Swing Low | Zephyr [C]

[Ira Baranov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 600px; background-image:url(http://i43.tinypic.com/35k7dro.jpg)] The air was sharp in his lungs as he drew in a shallow breath, trying to push the pain from his mind. The cold hurt his bones, made them ache and it made walking twice as hard than it usually was. As it was, he moved much slower and each step sent a jolt of pain through his good leg. But he knew that he had to make this mission on his own and didn't feel like being the cripple who bothered the Hunters to go with him to find a needle in a haystack. He was headed to the Nakoma lands to find a garden he'd spotted a few months back in one of the abandoned homes, long overgrown. But he'd made a couple successful harvests, and he knew that there might be some good finds there. Even in the dead of winter there were a few plants that he'd be able to collect and put to future use in his fields, when the frosts were over. So he limped steadily along, avoiding the thicker snowdrifts and stopping every now and again to rest, much to the chagrin of his company--Pebble. The horse he'd taken in on his farm that had turned out to be a Retro much to Ira's surprise. She was large for a Vanner, but the filly always had a spring in her step. Ira grinned and watched her prance ahead of him to investigate something or other, only to circle back around and take up her place beside him again. It was a good thing--every now and again he had to lean against her for support when the pain got too intense. They'd been walking for hours already, having left at dawn and the sun had almost reached noon high. He could tell Pebble was getting anxious, and if she'd had a bit she would've been champing at it. It was good though, they'd picked up a lot of promising roots and seeds and a few good bits of scrap metal to give to Redd later on. He'd stored it in the baskets he'd rigged to drape over Pebble's back, fixed into place with a leather strap. They were light, as Ira was always concerned about her carrying heavy things, even if she was a nearly full grown horse. It was still strange at times to deliberate between her two forms, but he still saw a little girl when he looked at the horse, and felt protective of her. "We're almost--" he started, but was cut off when stepped on a small ice patch and slid forward on his bad leg, nearly wiping out completely. He smiled when he felt Pebble's muzzle at his back, steadying him. "Spasibo," thank you, he grunted in Russian and steadied himself, patting her neck. "I was going to say we are almost there, just a few more minutes," he said and continued, but his limp was noticeably heavier. It was difficult to remember which house it was, especially since everything was covered in snow. But he soon found the garden he remembered, a small walled in alcove that was pretty well sheltered from the wind and weather. "Stay close, don't wander." He said to Pebble before going to work, drawing out his sickle blade and slowly kneeling to the ground and rooting around in the dirt for what he wanted. OOC| badddd starter post I'm sorry D: IDK WHY IT TURNED OUT SO LONG

[Pebble]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 750px; background-image:url(http://i40.tinypic.com/1z4ecd1.png)] It was nice to get off of the farm every now and again. Pebble trotted excitedly ahead of Ira, stretching out her wings every now and again. She was finally used to the unnatural additions, and was even starting to like them. They made her different from the other horses, and though she was more fond of keeping all four hooves on the ground, she was beginning to enjoy flying, too. Pebble turned when she saw that Ira had fallen a bit behind, and held back to walk beside him again. The horse kept her eyes on him, her ears pinned back with worry. Why couldn’t she just carry him on her back? She felt so terrible that his leg hurt him, but Ira didn’t like to ride around on her. So she did her best to keep close, despite wanting to gallop ahead and roll in the snow. When Ira slipped, Pebble was glad that she had come back to him in time. She lunged forward and caught him, using her head to push him back to his feet. “Careful, Mr. Ira!” Pebble begged, nickering softly and walking so close now that she nearly pressed against him. She wanted to be there in case the slip had made it harder for him to walk. When they finally reached the enclosed garden, Pebble watched Ira head in through the small door, and she waited on the other side of the wall. She had never been over