IF YOU BECOME A SOLDIER [P]

[grey]

He was not scheduled to guard the cesspool, but he had restless feet, and he had begun to walk in that direction without permission. He had begun to feel more at ease there than among the Fallen, which was something that bothered him. His loyalty had never wavered in the past, but now he found more companionship in the form of Fallen's enemy than among his Ring mates.

As it was, Grey was not thinking much of it at that particular second. He was just walking, with thoughts of a few nights ago fresh in his mind. Nycole Sivis was alive. She was well.

And she hated him.

It was in the way she had looked at him, in those briefs seconds, with a complete bitterness. There had never been closure between them, but he feared what would happen if he demanded reconciliation, if he apologized, if he made it right. And Grey also knew. Nothing would happen, or something would, and she would hurt him, or he would only hurt her more.

The sky was darkening. He saw the first pinpricks of stars and tried not to dwell on things of the past, but it was impossible.

He remembered her leaning close to his ear, once, as they lay side-by-side on some mission out in the German countryside. Her lips had touched the lobe of his ear, as she sung, her tone playful, "I've lost my rifle and bayonet/I've lost my pull-through too/I've lost the socks that you sent me/That lasted the whole winter through." She'd prodded his ribs, forced a smile out of him. He'd been angry, and he couldn't remember why anymore.

Grey's foot scuffed the sand as he continued, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. If he had been in a better mood, he would have been loping as a wolf. Instead, his mind was full of old songs, whispered mischief on the lips of a girl who no longer loved him, but had used those same lips previously to scold him, to break him. "I've lost the razor that shaved me--" To which Grey had protested. You don't shave, he had said, and she'd chuffed him out of exasperation. "--I've lost my four-by-two/I've lost my hold--all and now I've got damn all/since I lost you."

She told him the song was ancient, back from the days of World War II, before UNIT, before them. He had found no comfort in that, but he had humored her. Now he wished he had been more receptive, more... attentive. Grey thought of all those lost moments, when he had not heeded her, when he turned away or feigned disinterest or was too exhausted to do more than smile.

Damn it! He was cursing himself, his mistakes, but then his eyes rose from his feet to the cesspool in the distance, only to see that there were four men located there. Grey squinted, and after a few seconds he recognize James and... three Fallen. What the Hell? He picked up his pace from a walk to a lope, and came within hearing distance.

He recognized the Fallen as Brock, Trig, and Hale. Grey's expression was cool. James was suspended between two of them, and the third was threatening him. It was clear from his posture, and the knife in his hand. Grey's mind went blank for a few seconds. He had been trained to react logically situations, and it was a habit he fell into as he approached.

Logically? He was allied with Fallen. He should see what they were doing. Illogically? James was someone that he respected, and it was very clear that Trig was intending to do something with that knife he held. So when Grey spoke, his voice was dangerous. "I don't think any of you have permission to be doing this."

He could not imagine the new Alpha allowing something like this to occur. McKellar was not soft, exactly, but he avoided violence like the plague. Grey's expression remained impassive, but he continued to step closer. Hale met his eyes. "We don't need permission--"

"Trig, please put down the knife." His tone was polite, if nothing else, even when his pale eyes leveled out, and his intent seemed deadly.

He needed this. Needed something to take his mind off of her, of her looking him dead in the eye. ""And that's all there is to say about this, isn't it?" Grey struggled to keep his composure. This was no place to vent his frustration, as much as he wanted to say something to set the trio of Fallen off.

ooc: i figured you could specify what they've done to James and so on <3 SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE, BTW.

[James Colt]

It'd been four days since he'd been tossed into the hole, four days of little water and even less food, under the desert sun. On one hand, he sort of liked the fact that he could still see the sky, it made the cell a little less unbearable, gave him something to look at other than muddy walls. On the other hand, it was damn hot in the pits, some shade would have been nice. Still, it wasn't the worst place he'd been locked up in, at least he wasn't crammed in with twenty other shifters, things could always be worse. Still, they were pretty bad. His injuries were only just starting to heal, he suspected some of the bones in his right hand were broken, and he knew at least one, probably two or three ribs on his right side were cracked or broken; He didn't think he'd be shifting any time soon unless he could get to a healer who actually wanted him to be able to move again. The open cuts had started to heal though, and some of the bruises were fading, so he didn't look as bad as he had.

Apparently one of the Fallen on guard duty had decided he needed to fix that. James wasn't sure what he'd done to annoy the guy enough to make him want to slap him around. Maybe it was just because he was a Carna, maybe it was because he grinned at him cheekily, maybe it was because he'd suggested that his mother was promiscuous, he supposed he'd never know. Either way, the guard had called over two more Fallen, dragged him out of his nice little hell hole and proceeded to beat the tar out of him.

Today wasn't one of James' better days. Still, even if he was getting his face pounded in, at least he could annoy the guards some more while he was at it.

Held between two of the guards while the third worked him over he cracked a grin through split lips, "Come on Matilda, do you mind if I call you Matilda? You haven't told me your name so..."

[/color] he grunted as the newly dubbed Matilda slammed a fist into his gut, "You've got to punch with your whole body, don't just flail at me with your fists like your fluffing a pillow! Didn't anyone ever teach you how to beat up a defenseless prisoner properly?"

The next blow hit him across the side of the face and he saw stars for a few moments, shaking his head to clear it a little, "That one was a bit better, but I'm just not feeling it. Where's the passion? Where's the grace? It's like your kneading bread here! I'm beginning to feel a little insulted..."[/color] 'Matilda' punched him on the nose and it started bleeding freely, he snorted and grinned through the blood, "I mean you're really the best they sent to work me over? I've been beaten up better by twelve year olds! I'm not even kidding, that's a true story right there, you hit worse than a twelve year old. What's next? Are you going to pull my hair and ask me for my lunch money? Is this because I called you a butt-face? You know, that's a better name for you than Matilda. How do you like it Butt-face?"

Butt-face jammed his knee in a rather sensitive area, and James sagged in the arms of the other two Fallen, instinctively trying to curl up to ease the pain, "Hey, not cool,"[/color] he groaned, "That's a low blow there, you don't kick a guy there! I mean, if you're not going to follow the rules here..."[/color] without warning he grabbed the arms holding him up, steadying himself as he swung his legs out from under him and kicked Butt-face right in the jewels, "Than neither am I."[/color]

Those were the last words he managed to get out for a while, as the guys holding him up tossed him to the ground and started kicking at him. All he could do was curl into a ball and try and protect his already battered ribs and groin. He supposed baiting the Fallen wasn't smart, he was a prisoner, they could hurt him all they liked, he didn't need to give them an excuse to make it worse. Still, he just couldn't keep his mouth shut at the best of times, and he wasn't about to censor himself just so he could 'play nice' with the people holding him captive. At least talking back achieved something: it showed them that he wasn't beaten yet.

He was dragged back up to his feet again, the Fallen forced to support his weight as he was unable to stand anymore. Butt-face drew a knife from a sheath on his belt, toying with it in a way that was clearly supposed to be menacing, "Maybe you won't be laughing so much if I cut off one your fingers, Carna?" he walked towards him, tracing the knife lightly over his good hand, before slicing a little cut and moving the knife up to his face. James went still, feeling the metal resting on his left cheekbone, "Maybe I'll take one of them pretty blue eyes instead, eh?"

James' whole body tensed, but it was the only sign of fear he allowed himself, instead locking eyes calmly with his tormentor and staring him down, unwilling to give an inch. If Butt-face was hoping to see him beg, he was going to be disappointed.

"I don't think any of you have permission to be doing this." A voice called, it was Grey. James had been so focused on the knife he hadn't heard anyone approaching, and apparently, neither had Butt-face, the guy jumped a little and took a few steps back, taking the knife with him. James tried not to sag in relief now that the knife was away from his face, and instead turned to watch the stand off between Grey and Butt-face. Grey looked angry at the Fallen, which was a little confusing, chatting with a prisoner was one thing, protecting him against you're own people though... One of the guards holding him took offense to Grey's interruption "We don't need permission-"

"Trig, please put down the knife." Grey's voice was calm, dangerously so, and James tensed a little just hearing it. So did the other Fallen. Wanting to keep the other guys distracted so they wouldn't go back to sticking a knife under his eye, he grinned a little, "Hey Grey, fancy meeting you here. I was just having a little chat with Butt-face here. He was showing me how nice his knife was, even offered to show my how sharp it was by cutting off a body part or two. Fun times."[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

ooc: Sorry it took so long to reply, I didn't see the PM. Wow this post got long, I think that's the longest one I've done on this site.

[grey]

It was mere instinct to analyze the situation as apathetically as possible. Grey was angry, sure, but he shoved his rage back to assess what was really happening. These Fallen were breaking rules--or, if not rules, than they were doing something close by not following direct orders to torture the prisoner. That probably deserved punishment, right? Or at least reprimand. Grey rolled back onto the balls of his feet, shrugged his shoulders and stretched out his spine. His arms swung loosely at his sides as he neared the group.

Grey's pale (and at the moment, completely glacial) eyes flicked to James. He sneered. "Shut up, Carna, or I'll put that knife through something a little more personal than your eyes." His eyes were lethargic as they flicked from James' face to his crotch, the threat clear. "Trig wouldn'ta done anything to you for kicking him, really, but I will." He coughed into his shoulder and walked closer, seemingly to greet the other Fallen.

He extended a hand to Trig, who shook it with a thin-lipped smile. "You coming to join us, NLI?" It was a long-running joke among the Hunters, who had pestered him repetitively for his surname. Grey had only said "NLI", for "No Middle Initial". Grey was not in a mood to joke, and merely chuffed. "Nah, Trig. This time I'm coming to tell you all to put the Carna back in the hole. McKellar isn't going to be too happy if the kid ends up beaten black and blue, y'know?"

Trig had an awkward look on his face, and he kind of rolled his shoulders. Grey was watching him intently, seeing him as more of a threat than the other two, who were mostly just followers of Trig. "He wouldn't really do anything if he accidentally ended up a little maimed--"

"Trig." Grey's voice had gone from friendly to dangerous. It was a thin line that he was walking. If he seemed too eager to help James, it would end badly for himself. If he was not assertive enough, though, Trig would continue to do whatever the Hell he wanted, and Grey would have to go on ahead and beat the shit out of him. Which would not end well, for either of them.

Plus, I'm not sure how good a fight would go right now. Nycole was fresh in his mind, and his body was still sore and neglected from his interactions with James. "Jesus, Trig. Don't keep arguing. I'll finish off the rest of this watch if you want, just go talk to McKellar about the kid."

He had a feeling that James was about to speak again. He turned on the Carna with a snarl, and backhanded him soundly. There was a ferocity to his expression that did not, exactly, match his eyes when he met James'. "Go." Grey said, strangely calm for his previous action, shoving Brock and Hale away. They protested some, but it was obvious Grey was growing impatient with their disobedience. He seized James by the wrists and held him in a way that seemed harsh, but to James it would be obvious that he was not really trying to hurt him--for one, he did not jerk his injured shoulder abruptly, or at all. "I'll get him back in the hole. See what McKellar says. Maybe we can interview him. With permission"

Trig was nodding more eagerly now, in agreement. They had known Grey as a rule Nazi back from when they were tenderfoots together. Brock was still protesting, rubbing at his arm where Grey had shoved him. Hale looked stoned or tired, frankly, and Grey resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Were these really the toughest bunch of Fallen, or what? "Okay, NLI, we'll see you in a little while." The trio shapeshifted, Trig into a wild hog, Brock into a serval, and Hale into a bloodhound.

Grey's expression changed abruptly from a closed, almost sarcastic one to a quiet, thoughtful one. He loosened his grip on James' wrists once the trio were out of view, and then he rethought it. He doubted that the Bengal shifter would be running--or if so, Grey did not doubt his ability to catch him in his current state. He released his hands and walked a semi-circle to the front of him again.

"Jesus, you're a mess." Grey's head cocked, his eyes narrowed. After a moment's assessment, he went over to the water supplies of the previous guard duty, and retrieved the jug and proceeded to wet the handkerchief he kept in case of a sand storm. Gauging James' reaction, he began to dab the blood his face. Grey had cracked his lip when he had slapped him, and while there was no sign of apology in his gaze, he did not seem exactly excited about having injured him again.

ooc: THE HELL YOU DOIN GREY D8 idk how this just happened. butanywayssss. so sorry for the wait and everything, and tell me if you want anything changed!

[James Colt]

James winced at the threat, he was reasonably sure that it was for the other Fallen's benefit, but it was hard to get a read on Grey at the moment. On one hand the guy had had plenty of opportunities to hurt him before, and hadn't done anything more than his duty by stopping him from escaping; On the other hand, his eyes were ice cold, and it was just a little disconcerting.

Still, he seemed to be talking the other Fallen out of beating him black and blue, at least until they had orders to do so, which was something. He didn't know what the new Fallen Alpha was like, maybe he'd order them to come back and try to get some information out of him. If they did, they'd be wasting their time, he was just a hunter. He didn't know anything important, and if he did, he sure as hell wouldn't tell them just because they smacked him around a little. The knife play was new, he didn't fancy losing anything important, but he'd lose a lot more if he betrayed the Carna.

The other Fallen seemed just about ready to leave, James knew he should keep his mouth shut, taunting them would only serve to convince them to hurt him a little more before they left, but he couldn't help himself. He opened his mouth to tell Trig, formerly known as Butt-face, to work on his right hook while he was gone. Before he could make a sound though he felt his head snap back and blinked in surprise, unable to keep a small ammount of shock off his face as Grey snarled at him. He looked furious, but his eyes were still calm, it threw James off, confused him, or that could just be the blows to the head talking.

Before he could puzzle it out, the two guys holding him were shoved away, and he struggled to regain his footing. Loathe as he was to admit it he could barely stand anymore, and they'd been pretty much holding him up. Grey was holding him by the wrists, it looked painful, and his right hand hurt a little more from the pressure, but it clearly wasn't intended to hurt him. The other Fallen seemed satisfied though, and they shifted and left.

Grey's demeanor changed once they were gone, and he looked thoughtful. James was still confused, Grey seemed to shift between hostile and almost friendly at the drop of a hat, and while he was usually pretty good at figuring out people's intentions, he was more than a little off his game at the moment. Still, he didn't really have much of a choice here. He could either try to trust Grey, who at least treated him fairly and didn't hurt him unless he needed to, or he could take his chances with the rest of the Fallen. Strangely, out of a ring supposedly full of pacifists, he thought his chances would be a lot better with the one considered too violent for the Fallen.

Grey loosened his hold on his wrists, and then, seemingly realising he was in no condition to escape, he let them go altogether. "Jesus, you're a mess." Grey said, and James chuckled a little, wincing as it pulled at his ribs, "Eh, I've been worse... I think. I'm not really sure I can remember at the moment."

[/color]

James tensed a little as Grey approached him with the wet handkerchief, it wasn't that he thought the other guy was just going to start pounding on him, but he was a little unsure at the moment. Still, he allowed Grey to dab the blood off his face, it wasn't an apology, but it didn't seem like Grey had been to thrilled to hurt him. He guessed he needed to keep up appearences, no sense looking to friendly with a prisoner, people might talk.

"So..."[/color] he began a little awkwardly, shifting a bit on his feet to keep himself upright, "Think they'll be back? Not that I'm not grateful for the reprieve, I was getting a little bored. There's only so many ways you can insult a guy while he's beating the crap out of you, I was running out of material."[/color] he shrugged his good shoulder, aiming for nonchalant but not quite getting there. The truth was he wasn't sure how much more he would have been able to take. He hadn't been about to break down and beg them to stop, but passing out had begun to look like a good idea.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[grey]

He could not explain why he had taken it upon himself to look after this prisoner, and he was frankly a little disgusted at his own behavior. Was this traitorous yet? And if so, what Ring did he have to betray? Fallen really didn't want him, did they? Grey's thoughts took a turn for the worst in those few seconds, as his contemplative eyes took inventory of James' injuries. The kid was tough,but Grey was guessing that much longer in the pit, suffering from a combination of dehydration, the beginnings of infection, and possibly the onset of starvation... Well, everyone breaks a little under that.

Carna thought that knives and broken bones were all they needed to get what they wanted, to get information. But Grey knew that long hours of little conversation and a hot, hot sun had their way of breaking a person.

And he realized that he shouldn't care whether or not James was breaking, right? It's just disappointing to see someone resilient eventually... well, succumb, I guess. He finished cleaning James' face, whipping the handkerchief to his side to dispel some of the excess water. He then twisted it, and tied the cloth to his belt loop. "You're probably getting dehydrated. Let me see the hand that isn't screwed up." Without waiting, Grey seized it himself, and pinched the skin at James' knuckles. He watched it stay stuck together for a second, and he shook his head. "Yeah. You're getting dehydrated."

Grey returned to the jug of water and brought it to James, looking vaguely impatient. He was, honestly. With the whole situation and with himself. He shouldn't have been helping the Carna, but he couldn't seem to shrug off the sense of comradeship he felt towards him. James was a fellow fighter. And frankly, Grey missed the familiarity of those types of people, like those in the Imperium--

He cut off his thoughts. "I doubt it. McKellar isn't exactly the kind to condone torture, but he surprises me sometimes. He does what he thinks is necessary. If they do come back, it will take them a while." He cocked his head, and examined James with a skeptical eye. After a second, he trailed away, to look over at the other prisoners, who were curled in the bottom of the pit, trying to find some semblance of shade. The girl stared at him disdainfully.

Grey made his movements somewhat lethargic, almost absentminded. He seemed distracted, and he was. With thoughts of Cole and his past, and how he was not happy trying to be this man he wasn't, fitting in a peaceful Ring. He cracked his knuckles, his back still to James.

Maybe he was offering him a boon. Grey listened quietly for the sound of footsteps.

[James Colt]

James grabbed the jug with his good hand with a grateful nod and took a sip. He wanted to just chug the whole thing, but he'd been dehydrated enough times to know that if he did that he'd just vomit it back up. Instead he forced himself to take small, slow sips.

Grey had walked away from him, and was looking at the other prisoners in the pit, his back turned. James wondered about that, was he giving him an opportunity to escape, or just a few moments out of the pit? He seemed to stress the fact that no one else would come by the hole for some time, maybe he was asking him to escape. If he was, should he take it? Could he take it?

He liked to think he had a strong enough will to do anything, but he wasn't sure if he could make it across the desert in his current state. If he shifted with his broken bones he would only do more damage, and he knew he wouldn't be able to take weight on his front right paw.

That left attempting to walk across the desert in his human form, with broken ribs, a healing cut on his thigh, several blows to the head, probable concussion... Yeah, much as he would dearly love to escape he didn't think he'd get very far before either being recaptured or passing out from exhaustion, or dehydration, or the probable concussion, whatever got him first really. He didn't particularly feel like being food for vultures and crows. He sighed, taking another couple of sips of the water and walking over to stand a few meters away from Grey, a little behind and too the side, while looking down into the pit that had become his cell.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna push you into the pit,"

[/color] he said with a tired smirk, "Much as I'd like to get back to my nice dank sewer, I'm in no condition to go walking across the desert alone. If I could shift I'd take my chances, but shifting with broken ribs is asking for a punctured lung, and drowning in my own blood is not my preferred way to go."[/color] His mouth thinned grimly, he remembered a dog shifter who'd seemed fine after a fight until he shifted for warmth. The guards hadn't bothered to treat him, and he'd died choking.

"Thanks for stopping them by the way. I wasn't sure how far they'd go, and while I suppose I don't really need all my fingers and toes, having them cut off isn't exactly something I want to experience. It seems a little... extreme for Fallen."[/color] he shrugged his good shoulder again, wondering if all prisoners got roughed up a bit, or if that was reserved for Carna. Hell, maybe it was just his sparkling personality.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[grey]

He had given him the chance. A few seconds in which he could have run, if he wanted. But James hadn't taken the opportunity. Grey couldn't decide if he was relieved or disappointed, He listened quietly as James made his way towards him.

Don't worry, I'm not going to push you into the pit. Grey shrugged indifferently. Eyeing the Carna sidelong, he decided it was a feat in itself that James was walking, much less pushing people over barbed wire and into a pit. Grey made a noncommittal noise in reply, still in thought.

Alone. If Grey helped him, he would be fine. After all, Grey knew all the places to hide, and when the patrols were scheduled. If they played their cards right, they could make it out--

We. It was the first time he had thought "we", and Grey dug his nails into his knuckles, behind his back. His father used to flick him with a ruler across the skin there, when he'd done something wrong, and the sharp bite of pain was enough to remind him of his place. Fallen. Hunter. Loyal. I do not help prisoners escape! He turned on James with narrowed eyes and a slight sneer. "Does it?" Grey laughed, then. "Every Ring has their extremes, and if you're forgetting, Carna did kill our leader. I think people also forget that Fallen has lasted this long in the Menagerie, and even if they seem softer, they wouldn't have lived so long if they were just a bunch of weak-willed pacifists." He offered a quirked brow. If he remembered right, the Fallen Beta had led an attack on the waterfront, burning it.

Was that extreme, too?

"Look, kid. I like you, and you're not going to get another chance like this." This came abruptly. Honestly, Grey had been thinking it over since he'd turned his back on the Carna. "You either leave now, or you'll spend the rest of your life in this hole." Even the girl in the cesspool looked surprised, when she met Grey's eyes. He tore his gaze away from her to assess James, and then to look at the sun and gauge the time.

It was well past noon. "It's probably around five o'clock, meaning that there should have just been a shift change. From here, it is a couple of miles to the foothills on the Fallen-Carna border, and there won't be a patrol passing by there for at least an hour. The foothills will also offer some cover, if we need to hide you. I'm guessing it will take Trig a while before he comes back. McKellar is pretty busy."

Had this been his plan all along? Grey shrugged his shoulders to loosen them, unsure if he was just rolling with the punches, hypothetically speaking. He turned on James with a pair of narrowed, assessing eyes. He didn't know if the Carna was going to take him up on the offer. He never openly said that he would help James, but he did include a "we" here or there.

[James Colt]

Grey's words confirmed it, he was giving him the chance to escape. They also confirmed what he had been beginning to suspect; He wasn't getting out of that pit alive, not unless he took matters into his own hands. He doubted he'd get very far, and part of him wanted to wait until he'd healed up a little more, but at the rate he was going he wasn't going to get the chance to heal. Standing on his own power was difficult enough already, a couple more beatings and it would be impossible. Better to take the chance while he could.
It almost seemed like Grey was offering to help him, why would he do that? James was just a Carna who'd been looking for a fight and was dumb enough to get himself caught, why would Grey risk anything to help him? Sure, they almost got along, and he was better conversation than he'd had in a long time, but they were still enemies, weren't they? Enemies didn't help each other escape though.

"They'll know you helped me,"

[/color] he said, his voice low and serious, "You told me yourself that you're skating on thin ice here, at best, they'll throw you out. You might end up taking my place in the pit."[/color]

He thought for a moment, staring into the hole, "Come with me,"[/color] he offered, almost pleading, "We could go our separate ways at the border if that's what you want. You know they'll blame you if I escape, even if you say I somehow overpowered you."[/color]

Grey was right, it was now or never. Running through the desert would be easier as the sun went down, and if they could avoid the patrols they could get to the border without seeing a soul. He admitted to himself that part of the reason he wanted Grey to come with him was because he wasn't sure he could make it on his own, but he also didn't want the other shifter to suffer because he helped him.

Ignoring the way his legs shook underneath him he walked around a little, trying to summon enough strength too make the journey. If he'd been anywhere near healthy he wouldn't be worried, he could take the distance at a lope and be back in a matter of hours, but he knew he was in bad shape. He would have to keep going though, alone if he had too, it was this or die in a hole.
[/blockquote]
[/blockquote]

[grey]

They'll know you helped me. The more sarcastic, easily side of Grey wanted to snap, No shit, Sherlock. He didn't. He remained where he was, nearly drawing blood to the skin of his knuckles. Why did the Carna care? Grey was offering him a way out--and he doesn't trust me. That would make sense. James probably thought that Grey was screwing with him, maybe taunting him with how close freedom could be.

But really, he wasn't that messed up. If he was offering it, he was being serious. Come with me. His tone surprised Grey. He turned his eyes on him abruptly, questioning and uncertain all at once. He was not accustomed with that. With people wanting to go with him. He hadn't been for the last few years. "Maybe. We'll see where it goes." That was all he could manage, as he began to delve into all sorts of thoughts and self-doubts.

Because really, this was... horrible. He was betraying the trust of his Ring--

But I'm hurting no one doing it, and I don't think anyone will miss me. Grey let James stretch his legs, trying not to think too much on Cole, but he couldn't help it. He remembered the way she had looked at him a few nights ago, as she said, "I can't stay here if you're here too, S... Stark."

"Let's go, Carna." It wasn't going to get any easier the longer they waited. He eyed James for a moment before he started off at a slow walk, side-by-side. If James stumbled, Grey was ready to make sure he didn't hit his face. He was quiet for a while.

"I've overstayed my welcome in Fallen," he admitted, finally, with a sort of awkwardness in the sentence. He didn't normally declare his thoughts or intentions. "I joined it a while ago because I thought that it was what one of my old friends would have wanted me to do. But I saw her a few days ago and I'm the person that's keeping her a Rogue." Grey did not say that it was, in fact, his wife that he had seen. He did not say that he had taken his wedding band from his ring finger, and instead put it on the opposite hand.

"So I figured why not help out a good guy? You wouldn't have been in this mess if it wasn't for me." Or for trespassing, y'know. But I'll give him a break.

[James Colt]

"Let's go Carna." James' lips curved in a small, genuine smile; He hadn't wanted to leave Grey behind. Even if he hadn't been worried about making it back to the border on his own he probably would have offered. He knew it couldn't be easy walking away from your ring, he didn't think he'd ever be able to walk away from the Carna, not willingly anyway. His ring was the closest thing he'd had to a home since he was thirteen years old. He didn't think less of Grey for the decision though; Some might see it as betrayal, he just saw it as making a choice.

Steadying himself, he started walking alongside Grey slowly, stubbornly ignoring the way his left leg and ribs jolted with every step. He wasn't going to be winning any races, but he was pretty sure he could keep up this pace, for a while at least. Better to take it slow now and save what energy he could for if they had to run later.

He listened to Grey's reasons for joining the Fallen, nodding in understanding and a little sympathy. He'd seen a few of the kids he took care of since joining the Carna, and they hadn't wanted anything to do with him anymore. Grey's decision to 'help a good guy' was a little surprising, and he shook his head a little ruefully. "I wouldn't exactly call myself a 'good guy' Grey, most of the time I'm a complete ass. I know some of the kids I used to run with joined Fallen, they were sick of violence, wanted to try being civilized again. I couldn't even consider it, Carna was the only real choice for me. I've lived by violence too long to change, even if I wanted too."

[/color]

He caught his breath, trying to find a sweet spot between keeping himself moving enough to stay alert and not moving too much to exhaust himself. Talking was helping though, it gave him something to focus on other than his injuries. "Humans think shifters are no better than animals, but they're wrong, for the most part. Most shifters still know how to be people, I'm not sure if I can anymore though."[/color]

He shrugged his good shoulder, lifting the corner of his mouth in a half hearted smirk, "Still, if being more animal than man is what keeps me alive in this demented zoo I won't complain."[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[grey]

Grey sometimes struggled with what he meant, and now was one of those times. It obviously wasn't James' endearing qualities that had Grey saving his ass, considering that their conversations had consisted of sarcasm and... kicking the shit out of each other. It was the familiarity of him that had Grey forming a sort of... attachment. He tried to remind himself that the way he was attached to James was the way that you might get attached to a stray dog outside of work--with a mixture of annoyance and expectancy, because the same damn dog showed up every day, and you kept giving it scraps of your lunch, perhaps grateful for the company. Sometimes you might kick it away in exasperation, but then you'd throw it the leftover brisket.

The difference had been that James had been a trespassing tiger, that downscaled to a tiger trapped in a pit. The annoyed-attached feeling was a result of the fact that Grey saw... Well, he didn't know. He remembered the fights he had had with his friends in Imperium, the conflict, the violence. He missed it, as twisted as it sounded (even to him). It had become habit, and in Fallen he wasn't allowed to get into a fistfight over a disagreement. Sometimes he thought that blood spilled among comrades only created a sort of brother-ship on the combat field, when the time came.

"I know," Grey said, finally. "But Fallen isn't right. I don't have anything against them, but... I... I come from a sort of messed up, military background." That made it sound simpler than it was. "I fought or killed people for a living. And now, in Fallen, people are afraid of me or nervous around me or overly kind." He shrugged, but did not add, and none of them seem like a real friend, or comrade, or anything like that. They put up with me.

At the mention of humans, Grey sneered. The idea of being "human" was not one that he liked to entertain. "I don't believe in keeping all of your humanity. You're part animal for a reason." He left it at that. It would be hard to delve into a lifetime's worth of prejudice.

Grey was keeping a sharp eye on his "escapee", making sure that James wasn't about to collapse. The pain was obvious in his movements, but he was keeping a relatively good pace. The foothills wouldn't be too much farther, and from there Grey wouldn't have to be so worried about someone spotting them over the open desert. "You say you come from a fighting background?"

ooc: sorry this got so long!

[James Colt]

"They talk about 'humanity' like it's a good thing. Animals don't lock other animals up just to watch them struggle, or experiment on them just to see what happens."

[/color]

James tensed a little at the question, considering how to answer. It wasn't something he talked about much, usually evading the question or changing the subject, but there was something easy and almost freeing about talking to Grey. He supposed that it couldn't hurt to answer honestly for a change, Grey seemed to be being open with him after all.

"It wasn't exactly by choice,"[/color] he began with a shrug, "Apparently in some parts of the world watching shifters fight each other is considered very entertaining, somewhat like a cross between a dog fight and a cage match. I was taken when I was thirteen, there were more than a hundred of us back then. By the time we escaped there were only twenty three.[/color]

"The fighting wasn't too bad, after a while I got pretty good at it, even enjoyed it a little. It sucked having to fight your friends though, it was easier not to make any in the first place, that way the owners couldn't use them against you."[/color] His eyes darkened a little and he stopped it there, no sense in getting into what happened when they did have someone to use against you. Bad enough he had to see that in his nightmares, without dragging it out now.

He was panting hard and swaying a little on his feet, but, with Grey nearby, he didn't have to worry about getting lost, and he was able to focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. It was harder than it should have been, and his vision had started to swim a little, but he was still upright and moving. That was a feat in itself.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[grey]

Grey snorted, in complete agreement. Humanity was hard to preach when you didn't practice it, wasn't it? He scanned the desert before and behind them, keeping his eyes opened. Grey thought that it might be an advantage if he were in his wolf form, and he shifted in the middle of his stride, hitting the ground on four legs rather than two. His ears were erect, tilted forward. All he heard was the wind and the sound of James' voice. But it was good to be cautious.

"I know the kind of things you're talking about. Ha, actually... one of my final exams when I was a kid was on the morality of those fighting rings. We rarely intervened, because most of them were very secretive." He shrugged his shoulders, feeling empathetic despite his apparent disregard of the subject. He cleared his thoughts, figuring that it was a subject that James did not want to dwell on, particularly if he had lost friends during his time there.

For Grey? Loosing friends was a part of life. He had lost so many of them sometimes their faces blurred together. Some of them were a part of accidents, some of them got "discharged", some of them were killed on the job. "It sounds very lonely though." He had to admit that. His life had been centered around comradeship and having the backs of people. Not fighting alone. "I was... a part of this organization. We worked to keep shapeshifters a secret." And then, with a tinge of dry humor; "It obviously didn't work." His haunch brushed James' leg. He recognized the pain in his eyes, the way that it hurt for him to move.

[James Colt]

James smirked a little, "Well, no one has to worry about trying to shut down that fighting ring. All the humans running it turned up with mysteriously ripped out throats."

[/color] He looked at Grey and grinned fiercely, his eyes glinting with savage delight. He didn't enjoy killing, not usually, but he made an exception for the bastards who had held him in a stinking cell and forced him to fight, the bastards who had taken his brother from him. He had thoroughly enjoyed killing them.

His left leg was starting to feel numb, which while an improvement on the deep jolt of pain with every step, was just a little worrying. Gritting his teeth he forced himself to move a little faster, he didn't know how much longer he could keep this pace up. They were nearing the foothills, maybe when they got there he would be able to rest for a while? He shook his head a little, dismissing the thought; If he stopped moving he wasn't sure he'd be able to start again for a while. He needed a good nights sleep, a decent meal and a healer who would do more than just keep him alive. Then maybe he wouldn't feel like a stiff breeze would knock him over.

He wished he could shift, he could move faster and easier as a tiger than as a man, and at least then his teeth and claws would mean he wasn't unarmed. He didn't like leaving his knives behind, but he knew there hadn't been time to look for them. If it came to a fight he'd just have to rely on electrical attacks, and the fact that no one in their right mind would think he was a real threat right now.

"I suppose it was pretty lonely, which is a little weird considering I was crammed in a cell with twenty other shifters. It wasn't to start with, my broth-, there was someone with me. He kept me as safe as he could, made sure I ate, tried to patch me up when the humans wouldn't. After he... was gone, there was no one else. After we escaped it was a little different, I was the oldest one left and the only one who seemed capable of keeping us alive, so I sort of took control. They didn't like that much, for the first year or so I had to deal with a challenge every week or so. They all thought they could do a better job."[/color]

He snorted, those challenge fights could barely be considered a fight at all, a quick scuffle that invariably ended in the challenger submitting and then he was leader again. He wondered what it would have been like if their had been a real challenge. Could any of the other children have kept them alive and free for nearly four years? He supposed it was pointless to speculate, but he couldn't help but let his mind wander a little as he trudged towards the foothills.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[grey]

"Well, no one has to worry about trying to shut down that fighting ring. All the humans running it turned up with mysteriously ripped out throats." Grey's jaws parted in a wolfish, savage grin. That was the way things ought to have turned out more often, in his opinion. It would have saved shapeshifters a whole lot of trouble.

Grey began to worry. Not enough to comment, but he knew that it was taking some serious... not dedication, per se, but resolve to continue on their little journey. His eyes flicked to James as often as they did to his surroundings, making sure that the Carna was still standing.

His next comment told Grey more about him than he had learned in the past several days. The Carna had had a brother--it was a bit of information that he was certain James hadn't wanted to slip--that had been important to him. That brother was now dead. He had organized, it sounded like, the escape. And he had been the one to care for the others--was it out of a sense of duty, or habit, or compassion? Grey couldn't help but wonder, but he didn't want to ask. "It was a rough life." His comment was idle. But then he decided to offer the Carna a compliment. "The group I was a part of would have called it a fighter's life. There are very few compliments that are higher than that."

He would leave it at that. Grey trotted forward, to get a view over the crest of a sand-dune. Beyond it, he could see the foothills, and the slow decrease of sand into a more hard-packed sand-dirt. The land was dotted with shrubbery, most of it yellowed and dead. He flicked an ear in James' direction. "At the bottom of this dune, you can rest for a few seconds, catch your breath. We'll slow our pace some through the hills."

As long as Grey kept himself moving, he didn't have to think about what being a traitor implied. He figured that if James were to tell so much about himself, Grey owed him something in return. So he began to speak, as he waited idly for James to catch up and make his way up and down the dune. "I was born in Germany, but not in a hospital. My fingerprints were burned off when I was five." He remembered that clearly. The agony of it. His mother trying to sooth him, and failing. "Before I was even old enough to consent, I was dedicated to an organization that believed in the superiority and secrecy of shapeshifters. I spent my whole life trying to keep... keep that secret, I guess."

And it was the biggest failure of his life, aside from Cole.

Grey had paused at the bottom of the dune as he spoke, allowing James a moment to catch his breath. But that moment was gone, and the wolf shook out his fur and began to walk at a slow (but steady) pace, through the foothills.

"Ever since I can remember I had a sort of purpose. In the group I was a part of, it was all about comradeship and brotherhood and... Fallen is very lonely in comparison. It is a group of people just trying to survive, and I... want to do more than that." Grey wanted to thrive. And he could not admit the real reason for his betrayal, was for the better of none other than Nycole Sivis, who was so tired of being alone. And he knew it. But she would never stay if he was there as well.

Grey sneezed sand from his nose, shaking his head. He was hard not to think on it, but he really didn't want to.

[James Colt]

James went down on one knee with a grimace, taking several deep breaths. They stretched his ribs painfully but it was a relief to be able to breathe properly. He nodded gratefully at Grey, both for the few moments rest and the unexpected compliment. "I suppose we're all fighters now, or at least, we are if we want to live."

[/color]

As he rested he listened to Grey attentively, wincing a little at the though of having his fingertips burned off at such a young age, it must have been terrible. Grey began to walk off, and, with a resigned sigh, he heaved himself up and started walking slowly after the wolf. It was hard to make himself move, he didn't think there was a single part of his body that didn't hurt.

He kept moving though, focusing on Grey's voice instead of the pain. The group Grey had been with sounded harsh, but he had to admit, part of him would have liked the opportunity to be a part of something like that. As Grey said, it was nice to have a purpose, not just to trying to survive day to day. He wondered if he really had a purpose anymore. He was loyal to Carna, he did his job and brought back as much meat as he could, defended the borders when he had to, but did that count?

"I suppose Carna is sort of like one big, messed up family. Sure, we fight whenever we feel like it, and sometimes you feel like strangling the guy who sleeps near you for snoring, but only the Carna are allowed to beat up a Carna."[/color] He chuffed a laugh, even if he wasn't the most popular guy in the Carna, there was still a rough sort of companionship. That had been the main reason he'd joined a ring in the first place. He was more than capable of feeding himself, and he was pretty sure he could survive on his own. He didn't know if he could live on his own though.

As he walked, he was no longer paying attention to the terrain around him. Walking into a particularly gnarled bush, he managed to trip and lose his footing, landing flat on his stomach and skidding a little across the hard packed sand and dirt. At first he wasn't quite sure what had happened, he was seeing black spots dancing around and his face was pressed against the dirt. Slowly he lifted his head, spitting out sand and trying to gauge whether or not he'd done any more damage to himself. His ribs, which had settled into a throbbing ache, were now searing with pain. His shoulder felt like someone was slowly crushing it, and he really hoped that didn't mean he'd messed it up more.

"Well shit,"[/color] he groaned, pressing his forehead into the ground with frustration, "That'll teach me to pay attention to where I'm putting my feet."[/color]

He took as deep a breath as he could, and bit his lip preemptively as he attempted to move. As such the sound he made, something between a growl of frustration and a bellow of pain, was muffled. Still, he'd managed to simultaneously roll onto his left side and get his knees underneath him, so he was less of a crumpled heap and more of a... well, he was still a crumpled heap.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

ooc: I figured James was managing a little too well, I'm always so mean to him XD
I will send a pm with some plottage ideas I had.

[grey]

"Worry" was not a word that Grey used often, or believed had a place in his vocabulary.

He felt like this situation was deteriorating quickly, and he kept a keen eye on James' demeanor as he walked. While he did not permit himself to worry, he wasn't happy. Grey noted that his companion was keeping his good humor intact, which was admirable, but it was hard not to notice how his breath was catching now and then with pain, and there was an obvious sheen of sweat beginning at his brow. Grey was listening intently as James spoke, but he was also keeping an eye open for other Fallen or... Well. He was half-waiting for James to keel over at this point.

With that said, he probably could have done something to prevent James from getting a face-full of sand and brush, but Grey merely flicked his tail. He wasn't exasperated, per se. Just running out of patience with the situation. James was slow. Painfully slow. Not his fault, of course--actually, if they were going to be technical, it was mostly Grey's fault for putting him in this condition.

Grey looped backwards, coming to rest beside the Carna. "We just have a little bit farther, James, if you can get up." He was offering a reward for the pain. Carna territory. James just had to get up, and they could make it. Grey nudged a relatively uninjured side of James with his muzzle. It was hard to stay still.

At this point, the philosophy of Imperium would be mercy killing. Slit his throat. Put him out of his misery. But Grey was certain he could get the Carna back home, if he just stood up. Grey snorted, shook out his head, and shifted abruptly into a man. He was kneeling besides James, his expression attentive, as he went about cataloging James' injuries. "This is going to hurt."

Grey gave little warning before he managed to hook his arm under James uninjured shoulder. He braced his feet and, keeping a steady hand at James' waist, managed to haul the Carna into what could pass as a standing position. Aside from the general wobbliness of it. Grey winced for him. Those broken ribs wouldn't be feeling good, but at least he was standing.

Without waiting for James' to recover much, Grey positioned himself under James' arm, keeping one hand on the Carna's wrist. The other went to brace James' waist, in an attempt to steady him. Grey couldn't help but think that everything would be made a lot easier if he had a horse shift or something like that, so that he could haphazardly toss James over his back and make it the rest of the way to Carna. But those musings weren't going to make anything easier, and Grey wiped the sweat from his brow against his own shoulder.

"You're going to be fine." His tone was soft, almost conversational. He waited for James to regain his breath and get over the shock of pain. Once that was accomplished, Grey set off to half-dragging the Carna through the foothills, dead-set on their destination. "Talk. Distract yourself from the pain. What do you have waiting for you back in Carna, or..." Dare he say it? "... outside the Menagerie?"

Probably nothing. No brother. No family.

Grey sure as shit didn't have anything waiting for him, not anywhere. Just a whole lot of regrets.

[James Colt]

James tried to summon the strength to haul himself up, but he just didn't know if he could. He knew they were close to the Carna border, he just needed to go a little further... Grey seemed to be eager to move on, and he didn't blame him; the last thing either of them wanted was to be caught by a Fallen patrol. He tried to move again, and only succeeded in jarring his ribs further before falling back down, not strong enough to haul himself up at the moment. He hated it, hated being weak, pathetic, he had to get up, or he'd die like a dog.

He was surprised and confused when Grey shifted and came over to help him up. He still didn't completely understand why Grey was bothering to help him, but he had to admit, it was... nice, just to have someone who wasn't going to leave him to die. All the warm, fuzzy feelings in the world didn't change the fact that this was going to hurt like hell though. He was thankful for Grey's warning, it gave him time to clench his jaw and give one grim nod.

The pain was breathtaking, his face went milk white and he clenched his jaw so hard he was surprised he didn't feel his teeth shifting, but he managed not to scream. By the time his vision had cleared he was more or less upright, his good arm slung over Grey.

"You're going to be fine." James dipped his head in thanks, "Sure I am,"

[/color] he gasped with obvious bravado, "Why- were y- ou getting- tired?"[/color] The humor fell a little flat when he half choked on the words. He hissed quietly as Grey started to pull him through the foothills, grateful that he was being held up. He hated being a burden, but he'd reached the end of his limited reserves.

Grey was right though, he needed to keep talking, keep conscious so he could at least try to carry some of his own weight.

"Got shit all waiting for me outside the Menagerie,"[/color] he laughed bitterly, "Even if I somehow escaped I'd probably just get myself caught again, might try and hunt down some of the keepers before that happened."[/color] He smirked a little, a bloodthirsty glint in his eye. Keepers came under the same category as the bastards who'd held him captive before them: No mercy.

"As for back with the Carna, I've got a nice little spot in the tunnels, a handful of people I haven't completely pissed off yet, it's not much, but it's home. 'Course it's always a bit rough and tumble, just as likely to end in a scrap than anything, but I don't think I'd have it any other way."[/color] He gave a tired grin, hobbling along and trying not to put too much strain on his ribs.

The foothills were slowly becoming more dirt than sand, he knew the border couldn't be too far away. They just needed to get out of Fallen territory, he was sure it wouldn't be too hard to find another Carna once they crossed the border. He didn't know what Grey planned to do after getting to the border, but he hoped that he'd be able to get away clean, wherever he chose to go. He would like to get the chance to repay his debt.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[grey]

He gave the Carna props for not screaming, but Grey saw the clench of his jaw and the way his face blanched with the pain. He didn't apologize for it; there was no point. This was going to hurt a lot for him, and no amount of gallows humor would prevent that.

So Grey listened to him talk, gently nudging the Carna whenever his consciousness seemed to waver. He was learning a lot more about James than he expected to, and he didn't think any of it was lies... Which was strange for Grey. People didn't tell him things so honestly, normally, and he didn't know what to say in response to James' comments. So he said nothing, not until the foothills faded and the desert bled into the scrub-land along the border. Grey caught sight of the barbwire fence, which he had forgotten about, and he mentally groaned.

"I take it you aren't a fan of barbwire." Grey's tone was dry. He had scars on his ribs from a run-in with it, in some rundown, redneck American town some five years ago, up against a longhorn shapeshifter--

Ah. Right now isn't the time to take a trip down memory lane. "Here. Sit. Wait. Kinda keep yourself hidden, and I'm going to go get... help." His tone still held a little distaste at that last comment, due to the fact "help" entitled a Carna.

But Grey settled James into the nook of a larger bush, keeping him partially hidden from view. Then he shapeshifted and took off at a quick run, narrowly jumping over a sagged area in the fence. It took him a while to catch the scent of a more recent patrol (Carna territory was an overwhelming influx of new information) and even longer to run them down.

Of course, there was the initial misunderstanding. If you could call it that. Before Grey had blinked, they had an arrow pointed at his head, and one of the three Scouts had a whip uncoiled. He had approached from behind, but in a matter of moments they had him circled. "What are you doing here, Fallen?" The girl asked him, her tone strangely like her whip.

