at humor. It helped sometimes – it was both a coping method for himself and a way of lessening the tension that hung thick in the air. With a low huff of breath, he slid up the wall to stand, then pushed away from it, staggering slightly considering the fall had given him a nice beating, and tilted his head up to the edge again. Of course, he couldn’t see worth shit, but he could smell the contents of the pack, and thus knew what direction it was lying in – there was a small package of food stowed inside it, containing an equal portion of meat and fruit. It made his stomach growl, just a little. He shifted his head to stare back in the man’s direction, then scoffed. “Yeah, it does, for good reason. ...sure was. Took a few days – I came for the sight-seeing,” he muttered dryly. “Stayed for the glorious bonus of mutts-trying-to-tear-me-to-shreds. Sure got plenty of exercise from it though. They hassled you too, I take it?” Trev shrugged, prowling over to the drop-off they’d tumbled over as well, and dragged a hand across the wall of what felt like dirt. When he spoke, it was mostly to himself, under his breath. “Maybe they don’t usually come this way? Seems…almost like a pit? Then again, they’re wild dogs – probably good at climbing over rocks and shit...” He stepped back, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully, his only reply being a snort at the man’s other comment. Seemed he had another sass-pants on his hands. This place was chalk-full of them. The boy wasn’t quite able to estimate just how tall the drop-off was, though it had felt like they’d fallen a good few feet at least. Enough to find it difficult to claw their way back up, but not too much that they didn’t break upon landing. At least, not completely. That fall had hurt, and the man had made the ‘hurt’ rather worse. Trev could feel the bruises forming already. But they had to get the pack if they didn’t want to be blindly crawling through what he could only imagine was an endless maze of tunnels and dead-ends. “You’ll be wanting to try at least, believe me – there’s a flashlight in that pack, and matches. Y’know, light. So we can see what we’re actually doing while trying to make our grand escape.” The scout paused, head tilting. “If you can’t jump to get it, maybe I can give you a boost up and you can try and grab it instead? Or vice versa.” He narrowed his eyes playfully through the dark, “You seemed a touch..uh…bigger, than me. You might be able to hoist me up easier. Just, y’know, form a step with your hands and such.” Watch, it’d be just his luck if, once they had the light, the guy turned out to be model-worthy or something and then Trev would have to try not to gawk and oh, that would be awkward. That always seemed to be the way of things, and usually it happened at the most inconvenient of times. It really wasn’t quite fair at all. Stupid men with their stupid faces and other stupid goodly assets that ruined his stupid life. ooc; ....trevor you are a derp. i'msosorryeast

[Ray "East" Kraus]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 550px; height:640px; background-image:url(http://i39.tinypic.com/9qlaw9.png)] East always thought it was funny how impossible circumstances made people who would normally hate each other begrudgingly civil. In a split second, he had decided to stop being a jackass and give the kid a break. "Don't sweat it. But... invisible force, huh? Wait 'till you see me in the light. I'll blind you." Cocky? Sure. Smooth? Less so, considering his voice was made thick from the blood that was still dripping out of his nose. He wiped at it with the back of his hand again. It was quiet as the two of them got their bearings. East was... well, he had never been a huge fan of the dark. Much less the dark that could have drooling, frothing, hairy mutts lurking around each and every corner. He shook his head and rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to smooth out some kinks. "Yeah. Everything's real gorgeous until you get a glimpse of a puppy-dog's pearly whites. Wasn't there a whole lot of shit on how once you lost one sense, your others became heightened? East felt pretty blind and pretty scentless. He wasn't deaf, but he sure wasn't hearing like a bat. He could hear the sound of the Carna moving, though, and it made East edge himself back into the crook of the wall. "Maybe they don't? We haven't gotten attacked." He mentally added a yet. but didn't bother to say it. Originally, East had just been hoping a couple of things. Firstly, that this Carna wouldn't tear his face off. Secondly, that this Carna might help him find a way out. He hadn't been thinking about flashlights or matches or anything like that, but at the mention of them his brows hiked up and he thought, No one ever said East Kraus isn't lucky. "Yeah, sure thing." He cautiously made his way towards the kid, or at least where his voice was coming from. East figured that it would work better like this, anyhow, considering he wasn't all that willing to accidentally hit his head on the roof of the tunnel, if it proved to be shorter than they thought. "Don't punch me if I grab you... uh, please." As he said it, he fumbled for the Carna, feeling for his arm and then his wrist. East's other hand was searching the wall, and he released Trevor so that he could kneel beside it. More fumbling ensued, trying to guide the other man into the cup of his hands. "If you avoided kicking me in the face or falling, that would be cool." But you know, beggars couldn't be choosers, right? East was about as low as you could get, or it sure felt like it. Trapped in a hole... trying to get this stranger's bag... my nose is trickling blood... oh, did I mention the stranger? And dogs. There could be dogs-- Jesus. Suck it up, buttercup. East figured there was no point on brooding. "You need more help? Like, finding my hands?" Maybe it was an unnecessary question, maybe not. East, without waiting for reply, yanked the Carna closer by the fabric of his jeans. "Um... I can count to three?" His leg was falling asleep. "One..." The Carna's foot finally found a hold. "... two..." Wow, he was getting dirt all over his hands. "Three." East pushed him up. Right about then, he thought about how the Carna could just climb out of the pit himself, if he got a good handhold, and leave East sitting pretty in the dark if he wanted.

