C A T A C L Y S M [Tain]

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

A gust of wind broke through the bend of the cliff they were currently scaling, and Py adjusted his jacket collar tighter about his neck, glancing up at the sky with a look of extreme trepidation. The clouds were dark and grey, fit to burst, and all signs seemed to point that they would soon be on the receiving end of another fresh bout of snow. His fellow hunters would be most unimpressed by this, to be sure, considering the blizzard from before had only recently subsided. It was cold though; not cold enough for the frost’s bite to do much harm since it was only early winter, but still enough to turn Py’s cheeks pink and coat the ground in thin layers of ice. 

Despite this, Py had been willing enough to volunteer himself for one of the small scouting patrols being sent out that day, a quiet hand raised among many eager ones. With the Carna’s sudden and unexpected change in leadership, patrols were more frequent and terrain that hadn’t been considered patrol-priority was suddenly being scouted out. With his experience and backhand knowledge of the cliffs from prior hunts, Py was deemed sound enough to send out on a team of two on what would be a dubious trek. From what the hunter could gather, Jocelyn would make a firm but fair leader in this ragtag ring he called a home. She had a steady way about her that would lend stability to them all. However, he nearly snarled a protest of frustration when the one person he’d been avoiding in all of Carna managed to become his partner. His plus one, he supposed. Tain. That, he thought, was not the least bit fair. So, being the little shit that he was, Py hadn’t bothered to tell him where exactly they were scouting, having figured he could check with their alpha if he truly wanted to know. 

For the most part, he tried his best to ignore him, as he’d been doing for the last few weeks. He exchanged clipped words and short sentences if he had to, but made no effort to engage in any sort of conversation. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to ignore him, though. Half of him wanted to shake him, ask him, ‘what the HELL, man?’, talk it out, the other half wanted to snarl at him in anger, clip his jaw with a fist, and a small part of him – a very small part that he had to bury down whenever he felt it begin to rise painfully in his chest, was on the verge of some sort of breakdown. Ignoring Tain was his only way of coping with that, because if he made eye contact with him, if he held that pale gaze for a fraction of a second longer than he had to, the tide would rise up and swallow him whole. 

The revelations in the cages had left him feeling torn and vulnerable, and the worst part was that he had no one to turn to for advice or reassurance that everything would be okay. Max and Vince were concerned for him, knew that something was off, but the extent of his explanation to them thus far had been ‘boyfriend troubles’. They’d encouraged him to try and make peace with Tain, but anytime he considered it, the complicated nature of the situation always flooded back into his thoughts, making him balk. Knowing he’d been lied to for the better part of a year was a real mood killer. 

Still, as he heard Tain’s footfalls behind him, and the scattered sounds of pebbles being loosened and kicked, he couldn’t help but feel the familiar pangs of affection for him that always seemed to crop up at the most inconvenient times. His feelings for him in that regards hadn’t changed a lick, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise. Presently, he was reminded of one of their first hunting trips, and how lousy of a hunter Tain had been because he kept scaring off prey with careless footsteps. 

And it provoked Py enough that he actually decided to warn the other man as he reached the top of a ledge. Glancing back over his shoulder, he called, “Mind the edge, yeah? Stay on the inside and watch your footing, the ground’s shit. Don’t be breaking an ankle out here. Won't do you any good.” It was probably the most he’d said to him in the past five days combined. The hunter was, as it were, not quite heeding his own advice, preferring to keep to the outer edges to track the flow of the river as they headed against its direction. They were scouting along the Torrentem Cliffs, following a loose trail into the mountain pass that was home to the Lawaii, the river below a low rumbling mess of currents that eventually fed into the bay. The further along they got, the worse the terrain seemed to get, and as afternoon slipped by and snow began to blow again, Py began to wonder if his luck had finally run out.






Tain Rosdahl

[Tain Rosdahl]

Tain had nearly fallen out of his seat to volunteer for the scouting trip, considering it was an open call for any competent rank. He was going absolutely cabin-fever mad in the tunnels, and kept managing to draw work that stayed in and around the dark damp dank DEPRESSING sewers. He needed daylight, damn it. He was across the room, eating breakfast with Vince when he was picked, he didn't even know who his partner was until Py's sulking mug showed up. So he was upset to be on patrol with him and only him, too baaaad. Last time they'd been out together was on a hunt weeks ago when Tain feel in a big freakin hole, and Py probably said like.. three words to him the whole time. At least Olly had been along, and Tain got on something famous with him. So when Py wouldn't quit on the bitchface, Tain gave the satisfyingly snotty response to go switch with Trev if it was so bad. Vince had kicked him and he'd snorted and choked, and by the time he could breathe enough to laugh himself sick Py was gone. Whatever.

Stupid Py. Tain still basically wanted to marry the guy or something, even though he was thick. SO THICK. And stubborn, by gods. It had been so long since Tain came out about the whole Fulsi scandal that he wasn't even nervous anymore, he was just exasperated. Weren't big emotional reveals supposed to get you the object of your affections!? It made him want to bang his head on the wall. Yeah, he felt freer with it off his chest, but it also drove a massive wedge between the two of them. And it sucked, it sucked so bad. Py wasn't just someone he was infatuated with, though he totally was that too. They were friends, GOOD ones, and their senses of humor, everything had worked so well! They talked about stupid stuff and future stuff and hunting stuff and their pasts while they traded parts of their rations.. or they used to, anyways. Now Tain ate with other friends, and after several attempts to keep it down, handed off the meat portions to others. He had a good idea why he was allergic to the stuff, the synth he'd been taking before the dome had messed with his body something awful. Being vegetarian had been so much better when he could get Pad Thai take out.

But now here he was wandering along after his Post-Conflict Romantic Love Interest, and he was feeling pretty alright. Sure Py wasn't talking to him, but the first winds of winter were brisk and not bad. A hard storm earlier in the week had left ice underfoot, but that was slowly melting as well. He'd always enjoyed the sound of running water, and after the quiet echoes of the tunnels all week, the bubble of the river below was a godsend. Most of the time he couldn't see it, staying carefully away from the edge as he was least he start to get queasy. Holly liked to tell people he got dizzy on a stepladder, which wasn't quite fair. Small heights were alright, and rationally, he wasn't so bad with the big ones either. Rational, hah. That's why it's called a phobia. And Py kept going near the edge, but Tain wasn't about to rile him by trying to warn him away.

It turned out he didn't need to; Py himself did the warning. Tain gave him an owlish, deadpan look back. Like there was a force on this earth that could get Tain that close to the edge of a fifty-meter plunge. Still, hey! Py had talked TO him instead of just at him, and that lit up Tain's day more than the peek of sun they'd felt hours ago. He followed the humored look with a smile, and took another step in away from the cliff.

"In case I faint," he chirped, hands landing into the pockets of his old jacket. They were sewn in with rabbit fur, as was the hood and insides of the coat. After the last winter, he'd spent time this summer and fall adjusting his clothes, though today wasn't cold enough for him to need the hood up. In the hopes that Py might actually have a conversation, Tain stepped out a bit to catch up some more, minding the long sheets of ice that sweated underfoot. "So how've you taken to Jocelyn? I mean she seems to really have her shit together, considering both..." he trailed off, frowning as he thought of Crash. He'd liked the man and his sense of humor. Gently, he steered away from that topic. "You gonna put in your name for any of the ranks? Everyone's talking about it, fights might bust out soon if Jocelyn doesn't pick anyone." And that could get.. ugly. Tain remembered the last time Py had squared off with Seija, and had his ass handed back to him. And then some freak monster thing had cut Py to peices, and shit, the Keepers had saved him. If he hadn't been in those cages next to Py, where would he be now?! Would he still have found a safe place to tell him? A time? Maybe he'd needed to be stripped down naked and half-drowned to realize what had to be done.

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

Py's eyes narrowed as he glanced back in the direction he was headed, footsteps still careful as the tread of his boots sunk into the freshly powdered snow. "If you faint, what, y'think I'm gonna play knight, princess?" The jab was a light one, by all things considered, and something akin to what he might have said back when they were still talking - the jokes, the teasing, the way things used to be. As it happened, they were talking now, it seemed. Big mistake on Py's end, he never should have opened his damn mouth. I'm so stupid, Py thought sourly. He couldn't ignore him now, though; he could try, but he knew how persistent Tain could be, and now that Py had started the conversation, it wasn't bound to stop quite as quickly as he might've hoped. The hunter growled under his breath, a cloud of mist drifting into the air as he did. Damn that man. 

His attention was drawn back to him again when he heard him draw up next to him, and he soon became uncomfortably aware of just how close Tain was to him, and just how little room Py had left to scoot over. Forced to walk side-by-side with him, he had no choice but to pay attention to what he had to say. He kept his gaze downcast, though, to see if he could catch sight of anything suspicious like new tracks. The snow was still fresh, looked untouched, but taking precautions was necessary on such missions.

When Tain questioned him on what he thought about their newly elected leader, Py gave a non-committal shrug. In his opinion, she was exactly what they needed during this time to pull them all together into a useful group. He worried, however, that her stern manner combined with the lack of violence to back it up - as far as he had seen - could lead to some malcontent, perhaps some rebellion among the ring from the more chaotic members. Manic had always ruled with a bloody fist, though...often it was carried out through commands. Py supposed the way things played out also depended on who she chose as her right hand personnel, unless she was going to be taking a more active role. "She seems confident enough to handle us all," he mused, rubbing a gloved hand against his cheek thoughtfully as his annoyance at the other man was temporarily suspended. "And I think she's got a stable head on her shoulders, which is good, that's something we've been needing. It should work out alright."

Py nearly choked on a bark of laughter at Tain's next question despite himself, and he quickly shook his head, running a hand through his hair, which had grown longer again. "Nah, I'm not much for politics anymore. Gave me a nasty headache last time." Trying to overthrow Seija had not been the smartest move he'd ever made, and it had turned her against him ever since. He got a lot of the shitty hunting shifts, even now, months later. Never forgive, never forget, he supposed. He bit his lip, swallowed his pride and his goddamn feelings, then asked, "What about you? Any interest?" The thought amused him, even now, after all they'd been through. Tain had started at the bottom of the barrel as a wonder Whelp, then a tenderfoot, and now finally a medic, something he'd shown prowess and skill in that he'd never shown as, say, a hunter. As mentioned, Py was well aware that Tain was persistent in getting what he wanted, and he had some fast friends here, some solid support. He could probably try for it, if he was inclined...

If they knew what Py knew, that support would trickle. That much was a guarantee. Tain was lucky; the secret would never get out if the hunter could help it. Py was in too deep, they were both in too deep and like it or not, as much as he was not yet willing to admit it, he still loved the bastard.

Damn the man twice, three times. Maybe even five times, for all the trouble he'd put Py through.

A heavy sigh followed, before Py stopped short, a frown tugging his mouth down into an expression that was at once curious and thoughtful. He bent down, then dropped to one knee, the snow seeping into the frayed denim of his jeans as he carefully examined the ground in front of him. A small set of tracks with a seemingly random start made him grimace, and he glanced over his shoulder to ensure he hadn't missed anything back there before poking at these tracks with a finger to show him. "Fresh, and no beginning to them, see? Looks like a fox," The wind was blowing to their disadvantage, and he wrinkled his nose, the only scent he could detect being Tain's. "S'probably a shifter, not wild. Could have a second shift, something with wings, then it could land wherever it wanted and carry on from there..." he trailed off, jerking his chin up to squint into the distance, into the tree range beyond, but trying to detect any movement was made difficult as the snow had started to slant and blow hard, cold and wet. Py got to his feet, dusted snow off of him. "Keep an eye out. We'll include it in our reports, though."

They continued on, the chill to the wind making Py tuck his chin into his jacket more than once. It wasn't completely ideal clothing for this type of weather, the leather jacket being more suitable for the fall, but it was all he'd scrounged up and no amount of bartering had won him a winter coat. At least it wasn't biting yet, and Py thanked his body often for being a literal furnace. His bear shift had translated some perks over to his human shift, that being that he retained his body heat fairly well. Py glanced over at the other man and was pleased to see that his lessons and effort had not gone entirely to waste; rabbit skins put to good use, sewed into his jacket.

The conversation had died down, but Py found that after it had ceased...he missed it. He'd been so focused in ignoring him that he hadn't quite realized how much he craved speaking with him, even about random things. Sure, he was still unhappy with him, he was allowed to be but he supposed being civil was a step in the right direction. Staying mad at him forever wouldn't do either of them much good, and it was draining on Py, making him tired and grumpy and focusing on the negativity of things. Perhaps he'd been taking the wrong approach. "So...what've you been up to? Your shoulder and all...you still on med duty or are they cutting you slack?"

[Tain Rosdahl]

Privately, Tain was pretty sure Py would play the knight to his princess in distress any day, it was just a part of his bear-man nature. He might complain and whine about it, sure, but all the same. And Tain considered Py's opinion on Jocelyn as he goose-stepped over a large upward bite of stone that he was NOT about to go around to the side, where it hugged up close to the ravine, and nodded agreement. The Carna were a rowdy and proud bunch, you'd lose them if you didn't hold on tight enough and build yourself a solid foundation.

He'd just opened his mouth to make a joke about trying for Seija's place himself when Py stopped them up, and Tain had to lean to the left to see what he was looking at. Creepy tracks, yay. Tain's good humor died down just a little, though he wasn't too worried. The two of them made an extremely intimidating pair of kodiak bear and hound, nevermind Py's veritable.. whatever shift. Tain hadn't seen it himself, which was super obnoxious because come ON, but he'd heard rumors that the thing looked like a freakin dragon. Tarrik, his dragon-geek brother, would be so jealous.

"Unless they're some kind of rambo-assassin in human form, we're totally bigger than a foxhawk." He shrugged at Py, equally unperturbed. Rogues and the like came and went, and so long as they weren't raiding Carna supplies or starting fights, Tain didn't pay them a huge deal of concern. By nature they stayed out of the way and left the Carna patrols alone, even the two-man scouting parties. Probably had something to do with the veritable hell that rained down on anyone that picked a fight with the Carna without an army at their back.

When Py asked after him a few minutes later, Tain didn't even pretend to hide his smile.

"Slack is not the word I'd use," he said with a laugh, "I mean yeah no heavy lifting for a week, but then I had to do all the stitches and small stuff and I've stuck my thumb like ten times at this point cause no one will hold still!" His tone was despairing, but good-natured. No one wanted stitches, they all wanted the weird magic-heal whatever that Tain and a couple others could do. A lot of the time Tain agreed, but there was a limit to his pool of energy for it; the times he'd maxed it out he'd been shaken awake from a near-coma two days later. If he had energy to spare Tain shared it, but he'd started holding a good bit back for the emergencies that rolled in. Never mind how badly some healing jobs could go if tissues that didn't belong together were touching... sometimes the stitches were just plan safer.

"I'm just glad to be out here, even if it's snowing. Scotland was a lot colder, Spain nooot so much. Why do you think they even bother with the winter in here? It's a bio-dome, it could be perfect weather all the time, no problem. ..Whatever, they suck. What about you though? Eating all the nuts and berries you can find to get fat and sleep till spring?" Tain flashed him a quick, teasing grin as he was forced back toward the edge by a impossibly thick growth of young aspen trees. His shoes had had amazing tread once, but they'd been retreaded several times in the dome with leather and hide and the like. In anticipation of the icy hike he'd pushed some small metal studs through leather and tied them around his shoes, giving him traction on the balls of his feet. Even so, he was wary as he slunk across a stretch of open rock, left hand on the small trees for security.

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

The hunter let out an amused huff when Tain began to ramble about how he’d had to resort to stitching people up while his shoulder healed – like he hadn’t already been doing that! Py had been subjected to the man’s penchant for a needle and thread many times before; it was never a pleasant experience but Tain was skilled and had a quick, deft hand, so the wounds always healed up nicely enough. There had been several occasions, though, where Tain had been the cause of the very same injuries he stubbornly set out to fix.

Py rubbed at a puckered scar on his left hand absently as he recalled one such instance with a fond sort of annoyance. They had been training, with knives this time instead of fists. Tain had no love of weapons, but Py was determined to instill at least some offensive tactics into him, lest he come face to face with someone who did have a love for sharp pointy things. Who better to show him than the man who’d once forced him to cut his throat? And so they practiced, and practiced, the afternoon sun bathing them in heat, the workout making them drip sweat. Tain picked up the attack moves quickly, his focus keen, and Py had felt a strange sort of pride for it…right up until Tain made a sudden lunge and Py was forced to throw his hand up to block the knife’s point. Instead of hitting him in the stomach, it went straight through his hand. The pride was instantly quelled by pain, because that had hurt like a sonnabitch. He’d marched over to the medic’s quarters shortly thereafter, Tain following in his bloody wake, and showed them his still-knife-skewered-hand with a frustrated look, complaining loudly in a ‘look what the little shit did now’ sort of way. Tain’s cheeky-ass grin hadn’t helped matters much, and the fact that they’d suggested he’d be the one to heal it had been almost insulting at the time. But, mess aside, his hand still worked fine, and he supposed that was all that mattered.

“You poor thing. Maybe you should get someone to kiss it better,” Py mocked, though he offered a quirk of a smile, a roll of his eyes, his tone light. “Don’t look at me, though.” He continued more thoughtfully. “Can you blame them? Needles suck, and think about it, most of them have had Keepers digging around in their veins a time or two with the other sort of needles. It’s enough to make anyone flinch.” Py certainly wasn’t on a friendly basis with them –not since the last time he’d been subjected to the experimental testing. Those had been very big needles, and the experiment itself had not gone well. Even the resulting shift they’d created – some sort of mishmash creature that resembled a dragon - was difficult for him to adjust to, and the process of shifting into it had been painful the first few times he’d tried. He’d grown more used to it, but it always left a residual ache in his human body afterwards. He could only imagine what the others in the ring had gone through – most shied away from that particular topic altogether, for understandable reasons.

Py glanced over at Tain as he continued, snorting at his words and trailing after him as he let him take the lead. His boots were not quite so equipped as Tain’s, though adequate if he was careful. They were the same shoes he’d worn when hiking with his uncle – and the same ones he’d been captured in, of course. “Because they like to make things as difficult as possible for us! If it was summer all the time they’d have to give us all like…bathing suits. And bikinis. And really,” Py kicked at a small pile of snow as he leaned his hand on the same tree Tain had touched, voice conspiratorial, ”Can you imagine how scarred the Wall’s kids would be if they saw one of us walking around in a speedo? Think of the scandal. It’d be all over the front page news. And then the riots, think of those,” he held up his hands in front of them and spread them out, mimicking a title, “’SHIFTER ACTIVISTS SHOW OFF BOOTY IN DISPLAY OF REBELLIOUS SUPPORT’. It’d get out of control, man.” He was only joking, of course, and let out a bark of laughter. “If I slept ‘til spring, Jocelyn would probably have my hide and make me her new bearskin rug.”

“And don’t talk to me about food, you hypocrite – you’ve lost weight, I can see it, everyone can,” he tilted his jaw up, shooting him a stubborn look as he rejoined him once the ledge widened again. “You been eating more than blueberries, y’blueberry? Fish? Eggs? …y’know. Protein.” Py reached over and poked him in the ribs. “If y’get to be as skinny as when you got to Carna, I’m throwing you in a crockpot and serving you as mystery stew, I swear. It’s winter, man, you better be heeding your own advice.” He shook his head in exasperation. Being vegetarian in the Menagerie was certainly a diet to be tested – there was no shortage of meat, but finding fresh fruits and vegetables was always a challenge. Since he’d stopped sharing his rations with him, Py wasn’t surprised Tain had shed a few pounds.

[Tain Rosdahl]

"I do NOT want to see everyone in speedos, Py, I don't care that we're all whipped into shape that is just.... no." He followed it with a choked sound of disgust, because really, that was all the idea deserved. Py was bent in some weird ways. Speedos, agh. And him as a rug? Really? "A rug?!" he threw back, "HELL no, lady's got some class! She'd wear you like a cape and look all regal. ONLY if Seija didn't call dibs on your hide first, hah!"

He squirreled forward away from Py's poke and tossed him a leer, tongue stuck out between bared teeth. "I told you I can't eat that junk, I've been trying. Eggs seem to work out alright, but it's not like we're really running a chicken coop here. .....why aren't we running a chicken coop? How about we trap some of those game birds and breed them or something, you know? That's how people got advanced and stuff, they moved from hunting to husbandry."

He paused, then carefully gauged the distance between them as too long for Py to lunge and get him easily, then threw more snark at him. "Guess that's why you're a Neanderthal and I'm husband material, ehh?!" A sharp bark of laughter followed as he fell out of sight, landing on four little paws and leaping forward and scooting quick as a missile into the amply wide yawn of a hollow log that covered a length of the path. Dusty and smelling strongly of pine he came out the other end like a furry cannonball and made for the cover of a second growth of aspen, laughing like a maniac the whole way.

So what if Py hadn't been up for his shenanigans in forever!? He'd been spending a lot of time with Holly, and the two had discovered the absolute madness of a game that was trying to catch a cranked up Tain in piles of leaves, or him trying to wrestle a massive griffin to the ground whilst yelling only the very worst of old movie quotes. James Bond ones worked best, because he could fake the English accent well and she was easier to manhandle while laughing. And how he'd MISSED baiting Py, an actual bear! Stereotypes worked for a reason, and getting Py worked up was Tain's favorite right after lemon-lime candycanes.

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

“I was kidding!” Py wailed in protest as he tromped after him. “Nobody wants to see anybody in a speedo!” Obviously Tain had been away from him too long – he needed to get used to Py’s queer sense of humor again. He shot him a cross look as he commented that Py would be more useful as clothing than décor, and the hunter shook his head in protest. “Cloak, not cape! Capes are for superheroes and villains, you dork, cloaks are majestic and shit. Queenly. …hey!”

How did he put up with this one, honestly? Py made a face back at him as he tried to catch him half-heartedly with one hand, and having to quickstep to keep his balance when the man danced just out of reach. Damn him. “I don’t know, maybe we should. We’ll make it your new project since you suggested it. You go out at six in the ‘morn and fetch those eggs like a real man, yeah? Then be a dear, and cook breakfast for us all while you’re up anyways.” His grin quickly fell, however, to be replaced with a look of complete and utter objection. “Am not! ..husband material?! Maybe in the real world, but here husbands still need to know how to hunt, you little…oi, get back here!” Predictably, he lunged forwards, and fell nearly face-first in the snow, then scrambled up, and the chase was on.

The hairball was fast, he had to admit. When he’d first seen the little pudge of an otter form that Tain had received, Py had thought it was cute. Cute and harmless. He’d been so terribly, terribly wrong. The creature was a menace to society, and as Tain tore through the underbrush Py raced after him, trying not to trip on the roots of the aspen grove that he saw the furry bastard dive through. “ROSDAHL, DAMMIT, COME BACK. TAIN! GET YOUR PUDGY LITTLE OTTER ASS BACK OVER HERE!” The flash of brown fur out of the corner of his eye tipped him off, and he lunged at the otter again, this time managing not to faceplant, but also not having much success either. It was, he thought ludicrously, like that time where Achilles chased Hector around the Trojan walls – because he was currently chasing the little bugger around a tree. Multiple times. Did he ever run out of stamina?! “TAIN C’MON, IF I GET DIZZY AND TRIP AND HIT MY HEAD IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT.” The yelling was toned down, somewhat, by the laughter that crept into his voice, because this was, after all, ridiculous.

[Tain Rosdahl]

People who called Tain an adrenaline junkie had no clue, no idea, no inkling of how on point that phrasing was. He'd been hooked on a synthetic version of it for years; a skydive in a syringe. Needless to say the dome was basically rehab for him if he liked it or not; at least for the synthetic stuff. The real thing though? The kind he got in a chase? Now THAT was something to live for.