Grey didn't know how to make them believe him. He was panting, and out of breath. "There... is... an... escaped Carna... on the border." He was struggling to regain his breath, and his heart was thundering as he said the next words. "I'm a Fallen... deserter."

He was certainly going to Hell for this. The Carna dissolved into an argument, questioning how genuine Grey was. Eventually they decided it was better not to risk it. They forced Grey to shift, and they told him to escort them to where James was. Not to mention, his hands were bound with some handcuffs one of the Scouts had been carrying, and there was the sharp tip of a spear pressed into his back by a young man.

It took a while to find James again, and Grey's patience was wearing thin by the time they had. He was telling the truth, for Christ's sake... But he would have thought a whole lot less of the Carna if they treated him on friendly terms, he supposed. When they saw James, they sent a few haphazard glances in each direction of the Fallen fence-line.

"You better hurry. The next patrol should be walking along this section of fence-line within the next forty minutes or so." Okay, so some of that was bullshit, but he figured it was at least accurate bullshit.

"Aw, shit. I recognize this kid! It's James!" It was the girl. She had wrapped up her whip and ducked under the barbwire to examine James and his injuries. "He's in rough shape, guys. We better take him to the Medics... Raul, get over here and help me."

The archer followed suit, and after some struggling the two of them had James strung between them. "What do we do about this guy?" The spear pressed into Grey's spine. He glanced at the girl, struggling to keep his face impassive rather than annoyed.

He disliked this. He hated the feeling of not having control of the situation anymore, and the press of the spear only reminded him that they could kill him if they wanted to. He flexed his fingers in the cuffs, trying to see if they were loose enough for him to slip his hands through--no. No they weren't.

James better say something, Grey thought. They were looking at him very skeptically as they managed to get James over the fence, and began to walk. "I wonder," said the girl. "Exactly how Colt here got into the state he's in."

Her gaze was an accusation.

ooc: sorry for the wait! and tell me if you want anything changed c:

[James Colt]

James sighed with relief when he saw the fence, before groaning in frustration as he realized he wouldn't be able to shift and jump over it. He could try to climb through it, but he'd surely end up doing more damage to himself in the process. His strength was all but gone now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk along until he found a gap he could get through.

Grey apparently made his decision for him though, plopping him down near a bush and going to get help. It was clear by his tone that help meant one of the Carna, and James was surprised and not a little worried that Grey would risk going into Carna territory alone.

"Be careful, some of them kill first and don't bother asking questions of a corpse. Don't let that happen."

[/color] He watched as Grey leaped over the fence, heading into Carna territory. James huddled down against the bush, wrapping his arms around himself with a wince, trying to stop himself from shivering. It wasn't cold, precisely, but the heat of the afternoon was fading, and a combination of exhaustion, delayed shock and dehydration made him feel a lot colder than he should. There wasn't anything he could do other than wait for Grey to come back though, hopefully with help.

After Grey had been gone a little while James couldn't help but worry. What if Grey has gotten himself killed by one of the more violent patrols? What if he couldn't find anyone? What if a Fallen patrol arrived before help did? He was in no condition to fight, the best he could do if that happened would be to try and make it through the fence and into his own territory and hope they wouldn't follow.

Despite the anxiety he could feel his eyelids drooping, and he had to fight to keep himself awake and aware. It wouldn't do to drift off only to wake up back in the pit. He wriggled a little, the sharp pain in his ribs and shoulder actually helping a little, it kept him awake. He kept one eye on the fence line while watching out for any Fallen, hoping that Grey would return soon with a Carna patrol.

He was beginning to fade out again when he saw movement on the Carna side of the fence. He pulled himself up a little out of the bush he'd been hiding in and focused his eyes on the people approaching. It was Grey, being 'escorted' by a Carna patrol, he recognized two of the scouts. He frowned a little at the way Grey's hands were bound, and the spear held threateningly at his back, but he supposed he would have done the same in the scout's position. They wouldn't have had any way to know that Grey was telling the truth instead of trying to lead them into a trap.

He waved his arm a little, drawing the attention of the scouts. They paused at the edge of the fence, clearly debating what to do. The girl, Carla he remembered her name was, got close enough to recognize him, and ducked under the fence, prodding at his injuries carefully. He hissed a little, shying away from the touch, but he was happy to see her. "'Ello Carla."[/color] he murmured, relieved that his fellow Carna had found him before the Fallen did. Carla called over a scout he didn't know except by sight, clearly intending to get him through the fence. Trying to help them as much as he could he stumbled to the fence. Raul held up the wire, allowing Carla to roll him underneath the fence.

A last James was back in Carna territory, slung between the two scouts. He glanced towards Grey, checking that the Fallen was unharmed. Grey was trying to keep his face impassive, but James could tell he didn't like having his hands bound, nor did he appreciate the spear that Nate had leveled on his back. The scouts clearly didn't trust Grey, Raul and Nate were glaring at him and Carla was watching both Grey and James carefully. "I wonder exactly how Colt here got into the state he's in." Carla's tone was hostile, she obviously thought Grey had something to do with injuring him.

Awww Carla, I didn't know you cared,"[/color] he raised an eyebrow suggestively, Carla just rolled her eyes at him, "Only some of this was him. Grey's with me."[/color]

Raul looked at him like he'd lost his mind, "Exactly how hard did you get hit over the head Colt? He's a Fallen! In case you haven't noticed they're our enemies!"

"You think I don't know that?"[/color] James snarled, his blue eyes flashing dangerously, "I just spent the last five days getting the crap beaten out of me by any Fallen with a grudge against the Carna, which turns out to be a lot of them! This guy kept me from bleeding out in the hole, stopped some Fallen from cutting off my fingers and dragged me across the desert so I could escape. He's with me."[/color]

James hauled himself up so he was mostly standing on his own power and glared at the scouts, his eyes blazing. He knew he wasn't exactly intimidating right now, he looked about as bad as he felt, but he was still able to stare down a few scouts. "You know we can't just let him go James," Carla said reasonably, "He was trespassing, and it'll be my ass on the line if I don't bring him in."

James thought for a moment, he knew he couldn't ask the scouts to disobey orders, but he didn't want Grey to be punished by the Carna for helping him, "Loosen the cuffs, let him walk without a spear in his back, we'll bring him to one of the leaders and I'll vouch for him. He might smell like a Fallen, but he'd make a decent Carna,"[/color] He turned to look at Grey, watching as Mark grumbled and loosened the cuffs, "Sorry if you wanted to go rogue Grey, but this is the only way I can help you short of falling strategically onto the scouts while you hoof it."[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote]

ooc: Sorry this is so long, it kept growing until it was this monster of a post.