{open} No envy; No fear

[Elijah Levy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 498px; height:686px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/1zntll5.png)] It wasn’t like Elijah to skulk around, ok... well maybe it was; a little. Oddly, however, on this occasion he wasn’t intentionally loitering. It just so happened he was having a quick wash of two of his shirts in the 'laundry'- well, if one could call it a laundry; he rubbed a scrubbing brush over various grime stains. Pulling the garment free of the water to study it, he glanced fleetingly over to his right where he spotted one of the others returning from one of their gathering expeditions. Water dribbled tantalizingly down to his elbows and winked in the false light before the drips repelled spectacularly from his skin aided by a fitful breeze of undetermined origin; and plummeted. The rich warm hues of his eyes narrowed substantially to seek some sort of vain solace from the light that glared off the surface of the vessel of water. It glinted maliciously, threatening to rid him of his eyesight and replace it with dots that danced tauntingly- which it succeeded in doing, causing him to blink lethargically. Finally, he swung his attention back to the flannel shirt suspended between his hands; methodically counting the buttons out loud under his breath. Satisfied they were all there; he hopped to his feet and twisted the garment to wring out the excess water. Clean shirts would literally be amazing, and whilst he had a chance to find more... realistically he couldn't be bothered; he was pretty fond of the two he was washing. So fond of them, that he surreptitiously removed the one he was wearing and slipped the wet one on in one fluid action. The clammy fabric against his skin was a little weird; but he was sure it would take no time to dry. The hairs along the tops of his arms rose; swiftly followed by the skin which puckered into tiny pimples. Ok, bad idea, he was sure he’d get a stiff back, or a cold, or something- but he’d deal with that when it happened. Stooping ever so slightly, he scooped up his bag, the bar of soap and jacket and crammed them under his arm to secure them whilst he made his way back towards where dinner was being served. Stewed plum tomatoes, handmade bread and rabbit. Someone had clearly been out on a hunt earlier, or had done a trade with someone who had. He dropped his belongings down next to Dylan, and scooped up the dog's bowl in one feline hand motion, before joining the queue. He waited patiently behind a dark haired lady he'd never seen before, and her two children, children- who didn't look at all like her. He squinted in an attempt to find similarities but came up short each time. Why was he so surprised? Realistically, why was he even bothering to try to FIND any similarities. It wasn't like families were able to keep together here, there were bound to be kids who had lost their parents, and parents... who had lost their kids. Heck, he'd lost people. Everyone he knew had lost someone, if not everyone they had ever known. It was their survival that lingered, even beyond the memories of their loved ones. Eli’s expression dropped from the normal 'cheery chipmunk' smile he was known for, and his mind strayed spectacularly to places he'd thought he'd managed to bury. It wasn't until the woman dishing out the dinner slopped the tomatoes into his bowl and uttered a soft 'hello' that he sluggishly came too. He offered a watery, somewhat unsure smile, one that neglected to stretch to light up the full extent of his features, and it prompted a stroke to the back of his hand as he passed her. Eli swallowed and muttered a soft thank you before picking up a roll, gathering up Dylan's dinner, and making off at that slow, characteristic lope towards his sleeping quarters. Dylan barely moved, he was characteristically a lazy shifter who rarely strayed from his shift form. He lifted his head and opened his jaws in that deep, contagious terrier yawn before stretching, getting up, stomp-circling around and then flopping down on his other side with his back facing Elijah- "What, I bring you food and you ignore me?" The dog sighed, more huffed really, and Elijah glowered down at the white ball of fuzz, water droplets barely keeping their grip on the hem of his shirt, they soaked through the back pockets of his jeans. He dropped to his knees with all of the grace and airs of a baby giraffe, and dropped Dyl's bowl down next to him before rolling onto his hip and then his seat bones. He stuffed his bread roll in his mouth to hold it, and balanced his plate on a ledge above his head, reaching blindly to slide it to security away from his dinner partner, knowing full well the irish-man-come-terrier's passion for tomato. Strange. With that, he slid his shirt from his back and reached over to hang it over the back of a chair. He then grabbed hold of one of his blankets and draped it loosely over his shoulders, taking hold of the bread roll in his mouth he took a bite, and dropped the rest of it into Dyl's bowl, reaching up onto the ledge to grab a hold of his own meager supper. He retrieved it, shuffled back to rest his back up against the wall, and propped the bowl atop his kneecaps. He speared a sliver of rabbit, dunked it in the tomato, and slipped it between his lips, chewing peacefully whilst watching the various people in the queue disappear off to their respective cubby-holes. He wriggled, somewhat uncomfortable in his seat and he frowned, placing his fork back to the porcelain, he reached behind to tug whatever it was, digging into his back. His fingers found purchase, and he managed to pry the item free with considerable effort, and once he'd freed it he brought it into his view to scrutinize the offending item. He sighed, that preoccupied and somewhat anguished sigh of a man who really thought he could escape what was reeling through his mind. It was a beat up, frayed converse shoe. Something innocuous to most, he turned it over in his hand a couple of times before dropping it to the side and grabbing his plate with more pointed, if a little false, interest.

[Riley Salvatici]

THE PAST AND THE CHASE

Gritty sand and scraggly brush passed quickly beneath her feet as Riley sped over the desert scrubland, her shadow steadily lengthening beside her. Night came quickly in the desert, and she was running out of time. Although she considered shifting, she discarded the idea. Her form was designed for quick bursts, not distance, and with its new... modifications, she wasn’t sure of her capabilities. It was best to stick with what she knew, so she could pace herself appropriately. The time spent with the Keepers had taken some of her tone, but she had worked hard to get back up to par, and she figured she might make it back to the wilderness before moonset.

When she loped back into camp as the last of the sunlight was fading, it was in her human form, breathing hard but not out of breath. The delta was the first person of rank she saw, overseeing the dinner operations, so she headed straight for him. He saw her coming, and stepped away from the others to meet her, eyes sharp. Riley explained the situation as succinctly as she could, and it was only a moment before he stepped away, gesturing for her to wait. He slipped into a train car, likely to confer with someone, and returned after a few beats.

Nodding to her, he jerked his thumb at a train car a short distance down the track. “You’re good to go. Take Elijah with you.”

Long years of practice kept her face calm, and free of irritation. She didn’t know Levy personally, but she knew him in the sense that she knew all her ringmates, and... “He won’t be able to keep up.”

Tori frowned at her, and his accent became more pronounced, as it often did when he was annoyed. “His shift will be useful. Figure it out.” That was true enough, but still. He stared her down until she shrugged, dipped her head, and turned to go. The woman handing out food clearly knew when someone was coming and going, and handed her a roll with a layer of meat sandwiched inside as she passed by. Riley nodded her thanks, and devoured the snack in a few efficient bites, although she wasn’t particularly hungry at the moment. After her body settled from it’s run-run-run state, she would be. Swallowing the last mouthful, she stuck her head inside the train car Tori had indicated.

“Levy, we’ve got a job, get moving.” She paused, looking him over. “How’s your long distance running?” He was tall and athletic, but people tended to either be runners, or not. Shaking her head to dispel the thought for the moment, she continued, “We’ll be back tomorrow at the earliest, so pack warm.” The desert was remarkably comfortable during the day, even in Keeper-engineered winter, but at night it was just as bitterly cold as the rest of the dome.

When he looked at least mostly ready, Riley turned and set off at an easy jog, resettling her backpack over her shoulders. “I found a group of shifters out past the foothills, and they’re up to something. Planning a raid, maybe. Rogues, it looks like, not another ring. They’re moving into the marsh to the west of the lake, and I can’t keep a close enough eye on them by myself.” Gesturing to their left, she indicated the moon, which was rising above the mountains. “I’d like to get there before the moon sets, so we’re not blundering around the wetlands in the dark.” That said, she moved from a jog into a lope, watching the other scout from the corner of her eye to see how he kept the pace.

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ooc: Didn't know if he's a runner or not. XD If not, he can shift and Riley can carry him. u.u

[Elijah Levy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 498px; height:686px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/1zntll5.png)] The rest of the bread roll served to soak up the meat juices that swirled in the bottom of his plate with the remainder of the tomato juice. Simple pleasure, really. Something that Eli really missed was pastries and well crafted, thought out sweets. His mother had always been a miraculous baker, creating incredibly intricate desserts with all the grace and airs of a professional. The roll that was currently cloying into a saliva and flour ball in his mouth was nothing in comparison. It filled a hole, though which was its intended purpose. It was one of those things that went down the throat with difficulty and sat at the bottom of the stomach like a lead weight. It was food, something to sustain the endless energy that Eli fostered, so it’d be safe to say... he’d be hungry again within a couple of hours. Hunger was something he could ignore, being poked repeatedly in the thigh by an over sexed Irish man, the cigarette hanging precariously from his lower lip aglow and dropping ash all over his worn cinder jeans was becoming an irritation that Eli just couldn’t shirk. "Rabbit was overdone... " The Irish drawl that Dylan often allowed to roll between his lips was jarring. It always was, despite Eli being possibly one of the more, patient individuals, it was a trait that irked him. The silky arrogance, the laid back nonchalance and disregard with which the hunter tended to offer his thoughts into a conversation. The soft tones of Elijah’s eyes took a northward roll as he placed his plate and fork to the side, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist as he did so- "Says the guy who swallows the damned things whole..." He muttered uncharacteristically gruffly. Eli’s voice congealed with starch thickened saliva. He swallowed and coughed almost simultaneously, sputtering softly as he thumped his fist against his sternum. Settling into a steady rhythm of breathing, he stretched his arms above his head. His arms fell slowly, flaring his chest as he shuffled into a more comfortable back rest against the wall of the train car. Dylan quirked a brow suggestively and his tongue peeked and ran over the slow-burn Cheshire grin that warped his mouth. The cigarette perched between his fingers, smouldering gently, casting a warm orange glow over chapped knuckles. The man’s mismatched eyes darted to the doorway, and his hand languidly lifted the filter end to his lips as the blonde woman appeared around the door. "Oop... your ten o’clock s’here, Levy... " He chuckled, silver smoke rolling between his lips in rhythmical puffs that mirrored the sarcastic laugh. He wriggled his brows playfully, shifting in his sprawled out position ever so slightly. Elijah heaved a sigh, somewhat sluggishly lifting his gaze from the ground, dark curls slipping into his view before he swiped his line of sight clear with fingers that raked his forelock into disarray- "Shut it Brennan..." Eli growled, knocking his hand most likely with intention as he scrambled to get to his feet. Dylan fumbled, flailed most unceremoniously and the cigarette fell onto his bare chest, singeing chest hair and scalding skin with a fizzle, and that unpleasant, pungent smell of burning hair that made Eli wretch inwardly. "Shi- FU—LEVY YOU DOUCHE!" Dylan squawked with all the displeasure of a crow being plucked alive. He frantically slapped at his chest, grabbed at the beaker beside him, and sluiced a half full glass of water over ever increasing burn holes in the dusty fabric of his make-shift bed. Despite his distaste at seeing a fellow scout, and his obvious reluctance to leave his bed seeing as he hadn’t seen it for the best part of a week, by this point, Eli had wordlessly nodded at Riley. He’d silently bent down to pick up his travel bag and had moved to the door, with it slung over his shoulder. "I can keep up with you..." His jaw tensed, his teeth ground tight to their partners as he gave her that somewhat scrutinizing, distrustgul side-long glance. He grazed past her elbow as he slipped through the whisper of a gap she had left between her and the doorframe- "If that’s what you’re asking." He tilted his head, taking a step into the void he dropped nimbly from the height of the platform, knees bent as he landed lightly at a somewhat lower altitude. He spun on his heal, turning to look at her but to his obvious surprise she’d set off at a jog. Huffing a sigh and rolling his eyes he shrugged his bag higher onto his shoulder before deciding to loop the strap over his head to carry the weight across his torso. He fell into a fluid jog, lagging just enough behind her that she could decide to change direction and he could adapt his pace to follow- "I did East patrol this morning with Dylan... All quiet there." He breathed, glancing to the right of him as the moonlight pierced a hole through the thicket, illuminating a large log over which he hurdled- "I won’t keep you..." He smiled noting the change in pace, he threw in another beat to his own tempo, warming to the burst of cardio with ease. "...And when we get there?" He queried, shoving his bag so it bounced in the small of his back rather than against his hip- "You picked a Pine Marten over something bigger... any reason?" Yes, he had noticed.

[Riley Salvatici]

THE PAST AND THE CHASE

Thankfully, even after the fiasco with his train car companion, and although he clearly wasn’t pleased, he seemed focused and on point. Plus, that was what she was asking, and he had the right answer. Satisfied that he could keep up, Riley stretched her legs out, settling into the pace. Full dark was approaching, but the skies were clear, with moon- and starlight to illuminate the landscape with silver.

She frowned when Eli mentioned the morning patrol, a faint ripple of displeasure, but didn’t comment. Clearly Tori thought he could handle it, and he didn’t seem to be struggling. She’d just have to keep an eye on him throughout the night, in case exhaustion started to drag at him. Hopefully he’d had time for a nap or something earlier.