here before, but the little brick houses reminded her of back home, and the little town that she passed through whenever the humans took the horses to shows. For a moment, Pebble felt like she might see someone she knew, and her ears perked up when she saw a figure moving in the shadow of another house. “Papa? Puddle?” She asked, raising her long tail and trotting towards them. As she drew closer, she realized she was horribly mistaken. Two strangers stepped out from behind the other house, one holding a bat, and the other pulling a length of rope from his satchel. “Well look at this! A perfectly good horse just ours for the taking! Look Clyde, it comes with baskets, too! Haha, them anthro abominations don’t deserve no horse like this!” The other man grinned and fashioned the rope into a lasso, and Pebble let out a terrified whinny. “Get it, Clyde!” The man demanded, raising his bat to poke Pebble towards Clyde. “Leave me alone!” She screeched, rearing up and spreading her wings, sending her baskets and blankets crashing to the ground. They looked shock for a moment, either see a horse with wings, or to hear the horse they were trying to capture talking to them, but it was all explained when Pebble shifted, hoping she could get away faster as a skinny little human. “Don’t let ‘er get away! Girl or not, we could always use us a flyin horse! Maybe the Carna’ll even give us a pretty prize for a thing like her!” Clyde nodded, agreeing with his friend, and tossed the lasso after the girl. Pebble screeched as the rope caught her around the ankle, tripping her so she slammed into the ground. “Ira! Mister Ira, help me!” She cried, unable to shift now that she was bound by the rope. Clyde tried to pick her up, but Pebble kicked and swung her fists and spat at him, doing anything in her power to try and get away from him. “Oi, just knock her out, would ya?!” The other ordered, and Clyde sighed, before firmly wrapping his arms around Pebble, picking her up, and head butting the girl. Pebble fell limp in his arms, and he tossed her over his shoulder. “Don’t gotta be so bossy, Wallace,” Clyde grumbled. “Now quick, get the baskets.” ooc: I LIKE CLYDE AND WALLACE

[Ira Baranov]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 600px; background-image:url(http://i43.tinypic.com/35k7dro.jpg)] It had only been a few minutes, but his knees were already starting to ache from kneeling at his work. He felt like such an old man since his accident, his body riddled with aches and pains and protesting almost every movement. He was only twenty five, for god-sake, he shouldn't be falling apart like this. He pushed on through the stiffness of his joints, determined to the green life he was looking for. He knew it had to be here, the place didn't look to have been touched since he'd found it; so he kept digging, rooting around in the soil. He fell into a sort of trance; the feel of the soil between his fingers had always comforted him, lulled him into a sense of safety and well being. The smell of the earth made him think of home and he was caught up in a swirl of memories. Consequently it was a few moments before he realized how quiet it'd gotten, and he couldn't hear Pebble moving outside. He stopped what he was doing and looked over his shoulder, calling out to her. "Pebble?" When he didn't get an answer, he struggled to get to his feet, using the tip of his sickle as some support to push himself up. He'd just made it to the door when he heard Pebble's sharp whinny and the vague shouting of two men. Ira's heart hammered in his chest as he charged forward out the door as fast as his legs would carry him. He saw them, the two men who'd cornered Pebble. Her blanket and baskets were on the ground, and she had shifted back. All he could see was her crawling on the ground away from them, calling for his help. "PEBBLE!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with rage as he lurched forward into a run, heavy boots thudding on the snow-laced cobblestone. He was too late, though, and saw the man grab her up and slam his head into hers. He saw her body go limp in the man's arm's and he felt a hoarse yell splitting from his chest. "Don't touch her!" It had all happened in a matter of moments, almost too fast for him to make a plan. The other man was coming at him with a baseball bat, strolling amiably as if he wasn't a threat. "Lookit what we got here, Wallace! A gimp and his horse!" he said with a cackle, tapping the end of bat into his other hand. "How touching. Just kill the guy and let's get the hell outta here, Clyde." Ira drew to a stop, bringing his blade up and holding it level with Clyde's chest, as he was only a few feet away. "Let her go, you bastards," he said, his voice hoarse, but unwavering in its command. "Or what, cripple? You gonna limp over here and make us?" Clyde scoffed with a cold laugh, though the smile on his face faded in an instant as Ira reached to his belt and pulled the his skinning knife from its sheath, and dashed forward with surprising speed and easily closed the short distance between them. He saw Clyde's bat swinging down, and managed to hook his sickle blade around it and swing it to the side, blocking the blow. At the same moment he slashed his other blade across the man's chest, managing to slice through his clothing. But Clyde was quick on his feet and had leaped backwards, twisting away from him. His bat clattered to the ground and Ira kicked it away before advancing upon the unarmed Rogue. He was silent, but the rage that broiled in his eyes rolled off him in waves. He limped after Clyde, pushing himself into a run as the man lengthened the gap between them. But Clyde was too quick and had disappeared down an alley way. Ira didn't bother with him and kept after the other man, who had started carrying Pebble off. He was running as fast as he could push himself, and was gaining on Wallace and Pebble when something slammed into him from the side--Clyde. Ira toppled to the ground and Clyde with him, scrabbling to get his knives away from him. His sickle blade clattered to the ground, out of reach, and Clyde's hands were wrapped around his wrist, slamming his arm into the ground, trying to knock the knife free. Ira grunted and swung his free arm into the side of Clyde's head and managed to loosen his grip. He shoved Clyde off and managed to roll him over so Ira had him pinned. He hesitated for a brief moment before flipping his knife around and slamming it into Clyde's head. He'd never stabbed someone, and he wasn't about to start today But he hit him again, and a second time until he saw bright blood splatter from Clyde's movement slowed. Ira gave him one last blow and staggered to his feet, but his bad leg gave out from under him. He hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from his lungs, stars shooting in his eyes. He coughed, trying to catch his breath and he rose up half way, scrabbling to find his knife when a shadow cast over him. He felt someone grip his collar and shove him roughly back to the ground. He brought his hands up to block his face but felt only the sharp stab of pain as his own knife sank into his chest. He recognized the hilt as it stuck out from between his ribs. Blood soaked through his shirt as Clyde yanked out the knife and drove it in again, sinking it deeper and trying to twist the handle, seeking out Ira's heart. OOC| I STOLE WALLACE AND CLYDE

[Zephyr Woodwind]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 615px; background-image:url(http://i39.tinypic.com/bheogx.jpg)] Zephyr rode along the District Streets, her friend and Outrider Paxton riding beside her as they took their horses out on patrol. She was grateful to finally have a horse of her own again. She’d found Cheyenne out in the wild areas of the Menagerie, and slowly had formed a bond with the mare until she had trusted Zephyr enough to ride her. They were close as any horse and girl could be now, and the anthro gave the mustang a gentle pat on the neck with her free hand. “Good girl, Cheyenne,” Zephyr told her, and the horse nickered happily. Her other hand held her bow, as it always did while she was on patrol. The Nakoma could never be too careful. They had been having unusually active patrols lately, with a band of Rogues causing trouble on the Fulsi border. “No sign of the rogues so far-“ Zephyr began, when like clockwork, she heard a terrified screech from a few blocks ahead, followed by an outbreak of more screaming and shouting. She turned to Pax and nodded, before nudging Cheyenne’s sides, urging her into a full gallop. When they arrived at the source of all the chaos, it took her a moment to take in what was happening. Two men were fighting on the ground, and one man was attempting to flee with a girl flung over his shoulder. Zephyr felt a chill run down her spine when she noticed a barely familiar scent, from the man who seemed to be losing the fight on the ground. A closer look confirmed her suspicions, and her ears pinned back in terror. Ira. “Pax, quick! Get the girl before he gets away!” She ordered, now that it was all-too-obvious that the girl was his horse retro friend, Pebble. Zephyr quickly snatched an arrow from the saddlebag she’d strapped to Cheyenne and loaded her bow, loosing an arrow that sunk into Clyde’s back. The rogue roared in pain and staggered to his feet. Zephyr could tell he was obviously wounded and slightly confused, noting the blood that poured from a gash on his head. Good, she thought, glad that Ira had gotten some good blows in before… Her eyes flickered to him and she felt her chest tighten when she saw the knife hilt sticking out of his chest, and his shirt soaked through with blood. She didn’t know why she felt so strongly about the Fulsi farmer, but she let her fear for him fuel her rage. She hopped off of Cheyenne and nocked another arrow, drawing back the bow string. Clyde grinned at her, as if he didn’t believe she would take a kill shot. “So yer the freak who runs this show, huh? Whatchya gonna do, girlie?” He asked with a smug smile. She couldn’t tell if he was playing brave in the face of defeat, or if the huge man was just barely phased by the arrow sticking out of his back. “This,” She hissed, releasing the string. She watched as the arrow soared through the air and stuck in Clyde’s throat. He tried to gasp, but all that came out was a gurgle, and he fell to his knees as blood leaked from his lips. Zephyr was beside him in a moment, staring down at him unfeelingly. She had never done something like this… deliberately delayed an enemy’s death. Normally she would aim for the eye or chest, somewhere they’d die quicker. But this one wasn’t going to get such a treatment. Clyde feebly tried to raise a hand to keep her away from him, but she shoved it aside and grasped the arrow shaft. Zephyr paused a moment and watched as his face melted from smug confidence to pleading terror. When she couldn’t look at him any longer, she yanked the arrow from his throat and was showered with a spray of blood. Zephyr tossed it aside and left him to his fate, rushing over to Ira’s side. “Ira? Ira, can you hear me?” She asked, gently cupping the man’s face with one hand so he could look at her. “You’re going to be alright, we’re going to get you back to the Nakoma, alright?” Her eyes fell to the knife, which she knew she couldn’t move until they had him back with the medics. She could heal him some, but this place wasn't safe enough to stay for long, and his wounds were too severe to fix on her own. It didn’t look good, but she knew that the rogue had accidentally spared his vital organs, unaware that his heart was still beating in the other side of his chest.“Let me just try and stop the bleeding,” She told him, slipping off her jacket and pressing it to his first knife wound. “There now, hold it tight,” Zephyr instructed, lifting his hand and placing it on the fabric. Once that was taken care of, she whistled to her horse, and Cheyenne quickly trotted to their side. She couldn’t move him alone, and she desperately looked around for any side of Paxton. “Pax, hurry!”

[Pax Ford]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 497px; height: 710px; background-image:url(http://i75.photobucket.com/albums/i319/sketchedesigns/PAAXTONTABLE.png)] The rhythmic plod of Briar's hooves on the cobblestone streets was calming, and her steady stride helped to ease the tension in his muscles that always crept up on him when he went on patrol. It was part of being blind, he supposed--his body was almost always tense and hyper-aware to make up for the lack of vision. It didn't help that he had been slightly on edge since the report of increased Rogue activity along the Nakoma-Fulsi border. Zephyr's presence helped to ease his tension, though; she was perhaps the only other person he trusted as much as he trusted himself. The sounds of battle reached him at the same moment as they had Zephyr and he urged Briar into a gallop alongside Zephyr and Cheyenne. They reached the scene in a few moments, though in instances like these Paxton relied heavily on Zephyr to break down the situations. He sensed the two men fighting, and the one running off with something slung over his shoulder, but he couldn't make out what; Zephyr's order told him what that thing was--a girl. He nodded to Zephyr before spurring Briar forward, skirting around the two men struggling on the street. Briar shied from the scuffle but Pax calmed her easily and steered her on, kicking her into a full gallop again to catch up with the fleeing Rogue, pulling out the knife concealed in the hidden sheath strapped over his shoulder. Paxton didn't know who the little girl was, but the very thought of her being kidnapped and taken who know's where with these strange men incensed him. All he could picture was his late daughter, shrieking and crying as the Keeper's dragged her away from him. He wouldn't let it happen to this little girl, Fulsi or not. "Hey! Stop running!" He shouted when he got within earshot of the Rogue, but the man didn't even bother to look back. He just kept running, and Pax grunted in frustration. We'll do it the hard way then, he thought to himself. It was only a few moments later when Briar overtook him and he pulled her to a stop a few yards in front of him, vaulting easily off her back and launching into a full sprint. The Rogue hardly had time to think before Pax was on him, ramming his blade full into the rogue's gut, his other arm reaching around to hold him in place. He sank the blade in once, twice, and a third time before he left the knife in the man's gut and grabbed the girl as he fell. She was a tiny little thing, so light in his arms. He slung her over his shoulder as gently as he could, careful not to move her too much lest he further whatever injuries she had, before turning to the rogue. He was moaning on the ground in pain, trying to get the knife out of his stomach. Pax leaned down and yanked the knife from his body, spat on him, and left him to die in a growing puddle of blood. He whistled for Briar, who trotted dutifully up to him and gently laid the girl on the quarter-horse's back, vaulting easily up behind her. He heard Zephyr's shout and cussed under his breath before kicking Briar into motion once again. He reached them in a few minutes and slid off Briar carefully, making sure the girl was still secure on her back before kneeling next to Zephyr and the man sprawled on the ground next to her; he reeked of the Fulsi. She had her hands pressed to his chest, directly above his heart. "Zephyr, we gotta leave him. He's not gonna make it with a wound like that," he said. "The girl doesn't seem too hurt, but we gotta get outta here." He looked up at her, more out of habit than anything, but didn't get a response other than a low growl. He sighed, shaking his head. "Fine. But you gonna be the one to deal with the fallout from wastin' good supplies on a good for nothin' Fulsi." Paxton grunted in reply. "Get up on your horse, and I'll lift him up in front of ya," he said, and watched as she mounted Cheyenne and led the mustang closer. Paxton moved as slow as he could and helped the Fulsi man to his feet. He was barely conscious and leaned heavily against Paxton. The man had to be about 200 pounds or so, but the Keeper's had done something when he'd come out an anthro and Pax had little trouble lifting the man onto the horse. "Now wrap your arm around his middle to keep 'im steady, and hope for the best." He said, slapping Cheyenne on the rump to get her moving. He got up onto Briar again and followed suit, though he lifted the girl so she was sitting sideways in front of him, resting against his chest. He kept an arm wrapped gently around her to keep her in place, in case she woke up and panicked. She made a few soft noises, asking for a Mr. Ira. "You're safe, honey, don't worry. You'll see Mr. Ira soon." He promised, though in his gut he knew it wasn't true. ooc-- waaaaaaat

[Zephyr Woodwind]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 500px; height: 615px; background-image:url(http://i39.tinypic.com/bheogx.jpg)] Zephyr was grateful for Pax’s help, even if she’d needed to growl at him to get it. She knew it was selfish to use her tribe’s supplies on him, but she wanted him to live more than anything. Supplies could be replaced, but Ira couldn’t be. He was a genuinely good man, she believed that with all of her heart, and Fulsi or not, she wasn’t going to let him die on her watch. Zephyr slung her bow over her back to free her hands as Paxton helped lift Ira onto the horse. She pulled his leg up over Cheyenne’s back and helped him sit up as well as he was going to, steadying him with an arm around his waist. “Just hang in there, Ira,” She begged him, as Cheyenne took off at full speed. Zephyr held onto her mane and clung to Ira for dear life. She finally breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the junkyard. “Healers, quick! To me!” Zephyr commanded, and a group of Anthros met them as Cheyenne slowed to a walk and finally stopped. They all worked together to carry Ira down from the horse, and Zephyr noticed some of them giving her strange, and possibly disapproving, looks. “Just save him.” ooc: end thread 8'D