The spars with Py had been something of a fix for him, and no matter how hard one of them pushed, the other always shoved back harder. Tain was pretty sure actual border scuffles went down half so intense as they got. In the summer they'd fought in the edge of the surf under and around the docks and piers, and it got ruthless. They started to draw blood on the regular as first Tain, then Py himself improved. One brutal head-smash into a pillar and Tain had show up the next day with his hair shaved off, and proceeded to hammer Py into the sand while he gawked, distracted. It wasn't just lifting weights or working out, they practiced like they were fending off death itself. Tain had leaned up and built out and his reflexes earned a hair-trigger. Further it made him a top contender for medic-at-large, and more often than not he pulled the shifts that wanted a medic or an extra hand along on a hunt or scout. He might not have it in him to kill, but he could put someone down so hard it didn't really matter. His stealth needed work, but whose didn't!?

Well of course there was also the matter that he was an absolute nutcase wrecking ball, personality wise.

"HAAAAAAAH!" he howled as he dove around the tree once more before whipping around so fast he skidded into a tree and shifted in a snap... and Py was greeted with a hundred pounds of snarling dog, hackles raised and teeth shockingly white. He was so not above a good shock surprise, with Py in full hunt-and-catch mode it was perfect timing to kick the table right over. His ears were plastered back, and even on all fours his head was on level with Py's chest. The otter may have been an adorable, pudgy little zoom-machine, but his dog form was as old as he was, and just as harsh and lean.

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

He was intent on catching the little beastie, making low grabs and always managing to be just out of reach of Tain’s sleek, quick form. Py cursed and snarled and laughed and probably would have cried – kidding – if this had gone on much longer. When Py rounded the tree for a fifth time, he’d expected to see a cute tiny face squeaking up at him. What he had not expected was to run nearly headlong into the jaws of an angry, snarling monstrous sized dog. One with very, very sharp teeth, and a very hungry look.

Py came to an abrupt, stumbling halt, mouth going slack in sharp surprise and sudden, instinctive fear that spiked up through his spine. It was the sort of fear that was ancient and instilled, the one that sent a wave of adrenaline coursing through your body. And of course, surprise was an understatement. Py about damn near had a heart attack. “SHIT.” He muttered under his breath. This could get bad, potentially. Tain was...well, Tain, when in his human form but his dog shift was another matter all entirely. While he didn't completely abandon his human mind he definitely ran on the feral, wild instinct more than common sense, as Py had discovered several times when they had used to play chase. Being on your back with the dog standing on top of you was definitely not something he wanted to repeat. Even if Tain's resulting human-form, still half-feral, had given him a certain thrill. The hunter put a hand up defensively, reflexively, then took a step back. “You win, okay? You win. I give. Just…stop looking like you want to eat me, dammit, you caught me. Tables turned. Checkmate.”

He ran his hand through his pink hair with a shaky laugh, head tilting consideringly to one side. “Is this a ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours’ thing? I’ve seen your otter, and…what? You want to see the dragon..thing? Or something? …I mean, I can show you if you want. I guess that's only fair.” He’d mostly kept the shift private, though a few others had seen it, with mixed reactions. Some thought it strange, others thought it awesome, but all agreed that it was not anything found in real life. Py himself thought it was rather neat, and very large, and very...different. He still wasn't used to its lean shape and quick turns, in a way that his bear was not. But he needed to practice more with it, and supposed it was better to practice with friends than alone.

[Tain Rosdahl]

Py's reaction was a lot like dumping gasoline on a small fire. Tain had to wrangle the urge to tackle him to the ground and hold him there until he swore at him enough that he would be fun once freed. Also, he never quite felt like minding Py's stupid recent want for personal space when he was in the dog's skin. But this time he minded his manners, more or less, as Py cried uncle. A moment later and he offered to show Tain his new shift, which was something he was very interested in. In an instant the canine snarl was a human grin, eyeteeth still boldly shown as he leaned a shoulder on the tree, arms comfortably crossed in front of him.

So he tended to look a bit wild whenever he shifted back for a while, so what? It was a good look, he'd checked in a mirror once. It worked with his light eyes.

"You'll show me yours? That doesn't seem fair when we already know yours is bigger," he complained, eyes sparkling with mischief. How much of a dragon could it be!? He'd seen Holly's griffin and that was wild in and of itself. Wrapping his head around the dragon bit was a lot harder. He was a hands-on visual learner, so what? His head tilted to the side to rest a bit on the tree as well, enjoying the warmth in his fingers from being buried against his coat.

"Well c'mon c'mon lets have it! This isn't pay by the hour, Ackerman." He was vicious today in his teasing, but he just couldn't help himself. "And make sure I can actually see! If you jump back to human right away I'm going hound again and chasing you all the way back to the docks." There was the flash of that smile again, the kind that had almost nothing to do with humor and everything to do with the distinct pleasure he got from making Py run for his life. And he hadn't gotten to chase him properly in ages! None of the other hunters were as fun to practice with, or knew his fighting style well enough. With Py it was almost a dance, they way they could move together. He knew Py's uppercut as well as Py knew his backhand, the way Py threw him with his shoulder and the way Tain pinned him down with a knee to the chest. It was exhilarating, and painfully absent from his life for the past month. He felt like a neglected dog following their owner, collar and leash in his mouth. Just run with me, damn it.

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

When Tain’s dog didn’t immediately lunge at him, Py’s shoulders relaxed, the fear draining from him. And when he shifted a split second later back to a human again, the hunter’s guard dropped altogether, though the shit-eating grin the other sported made him stick his tongue out at him. “Bigger in every regard, though at least you admit there’s no competition.” He returned the grin, running both hands through his hair again, then stepping back away from him, boots cracking snow and branches underfoot. “Okay, okay, Rosdahl. Give me a break, it takes some effort,” Py whined, stretching his arms in front of him, flexing his fingers. It was true, though, it did take effort – focus and concentration, rather than instinctive like his bear. He was hoping that would change the more he used it.

The transformation was slower than usual, enough that Tain would be able to see some of the changes. It started in his legs and worked its way up from there, bones melding and reshaping, tissues and tendons tearing and forming anew. It was painful, and he grimaced, a growl in his throat, until the process was complete. In place of his human stood something much, much bigger. He was roughly the size of a large horse, but his body was entirely snake-like. As he ducked his head down towards Tain, the sun glanced off him, revealing his scales to be a rich scarlet, his head adorned with curving horns. The most impressive thing (or the one he was most proud of) was, perhaps, the mane that ran the length of his body, for it was all the colors of fire, and a slight twist of his body or flick of his tail was enough to turn it into what looked like real flame. His eyes were the only thing that remained of his human self, a deep and icy blue. When he opened his mouth, his voice was a deep and guttural snarl, rough-tongued but recognizable shifterspeak. “Well? What do you think?”

Py turned slowly in a circle for him so that Tain could get the full impression, body curving and twisting up and down and around, legs short but sturdy and sharply clawed as they dug into the earth. When he turned back to face him again, he lowered his head down almost level to the ground, and extended his jaws towards him, snapping at him playfully with needle-sharp teeth. “Dragon enough for you?”

[Tain Rosdahl]

Tain mocked his whining the whole while, mouthing along silently and rolling his eyes around. He'd be nicer when Py was less of a drama queen, which he sincerely hoped was never. He cut it out when Py actually started to change though, and watched with a sick fascination. He'd seen the organic flow from human to bear and back with Py a hundred times if he'd seen it once, and this was.. disturbing. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he had the most peculiar urge to sympathy cringe for Py. So caught up in the act of changing that he was, Tain almost didn't realize quite when it finished until all at once, and his eyes jerked up to take in the full image.

He was absorbed in staring and didn't answer Py when he spoke until the latter snapped at him, and Py got a yelp and a slap after his scaled face in response. "Watch it! You look venomous, dammit Py." There wasn't real heat behind the scold, and a beat after it he leaned forward, hands braced on his thighs to get a better look. "It's sick though man... my brother would kill to see this. Or be this, come to think of it. What the hell... it's like the Keepers got hammered and some dude was like... MAN... I'm gonna make a dragon. Aaaand I dunno, maybe they needed raw hamburger to work with." Tain's eyes flicked up to give him a dry look with the end of his sentence, walking around and catching the end of his tail to check out the mane. He may have also given it a tug, but there were some things you had to do in life.

"This is soft, Py, you should braid it." His wolfish smile said volumes, and his fingers moved to pull a section into the beginnings of a loose plait. The overall look was a good one, he had to give the Keepers that. Had been giving the pyro a dragonic form been some kind of inside joke with them? Maybe that or they just had a big jar of monster types and every so often someone pulled one out and had to give it their best shot. The braid finished, and he held up the tail-tip with a beaming smile. "See? It works so well with your rich complexion. Monstrous and soul-eating, but with a side of teeeender."

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

Py jerked his head back as Tain slapped at him, a serpentine tongue flicking out to mock him a moment later. It was possible that what the other man said was true, though. He wasn’t sure what snake the Keepers had chosen to create this monstrosity, but knowing them, it was one that would be able to create some sort of damage – which, he supposed, was useful for him in the long-run. The dragon let out a hiss out breath, a low-rattling sound echoing deep within his chest. When he replied, the words were wrecked and ravaged and broken, but hopefully coherent enough, “They would need to be a little crazy to think up half the things they do. You should introduce my to your brother sometime, though.”

Py raised his head as Tain straightened up, then tossed his neck to one side, following him with his sharp-eyed gaze as he ran his fingers through the mane that ended in a long feathered tail. The tug was met with a half-hearted grunt, but at the mention of braiding, he all but groaned, twisting his body around further to watch him. “I’d braid your hair too if you’d grow it out enough, damn you.” Py waited patiently, letting him play with it as he pleased, until he held up the tail tip to show him the resulting braid. The dragon narrowed his eyes, raising a clawed foot at him pointedly, “Exactly! I’m supposed to be a monster. You’re lucky I don’t have fire to go with this form, or I might be tempted to tenderize you.” It was said in jest, of course, as he stole his tail back from between his fingers and flicked it at him with an arrogant sort of air. If he could smirk, he would’ve.

And then, in a few quick minutes, he had transformed back to a human, rolling his shoulders and neck as the ache from the shifting set in again. He beamed at Tain as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, expression filled with a certain amount of pride. All pain aside, he really did like this new shift; it would definitely take some time to get used to it, but he felt it could be helpful not only for himself but also for defense of the ring. The kids liked it, too. “It’s funny, y’know? Some of the ring kids, they think it’s great. Apparently I make a good water slide. I’ll show you sometime.” Children in the CarnaRing usually had it tough; as they weren’t often contributing members of the society’s more important aspects such as hunting or scouting, many saw them as simply useless mouths to feed. Tensions ran high when rations ran low, and it often seemed like the kids tried to stay under the radar to avoid the ring’s more snarl-ish members. Py was fond of them, though; they were just kids, after all! None of this was their fault, and while they were forced to mature at a faster rate due to the nature of their situation, they still deserved to have at least some fun. So he did what he could, and if that meant he had to pretend to be a makeshift slide, or cart four of them around on his back, or throw them in the water and pretend to be a shark – neglecting the fact that he hated sharks – then so be it.

He took a step or two back as he stretched tight muscles, still grinning at Tain, when his footing suddenly just…disappeared from underneath him. It happened fast. His legs buckled as his shoe hit a patch of ice and he slipped, and he wind-milled his arms a little, trying to right himself, and then he went down altogether. The ledge. The ledge of the cliff was right there! As he tried to get back to his feet he slipped again, and felt himself slide over the edge altogether. He barely had time to shout to Tain, such was his surprise and sudden, intense fear. He’d always imagined what it might be like to fall, all those times peering over the ledge and watching the churning waters of the river below. But nothing he could’ve imagined compared to how he felt then. Py scrambled at the ledge with desperate fingers as he slid, and managed to hook them into a crevice along the ledge, curling them and trying to hold on with all the strength he could muster. Still, his muscle shook, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay like that for long. The top of the ledge where he’d slipped was too slick with ice by far for him to be able to pull himself up completely, and he didn’t want to risk losing his grip in order to test it out. “TAIN,” he yelled, voice hoarse with panic. “TAIN, HELP.”

[Tain Rosdahl]

"I'll introduce you to Tarrik if you both can promise to behave; I'm not sure which of you is more hot-headed. ...plus he's mad that I'm here even after they ousted the old alpha," he drawled with a shrug. "I'd drag HIM here but then we'd need to bring Dalton and Charm too and that's... pretty much most of Fulsi command. Woulda brought him the first time, but you two really would have killed each other back then." It was a situation that gave him a monster headache no matter how he tried to handle it. He couldn't bring Tarrik here, no way. His brother had been in way too many border fights and raids that ended in blood to ever sit easy in Carna as it stood now. Hopefully in the future that would eventually change. Likewise, hauling Py off to Fulsi wasn't really an option worth bringing up. Py loved their ringmates, same as Tain did, but he had none of Tain's few affections for Fulsi.

Besides, there were more amusing ideas to talk about at the moment.

"A water-slide!? I'll believe it when I see it." He was joking mostly, the brats loved Py. More than once he'd helped them chase him all around the campfires in bear form, shrieking and hooting before finally tackling him into the sand. Now that they had a dragon at their disposal? Well they had to have SOME fun in their lives. Py had stolen his tail back and shaken the braid loose, the jerk, so Tain crossed his arms idly to watch him shift back. As cool as the dragon was, he was relieved to see him human again.

Py was trying to shake it out and Tain was glancing over his shoulder back up the trail to check the conditions when he heard the distinct sound of a body hitting ground, and the scrape and scramble of limbs. The cliff. Tain didn't even have time to be afraid before he twisted and lunged after him, moving before Py could even shout for him. He landed on his chest and elbows, hands closing over Py's wrist with the iron strength of adrenaline. He could feel Py's pulse racing, and stared at him for a beat, wild-eyed before his eyes slid past him, down to the river below. And like that, he went white as a sheet and pressed his eyes shut, teeth bared in a snarl like pain as he forced his body to obey while every iota of him wanted to freeze and cower in screaming, crippling fear. The world shrunk to his hands, where he had Py held, to his knees and chest, sprawled on the ice. Carefully, he pulled Py up and forward, barely noticing the effort of his actual physical weight. It was nothing next to the weight of the gorge, yawning wide in his mind's eye, breaking him out in a cold, shivering sweat. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, but he was NOT losing Py because of fear. No way, not if it killed him.

He had Py halfway up when he felt more than heard a crack like bone. His eyes flew open and caught on Py's for a disbelieving second before the entire ice shelf, stretched and fragile from the morning sun, broke free of the rock beneath. It slid forward and shattered out from under them, and the grip on Py's wrist fell away as Tain lost the fight with panic and blacked out.

----

The next thing he knew was a deep, deafening, choking cold. He was being pulled, but held by a crushing weight on his left arm. It wasn't until he opened his eyes that he understood; he was at the bottom of the river, his arm caught between some shifted, sodden deadwood held in place by the press of the river. The same current that had brought them there had dragged him down as well, thrown him against them and trapped him as they moved. It took him a hysterical while to realize he wasn't actually drowning, to remember what the keepers had done to him. Painfully, his lungs could pull oxygen from the water that now flooded them.

But Py. He couldn't breathe underwater, and he'd fallen with him. In a sudden renewal of panic Tain tried to look around, but there was nothing. The bottom of the river was dark and deep, and precious little sunlight shone through meters above. Even if Py wasn't trapped he could be unconscious, drowning, or worse. Tain had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. He threw his back against the logs with a scream of frustration followed by one of pain the tree didn't give. It was worse than drowning, worse than falling. What if Py was already gone, miles away downriver!? Even if was still alive, even if he climbed out there.. how could he ever find Tain now!? He didn't know about the water-breathing, he'd think he drowned, or was swept even further down? Unable to drown, would he slowly die of hypothermia? Starve? He had no idea, and the prospect left him weak, numb.

All around him the river roared, swallowing him alive.

[Py Ackerman]

P Y T H A G O R A S | A C K E R M A N

For half a beat, Py worried that Tain’s fear of heights would hinder any possible rescue effort he might have been able to achieve, but his doubts were quelled a moment later when familiar hands caught his own and held them tight. Py’s muscles had been straining from the effort of holding himself up, and now was no different. Slowly and by inches, though, he felt himself being hauled up, the knees of his jeans scraping against the rough surface of the cliff whenever he lost his foothold. Though the hunter was not religious by nature, he could not help but find himself praying to whatever god might listen that Tain would be able to get him out of this hot mess. As he found purchase with his feet and pushed himself up further, his elbows leaning against the top of the cliff, relief had started to trickle through him, knowing that in a matter of moments he would be safely away from further harm.

That is, of course, until he heard the loud crack, sharp as a bone snapping, that echoed through the air. The fresh wave of fear that coursed through him seemed to freeze time, so that he was forced to take in everything that happened next. He felt the sheet of ice underneath him begin to splinter and break apart, and his mouth dropped open, blue eyes locking with Tain’s grey ones briefly before they both tumbled forward, sliding off the cliff altogether.

He felt Tain’s hand slip free of his wrist, and Py tried to reach out to snatch his hand, arm, anything to keep them together, but it was useless. The other man fell away, and in his own state of very conscious panic, it was difficult to keep track of where he went. Py was freefalling, and rapidly gaining speed as the river below rushed up to meet him. When it did, it was like a punch to the gut; a quick inhale of breath was all he could manage before he hit the water hard and continued to sink below, pulled down by the impact and the strong current. It took him a moment or two, but instinct forced him up towards the surface, towards the glitter of sunlight that broke across the top of the water. When he finally emerged, coughing and spitting up water, pushing his hair out of his face and tossing his head this way and that, eyes searching, Tain was nowhere in sight. Real panic flared, then, and as the river carried him further downstream he shouted his companion’s name, over and over. “TAIN.” It was a struggle to keep above the water, though, the current continuously threatening to pull him back down, and he was forced, after several agonizing minutes, to quit calling for him. Instead, he chose to listen, trying to hear any response over the roar of the rapids, but nothing seemed to come of it.

It was hard to say where his friend might have landed, or if he was even alive at this point…what if he’d landed amidst the rocks that jutted at random throughout the river?! Or had drowned, weighted down by the current? The thought made him dizzy and sick, and he tried not to imagine it, swallowing the taste of bile in his throat as it threatened to rise. He was certain he had heard him splash nearby him when they’d first hit the water, though, and if he’d managed to swim to the surface as Py had, he would either be further downstream, or upstream and floating towards him. He wasn’t able to pinpoint the direction he’d landed, only that he’d heard him, and so he continued to float downstream for a time, hoping to stumble across him, until confusion and despair began to kick in. He wasn’t seeing him. Of course he’d be able to see him if he was anywhere downstream of him, right?!

With nausea settling at the pit of his stomach, he struggled and swam, maneuvering himself towards the nearest boulder until he was able to grab onto it and drag himself up, clinging to the slimy surface with numb hands, barely noticing the shivers that had begun to rack his body as water drops dripped off his hair. Py needed to find him; grievances aside, he couldn’t lose Tain again, not so soon after they’d just begun to patch their rocky relationship. A choking, strangled sound worked its way past his mouth for a moment as he tried to figure out what to do.

Spitting and coughing out water, he glanced around at his surroundings. There was a far bank on the other side that he could reach if he moved carefully over the scattered rocks and boulders that dammed up the part of the river he was in. The land was narrow, and looked slippery, but if he hugged the cliff he'd be able to get upstream without having to swim the whole way there. That was, of course, Tain was still upstream. He'd be taking his chances and there was no indication that he was, but he had to do something right?! Start somewhere? And if he couldn't see him above water, his bear shift was a strong and powerful swimmer...

Py tried to pull himself further up onto the rock and nearly slipped back into the water. Cursing loudly and with much fervor, he pulled himself up again and began to crawl slowly from rock to rock, making sure that his footing was solid before he moved. FInally, after what seemed like an eternity, he reached the bank, and waited there for a moment to let the dizziness settle once more before pushing himself to his feet and picked his way along the shoreline, a hand reaching out to touch the rockwall as he moved. He had to find him, needed to. But he needed a sign, anything, something, even a shoe. A glimmer of hope and a chance to save the one who meant so much to him. That's all he needed.

[Tain Rosdahl]

It wasn't the shivering that worried Tain, it was the dead-weight of the knowledge that once it stopped, and it would soon, that he'd be truly screwed. Trapped at the bottom of a freezing river and all his useless head could think of was the stages of hypothermia. Incredible.

And then another thought bubbled into his head like a dead fish popping up to the surface of a lake; the image of coyotes chewing their own legs off to escape traps. He had a trapped leg. He also had a really, really sharp knife. Seconds later he nearly had a panic attack all over again from thinking about. Screw that, I'm way too attached to that arm. The pun was totally lost on him in his situation, unfortunately. There was also the fact that it would be an absolute shitfest trying to tie off his arm to cut it while underwater, and it was more like a guaranteed overnight delivery of infection instead of a risk, and...

Basically, he was not going 127 Hours on his freakin arm. He had a tattoo and everything planned out for it, and it wouldn't work as nice on his other one cause the Carna mark. So screw it.

What he needed was leverage, or something hard enough to dig at the softish wood of the dead tree. It took him stupidly long for his popsicle mind to realize; the knife could work for more than just cutting bone. No shit moron. That was assuming he didn't drop the stupid thing with his stupid numb fingers. Or could even get it off his belt in the first place.

To his surprise he actually managed both, and only nearly dropped the knife twice before getting it in as secure of a hold as was going to happen. And then he went hackjob on that AWOL firewood, venting his anger and frustration and anxiety into driving the blade in and wrenching hunks of moldering tree loose. If nothing else it was doing a decent job of warming him up a tiny bit, in that the tingly burn of pins and needles everywhere suggested he was no longer entirely numb. It took him a while but he dug out a not insignificant hole to the side of his trapped hand, enough that he thought he could wedge the knife in and use is to pry them apart. Just enough that he could snap the arm out, that's all he needed.

So Tain took an extra bit of care setting up, bracing his knees and toes, setting the knife, and leaning for all he was worth. Distantly he could hear Crash(Gods rest his crazy bastard soul) yelling at him. Five more chin-ups. Now ten more for being such a weenie about the last five. And two more because he said so. He was thankful for every brutal second of the physical training he'd been through in that second, as the trees slowly began to peel apart.

Then, as things do, everything went to shit, starting with one tiny thing; lichen. Old, dead, dissolving lichen that had weathered a thousand rainstorms finally gave way under the tread of Tain's shoe. His foot slipped, and the current hammered him forward with no anchor to stop him. In a second the knife turned in his hand as he lost his leverage, the blade snapped clean in half, and the tree broke his right hand like kindling as it crushed back down.

Tain was not, as it turned out, numb enough to shrug that off. He screamed and screamed and in a madman yank, twisted his right hand free again thanks to the hole he'd already dug. It didn't make a difference, it felt like there was a tractor trailer parked on his left arm, and a pit-bull gnawing on his right hand. Some awful part of his brain, the part people retreat into when they're in too much pain, helpfully reminded him that now that his knife was jammed in there, he couldn't even cut off the other arm if he wanted to.

So he did the logical thing and screamed some more. He was beyond pissed, beyond frustrated and beyond desperate. His brain was so scrambled by the situation that is defaulted to something easy; being mad as hell. Branches crunched and spin away as he stomped them, bark tore his elbow bloody straight through his coat as he hit the trees in a rage. Debris turned the water black around him as he kicked up an enormous mess. It occurred to him that if Py was flying, he'd probably be able to see the mess Tain was making. Screw bears. Screw wingless dragons, and screw this entire freakin day, he thought as he sagged against the trees, strength spent and the water clearing. He'd been here for ages; if Py was still looking, he was probably hunting for a corpse. If they were unlucky, at this rate Py might actually find one.

[Anita Gellard]

sold my soul to a three-piece, and he told me i was holy From her perch in a tall and gnarled cedarwood tree, Ann let out a soft hissing sound that would have been a sigh had she been human. These shapeshifters never seemed to learn to watch their step. It happened all the time up in the mountains, a wrong miscalculation and whoops, down they tumble, head over ass. In fact, the rumors about her flock - that they threw people down into caverns and crevices - was not wholly true. What it boiled down to was that often times scouts were simply not as sure-footed as they thought they were. Pity the fool, by the time they were found they were usually broken to bits and...well, dead. She and two scouts had been casually patrolling the area, checking up on things, seeing the sights and general goings-on. It was the usual trek, considering the cliffs were technically part of the mountains. Though the Lawaii never bothered to venture too far into Carna, she'd spied the two men a fair distance off, and lazily banked to rest up in the grove of trees near them. It was hard not to spot them, really, for together their hair was a display of colorful defiance in a sea of blondes and brunettes and gingers. Pink and blue. She'd seen them both before, in fact, as various ring members were free to travel the mountains unharried as long as they left the birds alone. And the blue-haired one, she was fairly certain, was related to someone she was very familiar with. Just thinking about it caused a slight pang in her chest, which she'd been doing her best to ignore ever since The Incident. Guilt was not a thing she had ever desired, but it had settled in her nonetheless - she bore it in the tight set of her shoulders and the dark circles beneath her eyes from sleepless nights, the cold well of revulsion in the bottom of her stomach. The anger at the two Fulsi had long flickered out, to be replaced only by terror at the knowledge of what horrors she was capable of inflicting. For the first time in her life, she had come to hate what she had become, and who she was. Not that she'd ever admit it to anyone but herself. Sure, she could try and find them and apologize. But then what? What good would come of that? The damage had been done, physically, mentally, emotionally, for all of them. So she'd carried on, leading her dwindling group the best she could. Winter was always a tough time, and between that, a lack of hatchlings and being picked off by predators and rings, their numbers were down. She could feel resentment growing amongst them and did not blame those who decided to take leave and go rogue. Ann probably would've done that herself, if she could. And now, here she was, sitting on this stupid tree branch and watching two idiots tumble down off the cliffs as the sheet of ice gave way underneath them. Just perfect. So she watched, and waited to see if they'd survive the fall, as her companions shuffled restlessly next to her. "Someone should tell them they're lousy free-divers, if they live. Think they'll live?" Quinn quipped. Ann turned her head to glance at the short barn owl, shrugging her wings and blinking back down towards the rapidly flowing river belong. "It's a long drop, but if they avoid those rocks..." There was silence for a moment as the two hit the river, and all three birds leaned foward, as if in anticipation. Ann broke the silence first, "Aha, see? Pink's over there, further downstream, but I think he's alright. ...where's Blue though?" There was a long pause in which nobody else broke the water's surface. "Aw, shit," Ann muttered under her breath. The osprey beside her made a dry, unamused sound. "Rescue mission, I guess?" Ann drew in a short breath. Blue was Ari's twin, she was sure of it. With the guilt already eating at her, letting him die would just feel wrong. Like a final nail on the coffin of her damnation. "Yeah, Peter. We should go find him." --- It took too long. Far too long. In fact, Ann was about to give up and signal at them to call off the search when Peter spotted something strange, a dark cloud of matter floating up in the river. It seemed almost impossible that that was him - how could he be alive after being in the water so long, surely he'd drowned by now?! - and she wasn't entirely certain that it was, until she reached out with her mind. Deep, deep down, she felt penetrating cold - not like a brain freeze so much as a bone-chilling numbness - spread through her mind and then snatches of thought, something about stupid, wingless dragons. That was him, she recognized the voice, even mentally. She'd just heard it earlier, when he was teasing Pink about something. A sharp cry echoed from her throat to let her companions know that yes, they'd found him, and then flew a quick circle around, studying the situation once the water became clear again. There's logs down there. She could see the edge of one just jutting up from the water. Maybe he's trapped. Her mind worked quickly, considering her options. There was no way any of them could simply get in the water to move it without getting swept up in the current, and they couldn't move it by air. A rope would have been useful if he wasn't bloody trapped beneath the water. The only thing she could think of was the one thing she'd never truly tried. Not like this. She'd practiced with her telekinesis, of course, and she'd gotten quite good at it, but logs were heavy and she'd never tried to lift anything of that caliber before. Still, it was about the only option she had at this point. The crow spotted a decent sized boulder a short distance away and though it was in the water, it was large enough that the current couldn't never touched the top of it. Not slick, that was good. She lighted on top of it and shifted into her more agile human form, clinging to the rock. Telekinesis as a bird worked as well, but only on smaller things, and she needed all the focus she could get. Ann concentrated all of her attention on the sliver of log jutting up from the river, and then reached out with her mind, like an extension of her own hands, imagined grabbing it and lifting it up, out of the water, and oh, that hurt. That hurt a lot. A short sharp pain was starting up her neck and into the back of her skull like a drill, but she kept at it, and eventually just barely managed to inch it up, inch by inch, three to four inches at most. That was enough. It was just enough that Tain was able to yank his arm free before she had to let go. She didn't even realize at first that he was free, all she felt was relief that the mental taxation was over followed by a blinding pain that nearly crippled her. When it eased up, she found that her nose was bleeding. Oh. She swiped at it with the back of her hand, trying to focus, and turned her head in the direction of a splash. Even with her vision swimming, she caught sight of blue hair, and felt relief all over again. Thank gods.  The next few minutes happened relatively quickly. She flew back to shore where she was greeted by Quinn and Peter, who had helped pull Blue out of the water and were now looking on with a twin set of grimaces as he vomited up all the liquid that had collected in his lungs. How he was still alive was beyond her, a mystery, though she didn't bother to question it. She held a sleeve up to her still-bloody nose, voice thick. "You two should...uh... circle up ahead, if his friend's looking for him maybe he'll see you two." They took off to do just that, and she was left to stare at the mirror image of the face that had haunted her dreams for the past four months. She hesitated, then crouched down. "It'll be okay. We'll find you some help. And your friend, if he's....if he's still around here." Her gray eyes quickly scanned over him, taking in the extent of the damage, noticing both his arms, his hands. Broken bones, not good. That had to hurt. She reached a hand out, tentatively, then rested it in his sopping wet hair, pushing it back off his forehead and letting a gentle elixir of calm and bliss drift from her fingertips and into him, if he accepted it. Hopefully that'd help chase away some of the pain. She even let it flow back into her, because right now that headache she had was a killer. --  OOC: In which I allow my character to experience a redemption arc, because nobody is born inherently evil, no matter what evil acts they may commit. (Also long post is long, 1516 words.)

[Tain Rosdahl]

He was making a point of being angry, if only because it was better than being terrified. The river sapped away the meager bit of body heat he'd restored in his fit of frustration within seconds, and left him too cold to even shiver. Hypothermia, his brain unhelpfully supplied.

If he hadn't already felt like he'd been dragged behind a tractor-trailer Tain might have recognized the feeling of a telepath reaching out toward him. A slight pressure, insignificant next to the crush of the river current in his ears and nose. But what he was not too drowned to notice was the tree lifting, just barely. He didn't know why, he didn't care why. The currents, an earthquake, bored Keepers who followed him and Py like awful substitutes for reality TV relationship drama. It didn't matter because it moved.

Tain stared stupidly at it for a second, then cranked back wildly, knees sloppily braced on the stack of deadwood. And just like that he was free, and the current grabbed him like a rag-doll and swept him violently away from what had very nearly been his grave. Everything spun wildly, and he had no sense of what was up or down until he hit the surface as the water finally threw him upwards. His eyes were instantly blinded by sunlight, and the thrashed for a second before calming a little and righting himself, legs kicking to keep him going. There must have been a shore closer to his back than he realized, because hands grabbed him and dragged him out of the river onto the smooth-pebble and silt shore.

The first thought that jumped to mind was Py, that he'd been looking for him and pulled him out. But two strangers stood over him instead, looking more wary than they should have been for having dragged him half dead out of a river. Tain didn't have too long to think about it, because he realized a whole new problem; he was suffocating. He'd been able to breath the flowing water like air, but the water in his lungs was stagnant now, useless, and choking him. As soon as he realized what was happening his body's reflexes came screaming back and he, already on his ass, doubled forward and heaved. Water from his stomach, from his lungs, from his nose and it just seemed endless. He coughed it up so hard that it hurt, and when it finally emptied and he took a breath, the cool air felt like sandpaper in his chest. He was dimly aware that while this was happening, a third person had come over and sent the other two off.

Tain wasn't quite feeling up to tilting his head all the way back to look at this new stranger, the way water was still running out of his nose, but she ended up crouching down to see him. She looked a lot better than he felt, with black hair and gray eyes. Her voice sounded weird until he shook his head a bit and his ears popped, and he caught the gist of it. The other two were looking for Py, wherever he'd gone. Tain wanted to ask, but his throat still felt too raw to speak. The thoughts from the bottom of the river came crawling back to him now that he was safe, that he didn't know if Py had survived the fall or the river. He'd been counting on seeing him on the shore if he got out, but he was nowhere.

The woman pressed a hand into his hair too late to stop him crying, a mixture of emotion and his body struggling to flood out the grit of the river. Her touch did do something though, it ate away some of the frozen pain of his arms, some of the bone-deep chill of the river. He knew pain didn't just vanish, she must be doing something. Healing? He could push energy like that himself, but a glance at her showed her with blood streaked down her face, still flowing. Not healing, then. It did soothe the burn in his chest enough for him to speak, though.

"Py? H-ave you.. pink hair, we fell?" His words were thick and pleading, desperate for good news. "I can.." He leaned his head at her face, and burned energy back through the connection where she was touching him. He needed it out of him anyways, before things healed.. badly.

"Thanks for getting me but.. how? The tree just..?" He mimed lifting it with both hands and instantly regretted it, the backlash was so strong his vision actually blacked out for a dangerous moment, and left him gasping for air. He couldn't even look at his hands, he couldn't think about that yet. His brain searched for something to latch onto, and landed on a memory. One of Tarrik laughing and changing Tain's emotions like he was dialing in a radio station. How he'd said certain emotions did things to the body, like release dopamine. A painkiller. He'd been very specific with that comment, like'd he'd been repeating it from someone. And he had been.

Tain looked at her face again, and tried not to make the connection. He'd seen her before, sketched in charcoal, her hair tied back at the base of her neck. He recognized her, and suddenly wondered if he hadn't been better off in the river.

[Anita Gellard]

sold my soul to a three-piece, and he told me i was holy Gods, he looks pathetic, Ann thought, as she moved her fingers to rest lightly under his chin, tipping his face up gently so she could get a better look at him. And that wasn’t her trying to be cruel, either; she really did feel bad for the guy. His face was streaked with river grime and tears, his hands and arms were a bloody, swollen mess, and he barely had the strength to lift his head let alone stand up. It seemed like nature was doing its best to turn him into minced meat. Not nature, she reminded herself, for there was nothing natural about this place. The Keepers. They’re the ones who like to play roulette with peoples’ lives. Then again, they had also given her the ability to rescue this poor sap. Go figure. Her sharp eyes snapped back to meet his gaze when he managed to stutter out a few words. So the pink-haired one was named Py. Good to know. Ann bit her lip thoughtfully, then nodded a fraction, “My scouts and I saw you two fall. He was alive when he hit the water and afterwards, I know that much. I…” Her voice hitched a little, then grew firmer, “We’ll find him. My scouts are looking for him now, he was much further downstream and might’ve gotten out on his own. It’d be a long walk for him, though, that’s probably why he hasn’t gotten here yet,” She gave his cheek a comforting stroke of her thumb, just the barest of touches; there was nothing intimate about it. Ann figured that the contact might be appreciated, no matter the source, after being stuck alone at the bottom of a river. What she hadn’t expected was for him to push energy back through their connection – it was a strange sensation, like some sort of balm, and she knew it was meant to heal. The blood that had been streaming from her nose gradually came to a stop, for which she was thankful. Nosebleeds had become a common thing since she’d been given telekinesis. Probably over-taxing it or something. Whatever. “As for the log...well…the mind comes in handy for all sorts of things, no?” The girl reached up to tap the side of her head, then offered a half-hearted smile. “The Keepers decided I should be able to move things with mine. It’s weird, but…” She trailed off as he started to choke for breath, and her hand reached out for a moment to grasp his shoulder, unsure of whether it was because of more water stuck in his lungs, not realizing it was from pain. His breathing calmed after a few long seconds, and she rocked back on her knees, brow furrowed. There was something in his eyes when he looked back up at her, a conveyance that she couldn’t place, but it made her feel uneasy all the same. So she just…focused her attention somewhere else. Like those hands. Yikes. They had already started to bruise viciously, and then there was the swelling…his left arm and hand looked a lot worse, but honestly, his right wasn’t much better. She didn’t want to touch them and make things even more hellish for him, so she kept her hands to herself, but continued to radiate an aura of calm in the hopes that it would spread to him. And then there was the fact that he was drenched to the bone…it was cold out, a lingering winter, and the empathy could only do so much before the chill would start to eat at him again. “Need to get you home, Blue, you’re soaked.” Her gaze drifted back to the skies to see where Peter and Quinn had gone off to, saw one of them circling on an up-draft, the other heading downstream of the river. Whatever the case, dead or alive, they’d finally found Py. For Blue’s sake, she hoped it was the latter. “But while we wait,” her eyes flicked back down to meet his. “We should really try to set that arm. It’s broken, isn’t it? With the swelling…? And if you’re a healer….” She gestured loosely at her nose, indicating the fact he’d healed it earlier, “Your body will be wanting to heal that. But it’ll be useless if it isn’t set right. I’ve seen what happens when they aren’t.” A bird in her flock had once had a broken wing, and the wing hadn’t been healed correctly which led to…well…them no longer being able to fly. She couldn’t imagine what that’d be like, to be deprived of the one small freedom the bird shift allowed. Gently, she set two fingers on the arm in question. “So you need to try and focus, and tell me exactly how to do it, if you know how. I want to help.” --  OOC: STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK HIS BONES BUT A BIRB WILL NEVER HURRRTTT HIM.

[Tain Rosdahl]

What was he supposed to say to his brother's psychopathic ex-girlfriend? There was no shred of social etiquette in his brain to guide him. He was already suffering a haphazard tantrum of emotions; the calm she'd summoned pitted against the aftershocks of terror and anger that followed her recognition, the panic about his arms, and growing anxiety about Pythagoras. He needed to hear that he was alive, that he was fine, or mad, or anything, really.

And what was she saying now? That she was worried about him in the cold? For a moment he blanked on what to say, managing only an exhausted shrug. He was quickly becoming too tired to be nearly as scared or angry with her as he ought to be, he realized.

"It's fur," he mumbled, then swallowed hard to try and clear the emotions from his throat. "I'll warm up, even wet. ...you're right though, they need to be set."

Tain lapsed into silence then, jaw tight as he looked down. What he could see of his wrists and hands beyond the sleeves was bad. Bad. Anita was right, if they weren't set he would be crippled for life. He probably was already. And she wanted him to tell her how to do it. It wasn't a bad plan, or even unusual. But telling someone how to set the complex bones of his hand was ridiculous, particularly in the field.

There was, of course, another way. He thought of Tarrik and suppressed a grimace. She had to realize who he was, he and Tarrik were very literally identical. Hells, his likeness to Tarrik might be the only reason she'd troubled herself to save him. Or perhaps not. Tarrik had described Anita as many things; incredibly adaptive, smart, and charming popped to mind. It was only at the very end that things had gone to hell in a way that Tain still couldn't fully understand. For all they knew she'd been on psychoactive drugs courtesy of the Keepers, and the brave girl Tarrik had met in the forest had been unjustly crucified in their minds. Tain had a notion that he was about to find out, and took a deep, steadying breath before speaking.

"You don't need me to tell you. I know.. I know what you can do. Don't pretend I'm confused, okay, I.. I know. It's all in my head, right in front just... just use it. Please. I'll probably black out from the pain, I won't be able to help you just by talking. There are supplies on my belt, you need the tape and splint rolls."

Tain's voice took on a panicky edge as he finished, his mouth dry. He knew how to take a beating these days, but this was going to hurt. Debilitatingly. And shit, he wasn't focusing. He didn't need to send Anita digging through his psyche when he could dial it in like a radio station for her, and so he focused on his memories of how to splint arms. How to feel for broken bones in the hand, how to wrap on the unrolled splints. His fingers were pointless to deal with out here, besides yanking them straight, the only thing big enough to set would be his left forearm. She also needed to pull his coat off, which wasn't going to be fun. The rabbit fur lining was slowly stopping his shivering, though he supposed he could just take it off the one arm, and wear it on his shoulder on that side.