“When we get there, we need to pick up their trail, and then for you to get close enough to eavesdrop, while I cover you. If,” she amended, “that works for you.” Clearly, she was too accustomed to working with Jonah, she thought wryly. They’d been doing this for so long that they rarely needed to explain their plans, and on the occasions where direction was needed, Riley simply bossed her brother. He could depend on her to pick the best course of action, and she could depend on him to improvise when he needed to, or argue when he saw a flaw in her logic.

“And I didn’t pick you,” she added, around breaths. If she had considered it, she would have gone with a bat shifter. They were as inconspicuous at night as birds where in the day, especially in the marsh, and had excellent hearing. Insects, perhaps the least noticeable of shifts, didn’t make good spies. For the most part, their sight was passable, but they didn’t have much by the way of hearing. They simply didn’t have the physical structures for it. Plus, the winter cold would kill them. “I told Carranzo what I’d found, he told me to take you and go back. I’m not complaining, although” - she flashed a grin at him through the semidarkness - “I may have before I knew you could run. Bigger isn’t better in the marsh, they’d spot me a ways off.”

The night wore on as they headed southeast, the mountains growing steadily closer. They skirted the range, though, encountering snow as they left the desert behind and entered the foothills. Well-worn trails twisted through the trees, packing the snow, which made the going far easier than it would have been. The tree cover helped, but once the forest gave way to marshland, they’d be dealing with large drifts.

When Riley slowed to a walk, the moon was high, and though the exertion had kept her warm, their breath fogged in the cold air. She let her breathing slow as they walked on, scanning the ground in front of them. “There were nine of them, I left them somewhere around here. They were talking about bunking down in the marsh until a couple others could meet up with them, hopefully by tomorrow.”

Now that they were moving at more of a hike than a sprint, looking for the trail, Riley slid her pack off one shoulder and dug around in it, pulling out her jacket and a small cloth sack. The former she put on before returning the pack to its proper place. The latter she opened, and scooped out a handful of dried figs, which she passed to Eli before taking some for herself. She chewed absently as she walked, looking for the distinctive tracks of nine adults headed in the same direction.

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ooc: NEVER FEAR, SHE BROUGHT SNACKS u3u

[Elijah Levy]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 498px; height:686px; background-image:url(http://i46.tinypic.com/1zntll5.png)] A silent nod. Sombre, with as little in the form of eye contact he could offer her. It was simply the only indication that Eli was actually listening to her wittering on about ‘the plan’. His eyes flicked up from where they focussed on his footing, and his lips twitched into a jauntily shrugged half smile that lingered for only a fleeting moment. “...And, I didn’t pick you.” There it fell. Silently, as if swan diving from the edge of a sky-scraper, the smile evaporated. It was delivered with such a degree of nonchalance that had he not been concentrating he’d have tripped over his own feet. Instead it was a wince of a frown that darkened his expression momentarily. It was a frown of consideration that cast a stark, cold shadow over normally warm and gentle features. His jaw hardened. The muscles at his temple flexed. Typical. It would’ve been the point where he’d stopped, very almost recoiled at the thought of carrying on. This man, however, had an issue with giving up. Despite the sting that coursed through his veins, and despite the knot that wound into a tangle at the pit of his stomach accompanied by that nauseating feeling... He kept his pace and focussed on a spot so far in the distance he’d be staring it into forever before even lifting his eyes to the side for fear of giving himself away. That hurt. Eli wasn’t usually one for self deprecation but given ample opportunity he did, on rare occasions, wallow in a sink hole of self-pity. The phrase was delivered around huffed breaths, gushes of air that whistled through airways only to exit in puffs of effort as the burning of oxygen starved muscles made demands that not even the fittest of bodies could fulfill. He had to admit that her stamina was impressive, though he made no move to express anything even bordering interest as he compressed the crack in his confidence that she had only widened by a few simple words. Stoic, until the end. She hadn’t even considered he’d be fitting for the job? But then, why would she? Riley didn’t know him from Adam, or any other ring member for that matter. As far as she was concerned he was a mustelid shifter, he was scruffy and he... lived with an obnoxious over sexed Irish man-come-terrier shifter who spent most of his days with his snout firmly between his own back legs. Not the most glamorous of images by any means. Elijah wasn’t some battle hardened individual. He’d never felt the cold and unforgiving gun metal, or steel blade. He hadn’t asked for any of this, even less to be thrown into active duty as a scout. Skulking around borders, listening in on conversations, he really was the epitome of reluctant agent- though this was something that he very carefully concealed for the sake of his own safety. Blank in expression and his whole persona contracted inwards, he jogged on at the lengthy, well calculated lope that lagged half a step behind the blonde woman’s every step of the way. If he really took the time to think things over; she was always with that thug of a brother of hers and barely took the time to notice anyone else for their usefulness or talent. Their little team of two really did the trick. Why on earth would she ever outsource her help- unless her brother was, quite literally, balls deep in someone, or something else? A little acidic for a thought process? Perhaps it was. However, it had taken his senior officer to literally offer him up like a platter of nachos. To present him without his prior knowledge like some kind of marginally useful piece of technology that may or may not facilitate completion of the mystery mission, for her to even remotely consider the possibility of his use. Absolutely typical. Quite why he was traipsing through the brush on a wing and a prayer was beyond him, but then come to think of it, it was his job. Even though the trust necessary for a good working relationship was currently lacking, he managed to shrug it from his mind and indeed from his body language and conceal it from view. It was as she slowed to a walk that Eli over took her by a couple of steps before reacting and slamming on the breaks. He rubbed the back of his hand under his nose before glancing over his shoulder and continuing at a swift pace beside her. He shrugged his pack into a more comfortable position from where it had spun around his form during their brief stint of jogging. His attention slipped to the ground and he stopped for a few seconds, crouching down to press his hand into one of the footprints in the snow. "Nine of them..." He muttered softly, glancing around the close vicinity as Riley marched off ahead a couple of steps and dropped her bag to the ground. He straightened up and shoved his pack into the small of his back as he paced towards her, holding his hand out for her to deposit the dried fruit into his hand. He slipped one into his mouth absently, offering a soft huff of a thank you. He chewed slowly, carefully analysing the echoing sounds that filtered through the frigid breeze. His attention was snagged, however, by the distant rumble of conversation and the unmistakeable cracking and popping of wood being devoured by a carefully constructed camp fire. He nudged Riley’s upper arm with his elbow before wriggling and slipping his satchel strap over his head and allowing the bag to drop quietly to the ground. "Noise carries well over the marsh, but sounds like they are at about our three o’clock...?" He whispered, stuffing another fig into his mouth- "Any further instructions before I weasel-it-up?" He offered cheekily in a theatre whisper, his mouth filled with dried fruit which he stowed in one side of his face whilst he grinned at her, quirking a brow for good measure to add to his already mischievously sparked expression.

OOC: LOL... Snacks

[Riley Salvatici]

THE PAST AND THE CHASE

The other scout’s silence didn’t bother her, but the way he was pretending she didn’t exist did. Riley watched him out of the corner of her eye as they ran, as he stared fixedly ahead. After a few beats, she dismissed it with a mental shrug. She didn’t know what his problem was, but she wasn’t his therapist, and she trusted Tori to give her someone who could get the job done despite any internal crisis. Besides, he seemed to regain some of his good humor once they reached the forest that fringed the marsh. Perhaps dried figs are the Menagerie version of Snickers.

Dude, you act like a Virus when you’re hungry. Here, have some figs.

Focus, Riles.

“At about a hundred yards, I think,” she murmured in agreement. Riley mimicked him, and quirked a brow, then gave his shoulder - which was conveniently close, since they were whispering - a light, playful shove. “I’m not your boss, Levy. Hang on a second, though.” Bow and quiver were deftly unstrapped from her pack and set aside, then she paused for a beat to examine the trees. Finding one that suited her purpose, she shifted and grabbed their bags’ straps in her jaws. Rearing up, she dug her claws into the bark and pulled herself up, climbing up a few yards to carefully hook the straps over one of the lowest branches. If they had to run, she would do so shifted, and this way their supplies wouldn’t be left around for just anyone to find. Satisfied, she dropped back to the ground on near silent paws and shifted back to human to pick up her bow.

Slinging the quiver over one shoulder, she flexed her fingers against the cold and set an arrow to the string, then gestured with the bow. “After you.”

Slinking forward with bow half drawn, Riley wound her way closer to the camp, rolling her footsteps to avoid crunching the snow. The trees began to abruptly fall away at the edge of the marsh, leaving instead snow covered hillocks and frozen puddles, with the tips of dead reeds and grass poking out of the white expanse. The flicker of firelight came from a small rise twenty yards out, and from here vague human shapes were visible. She could hear the voices and the occasional word, but did not get close enough to make out the conversation. Instead she stayed hidden in the cover provided by last few strands of trees, one eye on her ringmate and the other on the group of rogues, ready to intervene if they spotted him.

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ooc: DUDE BEAT ME WHEN I MAKE YOU WAIT THIS LONG D8