SEEIN', SEEIN' DOUBLE [ hollface ]

[Tarrik Rosdahl]

YOU LOST IT ALL STILL WANTING SOME MORE_Tarrik
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He was usually a better hand in a fight than this, Tarrik belatedly thought as he struck a tree back-first, his head cracking sharply against the bark and making his ears ring. The little girl that had thrown him there let out a wild howl and dove after him, fist cranked back with the alarmingly clear intent to drive it into his chest. Tarrik's eyes widened and he threw himself clumsily aside, the girl's strength and speed enhanced strike colliding with the tree instead of his ribs with a sickening crunch of timber and bone. He wheezed out a mocking retort as she stumbled back in horror, eyes fixed on the misshapen mass where her hand was a moment before. "Sucks, doesn't it? Makes your muscles stronger, but.. but not yer bones." His laughter rasped past broken ribs and a bleeding tongue, his mind fogged from it's brief introduction to the ground, her heel, and the tree, in order.

When two strong arms seized him by the shoulders from behind, he dimly realized he had forgotten something. Someone, more like. A torrent of wholly negative sounding French reminded Tarrik that it was a man, a bull-shifter, who had probably not at all enjoyed being struck upside the head with an ice axe. Tarrik made a mental note to hit him harder next time. That thought led him to a rather more urgent one as he was hauled upright; where the blazes were his axes? When the ridiculously strong hands twisted him painfully around to face their owner, Tarrik could do little more than stare at the axe sticking into the back of their shoulder. Well, at least he'd found one of them, though he wasn't sure how easily he was going to get it back.

He gave the brute of a man a delirious, charming smile, and slide out of his grip as his form changed, landing lightly on paws and scampering straight between their legs. Not something a dog his size was usually able to do, but the man was a mountain. A very, very, tall mountain. Once behind him Tarrik shifted again, twisting and seizing ahold of the handle of his sporting equipment-turned-weapon, ignoring the way the word rocked and tipped like the deck of a ship, and yanked. To absolutely no effect. Well, at least none so far as axe-freeing was concerned, because there certainly was one from the man it was buried six-inches in. Namely that he became, in an instant, a two-thousand pound bull, and by nature of proximity, Tarrik was now sitting on its back. "...well shit."

Deep down, he got the distinct feeling that the next few moments were about to hurt terribly. And when he was right, he was right. The bull surged into motion beneath him and there wasn't a damn thing for him to do but grab tight to the axe handle for dear life, and he was successful for exactly two whirls and a buck before he and his weapon were thrown free; straight back into the loving arms of the little girl. He smiled, dizzy and nauseous, blood draining from a brand-new cut above his eye. She didn't. Thankfully, she was at least as surprised as he was to find him in her lap, and while her first reaction was to raise, then pause with her ruined hand, his was to swing the hammer-end of his axe up into her face for all he was worth. The crack of her cheekbone splintering brought him savage satisfaction for a short moment before he was tackled bodily off of her and forced flat on his back, the menacing snarl of lion inches from his nose. Perfect.

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ooc; will explain more of what he's doing here in next post, it was long enough already u.u

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] Rain lashed her wings as they beat slow and steady, maintaining her altitude above the city. Holly shook water from her eyes, silently cursing the foul weather. Water shed easily from her feathers, but that meant little when her wings were extended in flight, instead of being folded against her back. Without protection, her fur was quickly soaked. There was little to be done about it, however. Only so many Carna scouts had the capabilities needed to patrol so far from home in such conditions. If the wind were to pick up to storm speeds, smaller fliers would be forced from their air, a potentially deadly occurrence so close to enemy territory. Only a few, those with eagle or vulture shifts, could stay aloft in the fiercer winds. In the dark of approaching night, even fewer could see. Options were too limited to allow any of them much respite. With a sigh, she flattened her feathered ears against her head and scanned the ground below, squinting through the gray, dancing rain and uncertain shadows. Banking around a building, she caught a flicker of motion and color below, bright against the washed-out landscape. Tipping her wings, she drifted down cautiously for a closer look, getting a bearing on her surroundings. The hospital was to her right - she made a mental note to keep an eye out for viruses - and to the left was a small park that once mingled with the hospital gardens, creating a pleasant place for patients and families. At the fringes of the trees, four people. Holly swept around them in a wide circle, gaze hunting through the rain, trying to decipher the situation. Three shifters, who seemed to be working together, ganged up on a masculine figure. As she watched, the man was thrown into the little girl with a pulped hand, and then tackled by the lion that had been stalking closer. As he was flatted onto his back, Holly saw his face, and although bloody, it was one she recognized. With a furious eagle’s screech, underlaid with a snarl that indicated the sound wasn’t made by any true bird, her wings pulled in as she dove forward and plummeted from the sky. Snapping her wings open again, only feet from the ground, she swept out of her dive and shot straight into the lion who had her medic pinned. She twisted sideways and slammed into the other shifter, digging in with claws and viscous talons, yanking her wings closed as she let the momentum do the work. She continued into a roll, letting her shoulder take the brunt of the impact, back pressing briefly against the ground as she flung the cat away before landing smoothly on her paws. With a fierce snarl of satisfaction - she’d spent hours perfecting the move, and obtained many bruises and sprains doing so - she leapt after the downed opponent. As the cat struggled to its feet, she body slammed it, aiming to disrupt its balance, not knock it over. It was staggering, trying to recover, when her beak closed on the back of its neck. With a sharp twist, it broke with an audible snap, and the cat went limp. Immediately, a furious bellow sounded; it was her only warning, and Holly sprang aside, the enraged bull missing her by a hair. It circled and came back for a second pass. Holly crouched low and circled out, a faint growl rumbling in her throat, wings half rising. He could charge her all he wanted, but she’d just keep moving. The bull probably weighed four times as much as she did, but hell if she was going to let some tactless, musclebound fool intimidate her. ooc; I think we'd said it should be raining, so I assumed? xD words; 618

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

YOU LOST IT ALL STILL WANTING SOME MORE_Tarrik
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For a wild, panicked moment he thought the lion was going to just bite his face off, but then before it got the chance, something sent it flying off of him. Tarrik scrambled to his feet, dazed, and stared after his surprise rescuer. In truth he'd half expected it to be the bull-man, wanting to pleasure of killing Tarrik himself. What he most certainly did not expect however, was the monster of a creature currently launching itself at the lion again. He'd lost more blood than he'd thought; hallucinations were a bad sign.

The whateveritwas might not be on his side, but it certainly wasn't on their side, and that was good enough for him. Body sluggish and heavy, he turned and looked for the others. And he found them alright, he was knocked straight back off his feet by the shoulder of the charging bull, though thankfully it wasn't him he was interested in anymore. Not that a glancing blow from what felt more like a bus than an animal was particularly pleasant, he reflected as the treetops spun wildly above him as he lay, once again, prone. He was pretty sure two legs wasn't going to go too well for him and his recent mental divorce from gravity, so he jammed his axe back into the hammer-loop of his pants where he'd be able to find the darn thing later, and shifted yet again.

He staggered to his paws and looked around in time to see the girl running toward him in what seemed like accelerated motion. He mentally screamed for his body to react, and while it did, his limbs felt like lead. Hell, he couldn't even feel the shoulder where the bull had struck it. He didn't make it more than a few drunken steps before she was upon him, rage showing through the mess of her face, which he dimly noted was something less of a horror-movie prop than it should have been. Unnatural strength, speed, and healing, and all he had was freaking emotion manipulation. He didn't know who he wanted to kick in the teeth more; the stupid rogue girl or the stupid keepers.

Tarrik was saved from a skull-crushing kick by stumbling over something and landing in a roll that forced the air from his lungs as he struck his already broken ribs. Both he and the girl took a short second to register what exactly he'd fallen over; the dead body of the lion shifter from before. There was a tense moment of stillness between the two of them where the girl practically vibrated with rage, and Tarrik realized the monsterthing was showing him up. The last shred of dignity he was still in contact with yowled in upset, and he launched himself up at the rogue. She'd had him on the run, and he was bruised and bleeding from a dozen different wounds. The half second of surprised pause was enough for his teeth to sink into the pale softness of her throat. She gurgled in surprise, and he felt her good hand close on the skin on the back of his neck, tight as a vise. A half second later and she threw him in a blind panic away, though it was too late. Tarrik's mouth, throat and chest were soaked with red, and the damage left by his teeth as she ripped him away was nothing short of obscene. He didn't see her collapse as he twisted midair, shifting for better balance. It was useless, and as the back of his neck and head struck a tree truck and he crumpled to the ground, the world dissolved into a haze.

-----
ooc; LOL OR NOT. I will eventually, I swear xD

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] When the bull raced toward her with a bellow, she made a split second decision to surprise it, and charged back. Its stride faltered for a moment, and the hesitation was all Holly needed. She bounded into the air, a downstroke of her wings giving her extra lift, and twisted around midair. The bull’s momentum had carried him unerringly forward, and when she dropped, it was right onto his shoulders. Immediately, she sank her talons deep into the slabs of muscle on the beast’s shoulders, barely getting a grip before it started bucking. She growled and slashed at the back of its neck with her beak, but the heavy muscle there provided too much protection. She could probably rip her way through eventually, but it would take time she didn’t have, and there was little chance she could get to the throat. With a mental shrug, she decided that this plan wasn’t well thought out, and quickly revised. Raking her claws along its flank elicited a furious bellow, so she did it again. The bull bucked and twisted with maddened pain, but she only sank her talons deeper. It had been trying to throw her since she’d landed on it, and was tiring. As soon as she felt the motion slow, she flung herself back into the air. Panting from the effort of maintaining a low altitude, she cut a tight circle and dove at the bull, harrying it with wings and claws. It evidently had had enough, and at the sight of its dead companions, fled. Holly sank gratefully to the ground, flanks heaving. “Cowardly hunk of beef,” she muttered contemptuously, pulling her wings in against her back. Then she abruptly realized something, and turned around. Dead companions? She had only killed the one. But sure enough, both lion and viscous little girl lay still on the ground. Her tail lashed in surprise. Since when did the whelp rip out anyone’s throat? How long had they been harassing him, to drive him to such extremes? Shaking her head, she crossed over to where he lay sprawled on the ground, splashing through puddles of water tinged red with blood. Form sliding into its slender, two-legged shape, she knelt beside the battered, filthy man. Taking hold of his upper arm, she manhandled him so he was lying on his back, trying to be as gentle as possible. And an axe? What the hell was he doing here anyway? She grimaced at the unanswered questions, but set them aside as she started with his fingers, flexing the joints and checking for broken bones. Up to his neck, then down to his ankles. Finishing, she sat back with a sigh. Though his ribs were broken, his breathing was clear. His head concerned her the most, but there was little she could do about that. She had basic first aid skills, but they were focused on bandaging, stitching, and setting bones. Internal injuries were beyond her. She’d have to wait for him to wake, and hope he could heal it himself. “Oh, Tain,” she sighed. Wiping rain off her face with her forearm, she stood and looked around. They were too close to the Hospital for her liking, and she didn’t want to try transporting him all the way back to Carna. She didn’t have the materials to make a litter, and slung across her back the motions of flight could aggravate his injuries. And unconscious, there was a greater chance he’d fall off. Making a decision, she bent over, set her heels, and did her best to haul up the prone man. Considering he weighed twice what she did, she was only partially successful, but it was all she needed. Panting, she got her shoulder under him and shifted, edging sideways as she did so. When the transformation was complete, he was draped over her shoulders, resting against the powerful muscles of her wing joints. Turning, she went to move off, then glanced down as a sheen of metal caught her eye. An axe lay in the mud, a match to the one on the medic. With a roll of her eyes, Holly picked up the axe in her beak, then stepped forward into a gentle lope, vanishing into the rain and shadows under the trees. Several minutes later, she dropped to a walk as she reached Delica Park, looking around for a suitable place to hole up for a while. A dense copse of trees caught her attention, and she squeezed her was cautiously into the middle. It wasn’t perfect, but at least the rain was less, and the ground was covered in low plant growth instead of mud. She rolled her shoulder to nudge to medic. “Graywall, you awake-ish yet? I’d rather not dump you on the ground, but my options are that or shift and get flattened.” ooc; longpost is long -dies- words; 813

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WORTH FIGHTING FOR_Tarrik
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He was distantly aware of being lifted, then carried, but every time he tried to focus on a sensation it just drifted away into nothing. It would have been frustrating if he's been of his senses enough to be frustrated. As it was he felt only a distant, foggy curiosity, though he did enjoy the heat seeping into him from whatever he was on. As the minutes passed other things came into clarity; the warm rain on his back, the brush of leaves on his arms and legs, the distinct side to side rocking motion of a large animal beneath him, the painful throbbing of his heartbeat in his temples. It was all very odd, but he let it be and simply lay there, too exhausted to bother with anything.

At least until the rocking stopped, and a surprisingly feminine voice made itself known. It, she, wanted him to get off of her. "Shaddup, m' comfortable," he growled, but obediently tried to push himself up. Immediately his head rung like a church bell and he flailed to press his hands to it, and half toppled and half slid forward over her shoulders, landed in an awkward somersault, then sprawled on the ground, moaning. Absolutely everything in his body objected in one way or another, but all he could do was try and stop the damnable sledgehammer swinging from temple to temple. It all looked very manly, he was sure. After a moment and very little respite, he cracked his eyes open and peered up at what he dimly recognized from.. somewhere. It, she he reminded himself, must have known him, since she'd called him by name. At least he thought it was his name.

But really, what the hell was the creature? He obviously recognized her from somewhere, but couldn't for the life of him remember the name. "Sorry, can't.. who are you again?" He sounded about as pitiful as he looked, which was to say, plenty. He wasn't afraid of her at least, which was a good sign. The last thing he needed was some stranger kidnapping him off and eating him, or whatever it was weird strangers did.

-----
ooc; idiot x'D

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] She couldn’t help but wince in sympathy when he tumbled to the ground. Stepping closer, she peered down at him with mild concern. “Gonna live?” After a moment, his eyes cracked open, but her relief was short lived. Her ears flattened in unease at his question. Just how badly had he hurt his head? “Holly,” she told him. “Holly Kingston.” She shifted for a moment to let him see her face, then slid back into her griffin form. “Let’s get you out of the rain, huh?” Though it wasn’t cold out, the rain could get chilly, especially if you weren’t moving, and she had no idea if he would go into shock or something. Carefully nudging him into a sitting position, she nosed her head under his arm so it was wrapped around her neck. Straightening, she hauled him gently to his feet and, supporting most of his weight, padded slowly across the clearing. Pausing under a gap in the canopy where the rain fell more heavily, she tilted her face up to let it wash the blood from her beak and throat. She cast a sideways look at the medic. Whereas she only had a light splatter from slashing at the bull, he would need a great deal of scrubbing to be clean. For a moment she considered finding a stream to dump him in, but discarded the idea. With his healing powers, there was little risk of infection, so it would be better to let him rest. Still, she lingered for a few moments, letting him rinse a bit before continuing over to a sprawling bush. She laid down, back against the brush, with deliberate slowness to avoid jostling him unnecessarily, first dropping her haunches then carefully lowering her chest and shoulders, and with them, the injured Graywall. He ended up seated just behind her shoulder - she nudged him into the curve of her body, then spread a wing over him, creating a low, warm roof, curling enough to keep her head under cover as well. With a weary sigh, she dropped her head to her paws. “I’m going to have to walk you home, aren’t I?” With his irrational fear of heights, flying was impossible - doubly so with broken ribs, and she wouldn’t put it below him to refuse to heal them just he could keep both feet on the ground. She snorted. “What were you thinking, going out here all alone? You’re gonna get yourself killed.” Tain was not know for his prowess in battle. ooc; GRAYWALL, Y U NO HEALING? words; 421

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WORTH FIGHTING FOR_Tarrik
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He smiled cheekily up at Holly when she supplied the name, a touch of apology in his expression. Not only was it embarrassing in itself not remembering her, but she was cute, as he saw when she shifted back for a short moment. Smooth of him, very smooth. More so when he discovered he actually needed her help to stand and walk, the ground was still doing it's best impression of a ship deck. If a ship could go three-hundred-sixty degrees all the way around, that is.

They made it across the clearing like a wounded deer, and Tarrik took a cue from her and tilted his head back, eyes shut, and let the rain wash off the rogue's lifeblood. He could taste it, rich and coppery in his mouth. At least his shirt was red, and wouldn't take too much damage from the gore. When they got to somewhere that apparently pleased Holly, he was bundled down like a kitten against her side. He eyed her, dignity sinking, and reached over and retrieved his second axe. He'd noticed the other hanging from his pants, and figured the other must be his. Wasn't very nice to make her carry it and him around, after all.

"No, I will be walking you home," he chided, nudging her lightly with an elbow. "You're the skirt." He couldn't keep the smile out of his voice, even though everything hurt like hell. Then she asked what he'd been doing, and he rubbed at his jaw, face screwed up in concentration. At first he remembered nothing, but then as he focused, a few ideas floated up. "The hospital, I remember that. I was getting.... supplies? Found some too, the rain keeps the.. the things at bay. Someone told me not to go, I think, but..." He shrugged helplessly, then looked down at himself and frowned. He clearly had none of those supplies now. "Oh! Right, there was someone. Um. More than one.. they stole them from me, I think." The faintest flicker of memory stirred, a giant bull, and he shivered slightly. "Jerks, should just get their bloody own, right?" he complained, reaching over automatically to pet her neck in an affectionate manner.

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ooc; eejit, it is not Charm </3

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] “And you’re the dog,” she retorted without missing a beat, expression as straight as only a griffin can manage. “Perhaps I should get a leash. It would certainly help prevent you from getting into situations like this.” She pointedly eyed his battered, filthy state. Really, who had decided it would be a good idea to let him wander off by himself? Whoever it was that told him not to go should work on delivering more effective orders. He was just a whelp, it’s not like he could easily get away with disobeying a direct command. Maybe he’d wheedled the permission out of them. “Three someones,” she corrected. “I don’t know if they stole supplies from you or not, I was a bit too preoccupied to check.” As she paused to recall the brief fight, a soft purr started to rumble in her chest as he ran his hand along her neck. She twisted her head around so he could get the itchy spots, delighting in the attention as he combed his fingers through her feathers. He worked his way down to her shoulder, and she gave a contented sigh. “If you’re willing to keep that up, you can share my bed any time.” She shoved back the feline instinct that wanted her to twine around him like a house cat, begging for pets. Her shift was bit too large and unwieldy for that sort of thing, and she didn’t want to be a pest when he was clearly still hurting. Tain had a tendency to trail her around like a very friendly puppy; sometimes she would allow him to sprawl beside her for the night, enjoying the companionship and friendship. Just as frequently, she would chase him off in good natured annoyance at his antics. If he was willing to provide such attention, however, she would probably tolerate more of his mischief. Her purring got louder as he found a particularly sensitive spot behind her feathered ears. Her eyes had closed, but as she brought herself back to the present, Holly reluctantly opened them again. “We can stop on the way back and see if the bull left the supplies behind. No sense in leaving them lying around, if you went to all that trouble to get them.” With such scarce resources, they couldn't afford to waste any. ooc; 8'D words; 390

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WORTH FIGHTING FOR_Tarrik
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Tarrik was extremely pleased with himself when he coaxed a purr out with his attention, and twisted to work down her neck and shoulders, the feathers a fascinating sensation under his hands. It was odd that it was unfamiliar since he clearly knew Holly, but perhaps he'd just never gotten around to petting her shift. The thought excited a sensory memory; thick grey and brown fur bristling under his fingers, and sleeker, shorter fur under his thighs, like he was sitting on it. The memory was only a heartbeat long but sharp, and he worked his jaw in futile contemplation; it had already slipped back into the fog. For a short, terrifying moment, he tried to imagine what could have happened to him if Holly hadn't found him, even if he had somehow survived without her. He couldn't even remember his name before, and clung to it now, Graywall.

But she was right, there had been three; the bull, the girl, and the lion. Rogues, he thought, though as opposed to what he couldn't fathom. In general, he supposed. She didn't seem broken up over it, so he wasn't either, and occupied himself reaching around to a spot Holly was clearly trying to present to him. The comment that followed brought a smile to half his face, while the other half stubbornly remained a bloody, immobile mess. At least it didn't hurt so much anymore. "Anytime huh? Aren't I supposed to ask you out first or somethin'?"

Thankfully Holly was thinking ahead, and suggested they go look for the medicine he'd lost. With no warning he lurched to his feet and swayed dangerously as his head spun, but somehow managed to turn and look at her in a haughty manner, hand extended. The fact that he was looking about two feet too far to the right only somewhat diluted the effect. "It's a date then, yeah? I mean I'm not that bad of a boyfriend, I just need a few.. stitches. And stuff." He really was doing his damnedest to look dashing and not pitch over at the same time. Why the hell shouldn't he try? He was fairly sure she was pretty from the short glance he'd seen, and her voice certainly was. Besides, she swooped in and saved him, he was pretty sure that meant at least dinner was required. Of course, hunting for probably blood-covered supplies in a downpour was somewhat unorthodox, but in his present state, it didn't seem so bad an idea.

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ooc; 8'3

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] “That hasn’t stopped you yet,” she remarked dryly. Her wry expression abruptly shifted to alarm as he flung himself to his feet. She rose quickly in case he should fall, eyeing him as she did so. There didn’t seem to be any change to his outward injuries, which worried her, as did the fact that his vision was clearly off. Still, he managed to stay on his feet, so she relaxed a fraction. He’ll make himself better soon, she consoled herself. It just takes time. At his next remark, unease fluttered in her breast, only to be quickly tamped down. Underneath the automatic distress at the thought of labels and spoken promises, she was surprised. Either he was being silly, although at the moment it was difficult to tell, or his head was addled. Silently scolding herself for the overreaction, she shifted to give herself a brief moment to recollect, then lifted an eyebrow at him. “Boyfriend? Someone thinks highly of himself. But you do owe me a date, since you crashed the last one,” she consented. Crossing over to him, Holly took the extended hand and drew his arm over her shoulders so she could support some of his weight and supply most of his balance. For all the size of her shift, her shoulders still wouldn’t be in line with his. As a human, they still weren’t, but at least it was less of gap. She wrinkled her nose briefly at his less-than-clean self, but resigned herself to it, tucking herself carefully against his side. Her clothes were already so worn and stained, a bit more blood wouldn’t ruin them. They started making their way out of the copse of trees, back toward the hospital. Holly knew immediately, from their pace, that the distance she had covered in a few minutes would probably take them half an hour. She cast a sideways glance at the medic. It would be faster if he rode, but she didn’t know if his dignity - or his broken ribs - would allow for it. With a mental shrug, she decided to leave it up to him. If he seemed unduly pained or needlessly struggling, she would suggest it, but until then would continue as he felt able. ooc; not a whole lot going on in this one -faceplants- words; 381

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S WORTH FIGHTING FOR_Tarrik
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He made an effort not to lean too hard on Holly, though at times he wasn't quite successful. He felt rather better for the moment, still like he'd been run over by a train, but perhaps a smaller one than before. Not to mention Holly had agreed to his impromptu 'date,' though thankfully he managed to suppress the almost certainly maniacal laughter that tickled in his throat. Just wait till he told Da.. De... Dol... -his face scrunched up-, the coyote later.

They made fair progress though, he was unbalanced and seemingly ignorant of just where the gravity was supposed to be coming from, but managed to swing out his legs in a decent stride. "M'thinking about it, and I only crash the Coyote's dates, I think," he said an entirely inappropriate length of time later, and nodded sagely as they emerged into the torn up and muddy clearing. Once disentangled from Holly's assistance he shifted once again, steadier on four legs than two, and started to search. The two bodies were still there, the throat of the nearby girl was open nearly to the spine, and Tarrik licked his teeth distrustfully, though thankfully didn't encounter any fleshy bits with his tongue. He was hungry, he realized somewhat sulkily, though he was pretty sure he shouldn't be while surrounded by gore. All the same his stomach gurgled pitifully, and he clenched the muscles of his stomach to try and shut it up.

"Why were you flying in the storm anyways?" he asked, voice raised over the shiver of water on leaves as he pawed fruitlessly at what turned out to be a length of someone's clothes. "Didja want to get fried? ...and soaked? I mean, awful funny time to be out hunting." He glanced over, ears and tail perked up cheekily. "Looking for someoneeeee? ..say, you're not my boss are you?" Mock horror ruled his tone and he turned back to search more, hopeful despite himself. A bit more snuffling about finally turned up a pack nestled in the roots of a tree, and he plucked it up in his mouth and sauntered over to Holly, then presented it as a dog might a stick. It wasn't that he was unable of telling what were in it if he were to open it, rather that he skeptical of his fine motor functions at the moment, and the zipper was alarmingly teeny.

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ooc; g'boy, fetchies 8'3

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] Coyote? Her eyebrows knit in confusion as she frowned, trying to remember the coyote shifters in the Carna. She’d only drawn up a short list, and as far as she knew, the medic wasn’t particularly close to any of them. However, she was prevented from questioning further by their arrival at the clearing. Already the rain was washing away the blood, and the scene was eerie - bodies ripped and mangled, but bloodless, scattered on the wet, muddy grass like discarded trash. Tain pulled away from her and shifted, hunting through the mess. She hunkered down, settling on the balls of her feet, forearms resting on her knees as she scanned the area with her magnified vision. At the medic’s question, she shrugged a shoulder. “Work doesn’t stop just because it’s raining. I was scouting - there aren’t exactly lots of us who can fly in the rougher weather. And there hasn’t been any lightning,” she pointed out, then curled a lip in distaste. “Besides, hunting is boring. I’ve been trying to avoid it.” When she got her new shift, everyone had just assumed that she would switch into the hunters. They didn’t seem to realize how much she disliked waiting around for a deer to show up. Seeing nothing of interest on the open ground, Holly went to poke around the tree line. “I may not be your direct boss, but I still rank you,” she called over her shoulder, with a certain amount of teasing superiority. Turning around when she heard him approaching, she crouched again to take the pack from him and work the zipper open. Balancing the open case on her knee, she sorted through the contents. “Hmm. Antibiotics, hand sanitizer, some water purifier stuff, anesthetic, stitching needles and thread....” She trailed off, eyebrows rising. “Nice. It must be a Keeper drop.” Closing the pack, she stood and slung it over her shoulder and grinned at the dog. “Let’s get home, huh? You’ll eat well tonight.” She ruffled his ears affectionately, then lifted her gaze in the direction of the waterfront. It wasn’t far, but it would still be faster to fly. “I don’t suppose you want to ride?” she asked with a sigh, lacking any hope that he might agree. For Tain, even a foot off the ground was a foot too high. ooc; HAH. /LESS/ THAN A MONTH u.u words; 390

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

SOMEHOW, LOST ONE MORE WAY BACK HOME _Tarrik
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He relished the head pat with a delighted whine, tail thumping wetly against the muddy earth. The Keepers were an odd bunch, he thought, sending monsters after them but also leaving supplies. Perhaps it made for good television. Almost better than the pat had been the promise of food, and his stomach chimed in with a thunderous snarl. It seemed his stomach could overcome all situations, truly, the organ of a champion. Or perhaps of a PMSing woman, though he wasn't entirely sure; he did loathe chocolate, after all, and that probably voted him out of their club. That and his testicles. Which were totally soaking wet and in the mud, he realized belatedly, and longed for pants.

Holly might have acquired telepathy, he realized, when she asked if he wanted a ride. Compared to tilting in the large looping circles he suspected he might follow should he attempt to continue walking on his own, riding a horse sounded downright splendid. The image of a dark, rich bay filled his head, and he glanced around as though expecting it to be there. It was not, and his pale eyes turned to Holly in a only somewhat accusatory manner as he shifted, still firmly seated on his ass. "I do not see the horse," he explained patiently, hoping she might somehow produce one. And once he started talking again, he didn't seem wont to stop. "Unless you've hid it, which is an off thing to do, right? They're friendly things, nosy." He nodded sagely, pleased with his deductions.

"How did you get one to follow you anyways? You were flying, I remember, wings out wiiiiiiide." Tarrik held his hands out as far as he could to demonstrate the width he was describing, and frowned at the too-short distance, disappointed. Not that he really needed to be, as they were hers after all. He supposed she might know the span of her own wings, or at least have a very rough idea, as one might gather from not falling out of the sky. At least not on accident. "I'd rather not walk, though, the ground is spinning. I think. ........com'ta think of it, could just be me."

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ooc; the latest late that ever lated, yo.

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] She stared at him for a moment. “Not a horse, dumbass. Me.” She made a face at the unfortunate terminology that always seemed so unavoidable - ‘do you want to ride me?’ was just wrong on several levels, the least of which was her dignity - but continued without giving him a pause to insert a remark. Not that he was necessarily coherent enough to be quick witted. “Flying’s faster than walking, even if it’s not far. Although...” She drummed her fingers against her thigh, considering. “I suppose I could carry you on foot, since it’s not a long distance.” Her griffin form wasn’t built like a horse. She could support a tremendous weight in the air, although it made her wings sore, but on the ground, her legs took the burden less graciously. A small female or a child was no problem, but over 200 lbs of medic was pushing her limits to the extreme. She could lift that much without horrendous trouble, but carrying it for more than a few minutes was trying. She shrugged a shoulder. “We can try it, if you want.” Holly paused to eye him warily. “I’m pretty sure it’s you, not the ground. Can’t you do something about that?” He was making her nervous with this persistent dizziness, and the scrapes and cuts didn’t appear any different, although it was difficult to tell under his liberal coating of gore and mud. She hunkered down in front of him, letting the pack slide off her shoulder, and took his head gently in her hands, tilting it a bit so she could peer at his eyes, trying to determine how screwy his pupils were. “I know you have this misguided tendency to try to heal others before yourself, but this really isn’t the time for that. You’re hurt badly, you idiot. So patch yourself up and we can go home.” The matter of fact tone didn’t quite cover the underlay of concerned pleading. ooc; shortposts are what you get when I'm on a schedule. </3 words; 328

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

SOMEHOW, LOST ONE MORE WAY BACK HOME _Tarrik
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Had he been of a more usual speed of wit, something no doubt scandalous might have followed her statement, but as he was he settled for a mere grin. Besides, her voice was pretty, so he let her continue, though she made less sense than he had. Why on earth would he ride a lioneaglething on the ground?! He held off on that comment as well when she came down to his level to stare at his face, something he thought she ought not do unless she meant to kiss it, but the rain-acquired clingyness of her shirt at this proximity made up for it. Almost. He tilted his head slightly, one pupil hilariously larger than the other, and stared thoughtfully. It was a very close call, he decided. And she'd been talking again, whoops.

"...uh," he started, eyes snapping up to hers in a deer in headlights fashion. "I.. can't be bothered. Nope. Not here." his hands swept out to encompass the battlefield. "Bad juujuu for healing. Very bad. Simply can't be done." A smile cracked his lower lip, and a line of red slid down his chin toward his throat, though he didn't notice. Holly was, he'd gathered, rather stubborn. She was also more like to do what he wanted when he rushed or alarmed her, and his master plan was quickly formulated; in that he had a brief thought, and found it brilliant. As he was it felt like the same thing.

"If you won't fly me, I'll have to walk. Pick me up when you want somma this, babe." And with that parcel of wisdom he threw himself back to his feet and staggered to the left, ice axe whacking himself in the back of the knee before he toppled straight back down to earth. "Hn," he managed, appreciative of the cool feel of the mud soaking into his abused upper back as he fought to get air back in his lungs. "....I must admit, haste would be appreciated."

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] She tried to be gracious of the fact that his head was currently addled and ignore the way he considered her chest, but with only moderate success. Instinct urged her to turn away, to mock him, or to growl a warning. Instead, she forced herself to remain still until he looked up at her. Gray eyes narrowed at his outrageous statement - “bad juujuu,” my ass - but he continued blithely on. She lifted her gaze skyward for a moment in exasperation. “That’s what I offered to do!” He flung himself to his feet again, but she only sighed and stood, picking up the pack and moving to stand over him as he toppled onto his back. “Maybe I’ll want ‘somma dat’ when you look less like a piece of raw, muddy steak,” she offered, managing to keep her voice level as she looked at him strangely. Something was definitely wrong. Since when did Tain want to fly? He got dizzy walking up stairs, for God’s sake! She had to get him home. Surely the other medics there could help him. Unless it was an attempt at humor? Holly shook her head, slinging the pack strap over one shoulder so it hung on her opposite hip. You could never tell with him. “Come on, then.” Reaching down, she grasped his hands, braced herself, and hauled him to his feet. Before he could faceplant again, she shifted, turned, and spread a wing so he stood behind it, by her now-exposed side. The leather and chain harness she frequently wore was in place, providing handholds above her shoulders, knee braces on her sides, and footholds near her flanks. It put the rider in a forward position, nearly lying against her back, for greater security and balance. She waited patiently for him to figure it out, considering what she was about to do. There was every possibility that once they left the ground, he would freak out, or even faint. She shrugged faintly to herself. Even if he did fall, she was confident in her ability to catch him. He stopped fidgeting then, and before he could change his mind, she crouched deep, then bounded into the rain-cloaked sky. ooc; UP UP AND AWAY words; 370

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

MAYBE LIFE DIDN'T WANT THIS PART OF ME_Tarrik
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The smooth leather felt new under his hands, and it took him a moment to realize she'd picked him up and helped him onto her back. He was losing time again, something he wasn't entirely sure he liked. The soft bump of the pick ends of his axes against his calves was reassuring in it's familiarity, at least. "How'm I supposed to fly this?" he wondered out loud as he tried to make sense of the odd harness. He could ride horses fine, but it wasn't like he'd ever needed tack in the dome, he was pretty sure.

As he figured out the knee and foot braces he was once again struck by the impression he was forgetting something beyond the general range of blankness that was presently swamping out most of his mind, something imminently important. He couldn't remember. He had flashes of the fight, being smashed into the trees and ground a time or ten, but before that was like grasping at smoke with a fishnet. "It's okay," he mumbled to himself, "she wouldn't have forgot, yeah.." But still doubt twisted in his stomach. Where had this feeling been minutes before, he wondered uselessly as Holly moved and crouched beneath him, and then she leapt forward and up, and the worries were shed from his mind like the rainwater.

At first he was in very real danger of falling off as he slid left on the water-slick leather, but he managed to grab the front of the harness and haul himself back to center as broad wings flared past him in heavy beats, obscuring his vision. In his haste to re-balance he just about fell off again to the right before getting his toe back in the brace, and suddenly he was steady. At least as steady as he could be, in his condition, which wasn't all that impressive. Holly banked right and suddenly he got a good look at the trees, tens of yards below them, and he couldn't help but gape. "This is amazing!" he shouted over the wind and rain, and leaned perilously far out to try and see more. He'd never flown before, he realized with abrupt certainty, and he decided immediately that he loved it. A gale of wind rocked them upward and he shouted in wordless enthusiasm, he had no idea where the hell they were going, but he sure liked how they were getting there.

In his mind, the flight was over far too quickly. Holly landed gently as she could, but it did little for him, exhausted as he was, and he tumbled to the ground with a yowl of pain. Possessed of some of his senses he rolled over and got up to his forearms and knees, dimly aware that blood was seeping into the back of his shirt again. Good thing it was a red shirt, he thought. "We should do thatta gan, " he slurred as he fought his way to a kneeling position and looked around. "...later." Wood siding, buildings. Houses, maybe? He wasn't sure. Maybe somewhere would have a fire though, he hoped, somewhere along the ride he'd begun to shiver violently, though the rain that fell on him was still very warm.

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ooc; that will be $10 for the adoption, and he still needs a rabies shot u.u

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] By her standards, the flight was rather sedate, excepting the first few moments, as she sideslipped all over the place, trying to keep centered under his weight. Still, his delight pleased her. It worried her, too. Did head trauma rework phobias? She didn’t think so, but she was no doctor. Maybe it had something to do with blood loss, so he wasn’t thinking clearly? Her ears flattened, a griffin’s version of a grimace. The sooner she got him to the medics, the happier she’d be. Unfortunately, the warehouses where not arranged with massive wingspans in mind. Holly coasted in low above the rooftops, then turned abruptly so the length of her wings was parallel to an alley below. Backwinging hard, the motion cramped in the tight space, she pulled her hindquarters underneath her, back legs stretching for the ground. Despite her best efforts, the landing jolted her passenger a bit too much, and he rolled over her shoulder. She winced in sympathy, panting from the exertion as she folding her wings. “Sorry.” As he managed to haul himself into a somewhat upright position, she snorted. “That was nothing. Sometime I’ll take you to the desert, and show you what flying is really like.” She slid into her human form, and helped him to his feet, taking note of his shivering. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Taking his hand, his skin cold against her own, she led him into the nearest warehouse, guiding him easily around boxes and crates, despite the dim interior. Reaching the dark corner that housed the trapdoor, she hauled up on the latch, revealing a ladder extending into darkness, but for the faint gleam of torchlight at the bottom. Holly looked from Tain to the ladder and back again. “This is going to be interesting,” she muttered. Then she sighed. “Not spoiled for choice, though. I’ll go first, so maybe I can stop you from falling on your head.” She swung into the opening with ease of practice, and scrambled down the ladder. It opened into a tunnel, and a torch burned with a low, wavering light in its makeshift bracket on one wall. Feet solidly on the ground, she looked up. “Nice and steady,” she called. “Don’t rush.” Contrary to her expectations, 200 pounds of Graywall did not plummet from above to squash her flat. When he stood beside her, shaky but successful, she took his hand again, giving a reassuring squeeze. “That’s the longest one, at least. It only gets easier from here.” She grabbed the rope that hung down the tunnel they’d just descended, and gave it a yank, closing the trapdoor behind them. Then she led the way deeper into the sewers. Two ladders later, Holly stood waiting at the bottom of the third and final one, gray gaze trained upward, to where her medic descended, his feet only a few rungs above her head. “You’re almost th-” His grip slipped, and he flailed briefly before he fell, likely tired from the distance they’d already covered. She didn’t even have time to swear. She darted back a few steps, and her only thought was, this is going to hurt. It did. He slammed into her, knocking her flat on her back. Her head cracked against the concrete floor, sending her ears ringing, but she didn’t black out. Which was kind of unfortunate, depending on how you looked at it. She groaned, and after a moment carefully lifted her head. She had taken the brunt of the impact, as she’d intended. While she would certainly walk away with bruises, if Tain had cracked his head, he might not have walked away at all. At least he hadn’t fallen far. And he’d rolled somewhat, so the whole of his weight wasn’t crushing her. “The things I do for you,” she muttered, wriggling out from under him and clambering to her feet. “We’ll get the other medics to take care of you, and then you can take care of this bump on my head,” she informed him drily, helping him up. ooc; TSK TSK, ETCH, DROPPING GRAYWALLS ON MY CHARS AGAIN D8 words; 682

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[Tarrik Rosdahl]

Turned out wet metal was slippery. Who knew? Everything stung, but he was pretty sure he ought to get his sorry ass off of Holly before she finished him off. With a flick, or something. Maybe a poke. Maybe with two minutes of patience, at this rate. At least she seemed more competent at moving his body about than he was, judging by the way she was pulling him to his feet shortly. "Uh. Sorry. Thanks. ......sorryagain." His smoothness was going to be legendary, clearly.

"Holly... yehsure they aren't just gonna, I dunno, put me downnn at this.. point? I'd put me down, man, this sucks." He did not want to ever, ever wake up until he was fully healed, once he fell asleep. He was one hundred percent sure of that, the pain... the pain was going to be intolerable. But what choice did he have? So he limped down the dark tunnels behind Holly, pitifully hoping each turn would be the last before they reached the medics. Somehow, he resisted the urge to whine the entire way. In that he only whined most of the way.

"Mm'dizzy," he drawled, shoulder bouncing off the rough wall, "and... tired. Can I sleep when we get there? Naw' like I gotta be awake for this, right?" When he looked up her hand was on an archway in a manner that suggested it lead to where they were supposed to be going, and this would have been more of a positive if he legs didn't choose then to give out. He landed on his knees, pawing at the wall for support like a drunk man on a ship, and tried his damnedest not to throw up. Unlike his attempt to be silent, this venture actually succeeded, though only mostly because his stomach was empty in the first place. Adrenaline and being too stupid to know when to stop could only get him so far, it seemed. "Five bloody meters come on!" The pep-talk helped, and he staggered back to his feet and continued forward.

Alarming sounds greeted him once he reached the doorway. A clamor of voices, some hushed, some loud, all tense, rushed, and exhausted. He couldn't see much, most of the people were gathered around someone on a raised stone cot, but the floor beneath their feet ran red. "Who.." but Holly was no longer next to him when he looked, and he felt startlingly alone amongst the faces he couldn't recognize. Confused, he slid to the floor and leaned gingerly back against the wall. A couple of the medics shot him worried looks, pitying too, which scared him. Unable to meet their eyes for fear of questions he wouldn't know how to answer, his eyes fell down, to the person he could suddenly see between their legs; the source of the blood. The man laying there was a wreck, worse than he was, if that were possible. He'd been stripped naked, and the healing process had clearly been underway for some time. Livid red scars stood out on his too-pale skin, though the vast majority lay open and raw. It was the mess of pink hair that sparked something in the back of his mind. "....pink, pink... I know him," he babbled to no one in particular, fighting to stay calm. Was this his friend?! He felt important. Was he really going to sit here, oblivious, as his friend died?

"Who is he?" he asked, and when his question went unanswered, he shouted it. "WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!" Silence followed as everyone paused, and eyes fell back on him. He cringed away, gaze flicking from one to the next. They were looking at him like he was out of his mind, like he ought to know. Like they couldn't understand how he was sitting over there, while they fought to keep the man on the table alive. He couldn't understand either.

[Holly]

[bg=000000][atrb=width,500,true][atrb=border,0,true] She kept a worried eye on Tain during the trek along the tunnel. I should have just left him inside the entrance, and brought someone to come and get him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Clearly, moving around was making him worse. The words “you’ll be fine” hovered on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them. It had been years since she’d blatantly reassured someone, and old habits were hard to break. That didn’t stop her from walking close beside him, offering whatever physical support she could. It was only when they reached the medics’ station that she pulled ahead in her eagerness to let them know they had a patient. That became obvious as a mistake as Tain toppled and fell to his knees, but Holly was oblivious, frozen in the doorway. Desperation was thick enough to taste as the medics worked furiously on a battered form that she could barely recognize... She shoved past them, needing to see him clearly, needing conformation. “Oh, Ackerman,” she whispered. “What did you do?” And then she was being shoved roughly away, although the eyes that glanced at her held sympathy. She backed out of the turbulence, only to hear Tain’s distraught question. She turned toward him, and then in the pause following his shout, was at his side. “That’s Py Ackerman,” she soothed, though her heart was pounding. She pulled in a deep breath, let it out. “Listen to me, Graywall,” she commanded. “I know it’s confusing - you’ve hit your head, and you have some memory loss. But things will start to come back, okay? You’ve just got to relax. I’m going to take care of you, while they take care of Py.” A hand drifted to the first aid kit slung over her shoulder, resting on her hip. It was a start. “Sit tight, I’ll be back in a just a second.” After giving his hand a light squeeze, she darted out of the room, down the tunnel to the main room, if it could be called such. Here, unlike the deserted tunnels, people walked back and forth, or lazed on their beds. Taking another deep breath, Holly channeled her inner Maddox in preparation of bossing. “You,” she declared. “Clean water, clean rags, and some good food, at my bed, now.” The omega stared at her, startled, until she curled a lip back to expose a canine. The she moved, and quickly. A tenderfoot, who seemingly had the sense to know when Holly was in I’m-going-to-deal-with-shit mode, was looking at her alertly. “Get a small fire going,” she told the boy shortly, and he dashed away. Scanning the nearby Carna - most of whom were looking at her, watching the drama - she found someone who suited her needs. “Ross! Lend a hand?” The bear of a man rolled to his feet from where he’d been playing cards, and lumbered over to her. “Watcha need?” Holly quirked a humorless smile at him. “Your muscle.” Moments later, she popped back into the medics’ area and pointed at Tain. “Him.” Ross obligingly picked the other man up in a bridal-carry as if he weighed no more than a toddler. Holly was going to tease Tain mercilessly about that once he was back up to par. The word “Princess” would be used. With a last glance at Py and the medics surrounding him, all of whom were ignoring them, she left the room. Ross followed her as she slipped through the central area to the secluded corner of the sleeping cavern where her bed lay. An efficient motion stripped off the blankets, then she gestured, and Ross set Tain gently on the mattress. “Thanks.” He nodded and left, as she knelt beside Tain, quickly putting a hand on his shoulder before he could topple over. Thankfully, the supplies she’d demanded were already there, and a small fire crackled on the concrete. “You can lie down in a just a minute, I promise. I just need you to drink some water first, and let me get your shirt off.” A cup had been left with the food - she dipped it in the large pot of water, then held it to his lips. “Drink,” she ordered. She made him finish that, and then another cupful. “Alright. Just the shirt, then you can lie down.” The tenderfoot, bless him, had also left a metal rack to set over the fire. She set the water on to heat, and then eyed his wet, filthy clothes and shrugged. Pulling her knife out from where it was sheathed at her lower back, she snagged the hem and sliced easily through the fabric. He might whine, but hey, payback’s a bitch. She hadn’t forgotten the incident with the dress. ooc; longpost is long -dies- words; 815

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