[Trevor Williams]

The guy was confident, Trev could give him that much; it helped a great deal in putting his mind at ease, as did the fact that said guy didn’t seem all too willing to rip him apart limb from limb. Yes, that was very helpful. He liked his limbs. As it were, it also seemed quite possible that they’d both make it out of there with everything more or less intact – unless, of course, he was blinded by the other man’s sheer good looks, as it had been implied.

The scout grinned, fingers digging into the offending wall. If it hadn’t been such a shit day, he might even have been glad to be stuck down in some hole with an apparently hot stranger whilst immersed in complete darkness. It was practically a story ripped from the pages of one of those…what did they call them? Right. Harlequin novels. Those trashy ones, with the ripped looking men on the front covers. And then his brain, his traitorous brain, had to go and remind him that it was just as likely for said stranger to stick a knife through his back and steal his pack once they got up to the top, and his mood soured almost immediately. Stupid brain, being all logical and shit. It just went to show how neglected he’d been lately, though – and also likely proved the fact that he was as easy as other people said he was; maybe Tain would take pity and do him a kindness sometime, if Py was out. Unlikely, but possible. What was he doing again?

Oh, right. Trying to get free.

Trev glanced up towards the small speck of light that promised a way out, then tossed a dry look at the other man, who couldn’t see it but might’ve felt it as laughter threatened to rise in Trev’s throat, and was swallowed down again. “Well, just don’t grab me in any places that might earn you a deserved punch, yeah?” He felt the other’s light touch as his wrist was grasped, and he held still patiently so that he was able to find a spot to kneel down. A few short moments later, and Trev was given a boost up, his hands scrabbling for something or somewhere to grab onto. He wasn’t quite at the ledge, but he thankfully managed to find a spot where the face of the wall jutted just enough for him to hold on, and he used it to pull himself up the rest of the way, shoes seeking a foothold and kicking spatters of dirt down in the process. The apology that followed sounded rather garbled as his fingers sought and finally found the ledge, allowing him to haul himself up the rest of the way. To say he was relieved when he landed on the other side was an understatement, and for a moment he took a break to rest, panting a little from the exertion. He might’ve even kissed the ground if the thought of all that dirt hadn’t been so unappealing.

Eventually, he peered back down towards the hole. It was dark, near pitch black, though he thought he could just make out the shape of the man below. Still, it was a long way down. He was going to need something better than his arm if he hoped to pull him up. Of course…he could’ve always left him there and gone on his merry way. But Trev knew by experience that karma was a bitch – or rather, he was its bitch – and that if he did that he’d probably be sooner eaten by some mangy Cujo mutt. So, with a long-suffering sigh, he pulled his bag over closer to him and began to rifle through it. Everything was still there, thankfully; the flashlight with its fading batteries, the matches, the snacks…waterbottle. And a spare length of nylon rope. What were the odds? When there was rope to be spared, though, he had always brought some along, just in case something like this ever happened while he was out scouting with a group. It was a safety precaution. So was the short knife tucked into the boot under his pantleg. Trev peeked back down again, and called down to the man, “Found some rope, gonna try and tie it to something so you can climb out, alright?” He didn’t stick around to wait for an answer, lest his idea be called anything less than sheer dumb brilliance. Or, preparedness, he supposed. Being prepared didn’t make him any more brilliant than the next prepared person, though it sure made him feel brilliant compared to the people who neglected preparedness. Those were the kind of people who usually ended up on the wrong side of something’s jaws. Anddd there his brain went, trailing off on a tangent again. It seemed to do that a lot.

There was a sharp crag of rock rising up out of the ground that seemed solid enough to support weight, and with some quick handiwork and some masterful knots – Maddox was well-practiced and had taught him well – it was tied to said rock. And then he simply dropped the length of rope down over the side of the ledge, easy-peasy and all that. “Alright, then, c’mon, climb up. Use those muscular arms o’ yours and haul that sweet ass up here.” He called down, his words full of taunting laughter. “Don’t make me trash talk you into hurrying!”

ooc; first off, if i don't post like this for months, beat me. secondly, if you don't want to continue this because of my extreme lateness, i understand - however, i do apologize profusely D: