welcome to your new hell, Welcome to the Menagerie. Or as we like to call it, Dome Sweet Dome! We are an eight-year strong futuristic shapeshifter and sci-fi creature roleplay, dedicated to bringing you a world unlike any other; a world in which your character has become an experiment and must fight for survival in a domed city, cut off from the rest of the world. Choose to be any animal in your fight for survival in an artificial world built by the Keepers as they subject you to experiments beyond your control. Choose to wander the world inside the walls alone, as a Rogue, or find safety in numbers in one of the groups known as Rings. How will you survive?
60 - 65 ºF
blustery with scattered showers spotty sunshine
YEAR 2309
shift bans.
» Cougars (aka Puma, Mountain Lion, Panther)
» All Tiger Species
» All Lion Species
» All Wolf Species
» African Leopards
group bans.
none.
encouraged !
FEMALE CHARACTERS! create a RETRO or ANTHRO and get 250 CP + a free skill! read me for more info!
last updated: april 19th, 2016
Click on each Ring or Retro group image to view their ranks!
GROUP UPDATES
CARNARING
Jocelyn Edelwolfe is the new Alpha! Seija Mulviene is the new Beta, and Grey is the new Delta. Lead Hunter is now Boone Haywood, Head of Border Patrol is now Noelle Ndango!
FALLENRING
-
FULSIRING
Fulsi has a standing treaty with the Nakoma, granting limited access to their fresh water.
NAKOMA TRIBE
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ANALOYA PRIDE
a while back, the Analoya suffered a suspicious poisoning of their river, luckily with few casualties; the Bellator are suspected of having taken part in it, and there are whispers that Pride leader Wanderer is talking alliance with the Nilda for access to their clean water.
BELLATOR HERD
As new leader of the Bellator, Loril has instituted some rank changes. See this thread for more information!
LAWAII FLOCK
no updates!
NILDA PACK
no updates!
CARNARING QUICK STATS
ALPHA -- Jocelyn Edelwolfe, Clouded Leopard, played by IronChild
BETA -- Seija Mulviene, Spotted Hyena, played by Seija-chan
DELTA --Grey, Mackenzie Valley Wolf, played by Kriss
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There had been a vicious storm the night before, the sort that wrecked havoc on the entirety of the dome. The wind had screeched as banshees are famed to do, the windows of the ruined city has shaken, the trees bowed and quaked beneath the tremendous pull and push of the wind. The entire Dome had felt the fury of the Keepers, to the borderlands of Fallen to the farthest reach of the Analoya's dark forest. He had weathered the storm in his shift form, shivering beneath three feet of snow on the edge of Bellator land, not that Sirius knew it was called that. He knew nothing of retromorphs, in fact.
When he unearthed himself it was to see the most beautiful sight of his life.
It was white to the farthest reach of his eye. Even tremendous clouds capped the horizon, mountains of soft, feathery things that were a vague mockery of the black tempest that had come and gone in the night. He took a moment to admire the sight, having never seen something so pristine. Perhaps Sirius would later learn that everything in the Dome was Keeper-engineered, including the weather and the stars, but for the moment his joy was unhindered albeit kept tightly in check. He stared out at the pure, throbbing white of the plains and was forced to squint. It was so beautiful.
He spent hours marveling, contemplating. It was not so bad once the sun emerged with a vengeance and warmed the air. In his shift form he retained heat better than he had expected. Regardless, he remained half-dug into the small burrow he had created. He simply watched. It must have been mid-day when he observed a small transgression of deer emerge from the nearby, frosted forest. He remained hidden and perfectly still, observing. He was aware of his hunger, having not eaten for the past three days or so, and the sight of potential venison was enough to have his mouth pool with saliva. They were relaxed... he began to prowl forward through the snow, taking care to go unnoticed. He had luckily already been positioned downwind, making his approach easier.
Sirius was a patient hunter. He had learned that patience his entire life and now it was exercised fully. The small herd of deer wandered along the edge of the trees and eventually romped farther out into the plains, nibbling at the tall stalks of golden grass that still protruded from the cap of snow. Eventually Sirius could hear the sound of rushing water and he realized at that point was his best opportunity. He would only have one chance and it would be best to delay their escape by pinning them effectively between a portion of thick forest, where the brambles were practically impenetrable, and the river. Sirius' eyes settled on his target... a young, weak looking doe...
He exhaled. This would be a new experience. Thus far he had not attempted to attack anything so large, having focused on rabbits. Sirius did not allow this to deter him. He coiled his muscles, and sprang.
One stride. The deer were alerted to his presence. They stiffened.
Two strides. They began to flee.
Three strides. His target slipped on the ice by the river-bank, fumbled.
Four strides. It was a fatal mistake.
Five strides. The impact jarred his bones. His mouth filled with the distinctive copper flavor of blood as his teeth seized the flesh at the back of the neck. It was an undesirable grip. He instinctively shifted in an attempt to get a better one, haphazardly half-atop the deer. She was shifting beneath him in a twisting motion, almost bucking, a sideways attempt to escape his jaws. It lead them straight into the rushing waters, a frigid shock that made his breath catch. Sirius felt no emotion in those moments. It was instinctual, reactive. His forelegs snagged around her neck as she kicked up onto the other bank, sliding backward in the wet mud, panting heavily. The other deer lurked in his peripherals.
His doe stumbled forward so harshly he was dislodged from her back. She scrambled away, leaping back into the water and struggling to swim across stream. He twisted on a haunch and, in a show of his breeds astounding athleticism, leaped across the stream just as the doe mounted the opposite bank. This time he landed astride her and in one twist of his jaws he clamped her jugular between his teeth. Suddenly, there was so much blood. It ran hot into his mouth and the doe's struggling abated as he tightened his grip, the muscles in his neck straining against her attempt to escape.
Sirius released when she slackened. He glanced at her with a slack-mouthed, lupine grin. It was the picture of a triumphant predator and it slackened completely when he watched her shift into a very young girl, clutching at her throat. The killer immediately transformed into a man, reaching out with his own hands in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. He did not apologize. How could one apologize for this--?
He could not gather his thoughts in time to react to the sudden, sharp pain in his side. Sirius was sent flying back into the water by an unseen entity. He re-emerged a moment later, gasping and disorientated. He re-focused and identified the threat as a large bull, sliding down the muddy embankment, snorting. Sirius reached out toward the edges of the river, only to discover that it had steepened considerably, and the roots gave way when he attempted to pull on them. The river was moving more rapidly and it was a short amount of time before the bull disappeared--only to reappear later down the river, with an assortment of other herd animals.
Up ahead Sirius could see a tree on the edge of the river, with roots that extended down the bank. The problem? It was on the same side as the furious herbivores. Sirius had no other option. He, again, reacted on instincts and clung to the roots, scrambling as quickly up the bank as possible while he remained ahead of his pursuers. He transformed immediately back into an animal and began to run, at first blindly. He then reminded himself to remain calm. He had to formulate a plan--
And there it was. He could see a thick pillar of smoke rising on the very edge of the plain, near some very ominous trees. Sirius sprinted that direction, bringing in his wake an entire herd of frothing, angry Bellator. He had no idea what was happening or how he had just killed a young girl. Sirius had no idea if the fire would bring him friends or more enemies. Regardless, the trees would provide shelter if the fire did not, and he doubted a bull could move as easily through them as he himself could. Come on, just a little farther. His streamline body made short work of the distance. He began to release a series of short, alarmed barks in order to warn whoever was unlucky enough to warrant the attention of the fleeing Malinois.
Talk about a harbinger of bad news. He shot a glance over his shoulder, quickly, to see that they had not abated.
The day was vivid and clear. Snow had fallen through the night, and when Nikk emerged it was gently and silently. The Menagerie had shed from this perfect realm, this white pristine world if not for just a moment, and as Nikk stood in the snow she felt a hint of magic as she had when she was a child in Pavek; in Russian. She allowed herself a small, stolen moment and leaned her head back to the blackened skeletons of the sleeping trees and brilliant blue skies.
Her brown eyes closed, and for the first time in a long time her lips pulled up in the smallest of smiles. Nikk loved the snow. She’d been born during winter, and though its icy breath could speak death so easily, she always felt a kinship. Perhaps, it was why she felt so disconnected with people. It was in the winter she remembered most clearly the stories her otetz told of the ice bears. Fanciful, beautiful stories of bravery and sacrifice.
The smallest of winds cast her long blonde hair to sway, and with it came the smell of fire. In that same instance the moment was gone forever. Her head turned slowly to the east, where a billow of smoke rose in the distance. What fool was responsible for that?
A quarter hour later saw Nikk crouched and watching a small band of shifters - Rouges, she guessed, with a decent fire roasting what looked like the fleshy carcass of a small deer. Panic set in. She’d have to get a move on and quick. The retros were sensitive to those in their territory as she well knew, but hunting and having the gall to cook and eat there too would not go unnoticed. Especially with a beacon telling every Bellator within thirty square miles exactly where they were.
Her eyes swept over the small clearing east, then north. This area wouldn’t be safe for a long while now; she’d have to head back into the Rings.
It was then she heard the commotion headed from the south. A dog barking. He burst through the clearing, scattering the Rouges and, hard on the canine’s heels, was exactly what Nikk had been worried about: a herd of retros. Chaos spilled into the small clearing.
Amongst the anarchy, was the dog that caused all the drama. He was sleek, reminding Nikk of a German Shepherd. However, this dog was less encumbered by size or heft of the larger breed. His brown and gold movement was effortless, diving through the madness and .... straight for her. He leaped the same moment she turned to flee, and managed to tackle her.
Nikk bit back a yell of fear as paws and hands and bodies tangled, but somehow she managed to land atop him. Her hand shoved his head into the snow, her body weight though scarcely more than his, even as a dog, keeping him down.
“Shhh,” she commanded. She remained as still as she could, and was relieved that at least for a few seconds the dog was immobile. For how long, she did not know. It was luck, a blessing that the Rouges and the Bellator engaged in battle, and several moments passed before she let out a breath.
It wasn’t that she wanted to save the dog. He was flung in her path and she needed to be safe. She simply made the gamble that he would be either a real dog and recognize dominance when he felt it, or be smart enough as a retro or shifter that his ass was in deep water and had an ally. It was a blessing for that one moment, however it lasted exactly that long before his muzzle broke free and claimed crimson penance from her skin. She gasped and pulled her arm back.
“Hey,” she snapped quietly. “Shh,” she impressed, her tone had taken on the edge of one in pain, but she pushed it aside. She still bled, but ignored the injury for now. There would be more bleeding if the Bellator caught either of them.
Before there was time to argue she struggled past him in the snow, tripped once, caught her feet, and headed North East … Analoya would be safer at the moment than damned Bellator. Half the time they were mindless with instinct. When the dog didn’t follow she waved a hand and hissed a beckon, her movements obvious that he should follow her. Past the invite it was his decision whether to follow or not.
She was always paying for helping others, it never failed. He would come or wouldn't - she was gone either way. A trail of scarlet followed in her wake, the warmth of the blood melting the snow behind her.
It had been, in many respects, an accidental assault. Sirius had been reacting to his surroundings, diving directly through the center of the Rogue camp out onto the other side. He did not intend to wait, his eyes having seized on the tangle of trees in the near distance. If he could make it that far he could easily out-maneuver the larger of herbivores, if they continued to pursue him so far. From the sound of fighting behind him, Sirius assumed that they had collided violently with the small gathering of Rogues, which was all the worse for them. Sirius did not have time to stop and glance back, or even care much about the matter--it had gotten him out of his own mess.
He did not slow. The bright white of the snow made it difficult for him to see clearly in the front, which meant that he did not see the sudden decline ahead. His momentum carried him forward with more force than he had intended and, at that very moment, he hit the solid shape of a woman who appeared quite abruptly. They tumbled and in that tumble she took advantage of his surprise and the situation, or perhaps it was dumb luck. Her weight pressed down on him and, despite being nothing save muscle, she outweighed him. His muzzle was pinned, his vision blurred by the snow. Shhh.
Sirius would be perfectly quiet. He wasn't stupid. But he seized that moment to break his muzzle and lash out, teeth hot against her arm. He did mean to hurt her significantly but a bite was a bite. He did not appreciate being pinned anymore than she appreciated her evening ruined, which Sirius had doubtlessly done. She pulled back just as Sirius had expected and he seized that moment to buck her off and wriggle free, his expression that of an aggressively upturned lip. He had yet to make a sound, feeling no true hostility from the woman. His eyes were drawn to the conflict just above the small hill, where they were engaged in a violent battle. The rogues had been caught unaware, resulting in a slight advantage for the herd animals, but from the violent snarl of a lion perhaps they would not do quite so badly. Sirius had no interest of facing their wrath and, as the woman tumbled past him, he turned on a heel to pursue without her beckoning.
He waited until they were beyond the tree-line to shift into a man. He took the moment to hike up his jacket and rip his undershirt, the one that he wore beneath his button up. He handed the strip of fabric to her. "You surprised me," Sirius admitted, without a hint of irony. He certainly knew the conditions of the situation and he realized that, had anyone else said it, they might have done so with a tinge of humor. He was not the sort. "Stop the flow of bleeding and they will have a more difficult time of following us, if they decide to. Are you familiar with this territory?" He kept his voice a low whisper, much more alert now than he had been.
"Is that shifter territory? Why were they all deer and bulls and antelope?" Sirius had taken in as many facts as he had been able in the short amount of time. His tongue still tasted of blood and the recollection of the girl was faint. He had caught one more glimpse of her as he had been rushing down the river, a haphazard glance that showed her once again shapeshifting into a deer. He had seen the opposite occur in death, when Amaro had been killed. He had transformed from a dog back into a man, a fact that Sirius had always found strange. Why was it the opposite had occurred with the girl? His stomach felt sick with the thought. He realized that he might not even be welcomed with this woman, considering the circumstances of their encounter. He decided to scrap whatever was left of their relations with an introduction, although at that point it scarcely mattered. "I am Sirius, by the way."
Long minutes of struggling through the snow saw Nikk and the dog out of the brash of trees and to the base of the foothills. They too were dappled with trees, but short scraggly foliage that were more like glorified bushes than oak or ash. She liked them. They were great for cover.
When the dog stopped in his tracks, Nikk paused – perhaps he’d been injured after all? Nope. Just shifting. She let out a panted sigh that puff a cloud in the cold air. Out of the trees, the wind was picking up and it was very chilly. Her bottom jaw chattered from cold and adrenaline. When he ripped his shirt she watched impassively, then looked to her arm. The tear in her sleeve would need mending, and the holes in her arm caused the majority of the fabric below her elbow to soak through with blood.
You surprised me, he said as he offered the ripped piece of shirt. She took it without much thought or comment. She turned to survey the landscape again, and think – his inane comment about bleeding and being followed passed through one ear and out the other. The Bellator wouldn’t follow them if they got into Analoya no matter how much she was bleeding. It was pure damn luck they were near the border. The bleeding then would simply attract predators. She was at risk either way.
She’d reacted reflexively. Stupidly. She should have just ducked from the way and let him deal with his own life. It was certainly her own fault. Still, she’d rather have not bled for it. Her arm throbbed with pain, distracting her from thinking.
Slinging her bag from one shoulder to the other, she kneeled down and let the freezing water clean and numb her arm. Then, she pushed her sleeve up and, using her teeth as a third hand, wrapped her arm tight in the clean cotton material then pulled her sleeve back down. She would rather have ignored the offer of his shirt but, though she was loathe to admit it, his damn undershirt was likely cleaner than anything extra she had. Plus, he’d already torn it. She stood.
His questions went unanswered for long moments. She didn’t owe him any, and wasn’t entirely sure she cared enough one way or the other to explain. She didn’t like dealing with other shifters period, but the new ones were the neediest. She wanted to get out of here, not ask twenty questions. Her shoe lace had come untied. Pitching her long blonde hair over a shoulder she leaned down and winced. She’d pulled something in her leg when she tripped. Her fingers made quick work of the lace and when she rightened, he gave her his name.
Her deep brown eyes assessed him then. He still smelled of the Keepers. She really did hate that smell, but it would do well for them. Keeper smell usually kept the inhabitants of the Menagerie away. Especially retros. He was fit, military fit, and from his manner and the way he held himself she guessed he was a decent fighter.
I shouldn’t have even looked at who’d made that God-awful huge fire, came a random thought. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. It was in the past now.
“Yes. No. They’re retromorphs,” she answered simply despite herself. Stepping onto a crop of rocks that crossed the river, she winced again as her weight hit her leg wrong and she wobbled.
“Damn,” she hissed under her breath as she quickly leapt to another rock and onto the far bank of snow. Clear from the death of immersing herself in freezing mountain river water in the dead of winter, she huffed a sigh and caught her breath, then continued on into the west. As she walked, she hauled out the crude gloves Yahweh had made her from her pack. The furs were warm against her cold hands.
“We’re out of Bellator territory, they won’t follow,” she said – stealing a glance at him from her peripheral when he kept looking back. Despite his concern, he seemed intent on following her.
The Analoya had been very quiet this winter, and the brushy trees she quite liked would make a good place to hunker down for the afternoon and night. It was either here, or cross the majority of the Analoya territory to the other border. Nikk favored the borders, especially in winter. There usually wasn’t a lot going on. Bitten and achy and stressed she’d rather remain here. For a while anyway.
She stopped again, assessing the best hideout and promptly dropped to her knees by a tree and started to dig and shape. A few minutes later exposed a whole just big enough to crawl through. Beneath the snow-laden branches was a mini cave. Once she crawled in, she shuffled about until she’d hit the deadfall beneath the snow, and pushed the snow to the edges and packed it tight into the corners. Her arm throbbed and she was gusting by the time she was done. She poked her head out and looked at the man.
“Well?” and popped back in. It wasn’t the nicest home, but unless she missed her guess there was a storm coming, she could feel it in her toes, and these shelters always held quite well. They would be protected at the very least. If they gathered some materials, they could make an air hole for a small fire once the sun went down. They’d need it then anyway. She could almost feel the temperatures dropping the further the afternoon went along.
He felt her gauging him, perhaps deciding whether it would be worth it to keep his company. Sirius was unfamiliar with the Menagerie. He had not followed the progress of the colossal zoo, preoccupied by other tasks or circumstances and so now he was at a loss. And so that was meant he was little more than dead weight, something that this woman had to know from one sweeping glance and from the nature of their introduction. He would not blame her if she decided to abandon him, if only due to the fact she owed him no allegiance. Sirius gauged her in return, although he found nothing of particular note aside from the fact that she was alive and well in a literal hellhole.
Retromorphs. What was a retromorph? The woman had not told him off and so Sirius pursued her, eyes on her frame, noting the moment that she wobbled on the rocks. He said nothing about the lapse, simply followed her track with as much grace. His eyes continued to wander. He felt uncomfortable in his own skin, as though this forest were something that could not be trusted. He was also realizing with more and more certainty that he was in danger of developing hypothermia. The adrenaline had kept the chill at bay but now, in the shade of the trees and without the swift pursuit of attackers, Sirius felt the cold in his bones. "I don't know what that means."
He decided to make a statement rather than continue asking question. Everything was wet. He had forgotten about his incident in the river and now it was the only thing that occupied his mind. He hunched his shoulders and wrapped his arms around himself. Keep a clear mind, he thought. Sirius began to bite the inside of his cheek with a certain severity, if only to keep his mind on the task at hand rather than the pain of his fingertips. He kept a mental note of "Bellator territory" and assured himself that he would later learn what that meant but, as of the moment, it was irrelevant information in comparison to what else was going on. I like this girl, Sirius thought. She moves fast. And it was true. It took her little time to find them an alcove and, before Sirius could even offer assistance, she had procured a location and begun to dig out a hollow.
Sirius moved in place, keeping warm as she made the burrow. He waited outside as she entered, uncertain as to whether or not he was truly invited. It could have simply been that she was uninterested in speaking to him and assumed that he would take a hint and leave--considering she had not exactly been the most hospitable thus far, regardless of the fact that she was not aggressive. Indifferent. It was the best term that Sirius could think of in regards of her, and he stiffened as she reemerged and spoke. "C-coming." His teeth were chattering. Sirius followed her into the metaphorical rabbit's hole.
It was cramped but not so badly that they were crammed together. He immediately shucked off the jacket, which was heavy with water, and shoved it out of the way. He continued to shiver, curled into a tight fetal position, attempting to conserve his warmth. This was not the situation that he would have preferred to be in and he found himself wondering if it would be better to shift, and wait for his fur to dry. He said nothing about the matter. He simply clenched his teeth, too hard-worn to ever complain about the pain or the circumstance that he had no experience in fixing. They had not trained him for cold-weather survival. He had never been anywhere this cold, as a matter of fact, and not for the first time he felt helpless to circumstance, and that made him angry.
His chilled return came out and he ducked into the little hole then shucked his sopping jacket and tossed it to the side. Well it wouldn’t dry like that. She watched him distantly, her eyes moving up his frame to his clear eyes and back down his vibrating body and came to quick conclusion. He had no idea what he was doing. She sighed quietly, levered up onto her knees, and dug around her pack. She pulled things and tucked them back in until she produced a holey, mostly clean, but very dry small towel.
“If you stay in any of those clothes you will freeze to death,” she said her voice low and remote, and tossed the towel to him. “I’m going to get some wood. Strip, scrub your skin down with that until you are pink and dry and then shift without the clothes. When you’re done toss them outside. I’ll take care of them, and I mean it all of them.” He would find the process left him dry and warm almost immediately.
Shimming out of the hole, she set off without her pack toward the woods to collect bracken, deadfall and limbs. It would take a couple of trips … she knew from experience that they would need the fire, especially tonight. The clear skies told of frost later. They might be stuck for a day, maybe two depending on how much torture the Keepers wanted to bestow upon them.
When she came back the second trip she was satisfied to see that his sopping wet garbs were left on the clean snow for her. On her third trip she saw that the jacket and towel had migrated with them as well. On the fourth trip she was getting very tired, but content with the amount she had collected. It would have to go inside or it would be useless.
Before anything, she heaved a breath and made a small ball, then began rolling that small ball around until it became a bigger and bigger ball. Afterwards, she dug a hole in front of the little burrow, eyeballed it and nodded with satisfaction. Then, she seized the wet clothes, and wrung the life from each article of clothing until both arms were killing her.
The light was slipping behind the hills by that time, and the eerie golden glow lit up the landscape of white snow and crooked black bodies of trees in fiery, icy lights. Still more, always more. Rolling the ball within reach, she crawled in and stacked the firewood.
Sirius was again in his dog form, dry but curled up in a tight ball with his nose in his tail. Good. He wouldn’t die of hypothermia … not yet anyway. Once the firewood was properly stacked, she hung some herbs she had collected beneath the snowmelt by the riverbank. A small additive to the water she would boil later, and a decent weak tea along with dried pine needles she already had in her bag. Still tired, still more to do. Shedding her jacket, for it was cumbersome; she set about a small fire. A bit early, but too much longer and she’d be lighting it the dark and that sucked. One of the branches she stuck in the back in a nook on either side of the shelter, then carefully hung up his smaller items to try. The jacket she left in the corner. There wasn’t room for everything at once.
Carefully, gently she worried a hole into the top of the roof between the branches. If the fire was too big, it would melt the top of their shelter. Too small and it would go out eventually. It was a science. Once the fire was going decently she nodded once to the dog that now appeared to be sleeping. She little cared whether he was or not.
“Don’t touch that,” she said sternly as she pointed to the fire. “I’ll be back in a while.” Once she left, she shifted the large snowball in front of the entrance. It wasn’t to keep him in … it was to keep things out, and hide the fire.
It was dark by the time she returned, a rabbit and two grouse tied to her belt - cleaned and ready. She was trembling. She’d left the jacket in favor of the possibility that she might be swifter without it. Her knives and flown true three out of four times. The last she’d been too cold and now moving the snowball was difficult.
Once it was moved she almost collapsed inside. After several moments she heaved the ball back in place, and too inventory. Sirius the dog watched her, the embers of the smoldering fire deceivingly low. Good – that meant it was hot. He’d not touched it just as she’d asked. The wood she’d set aside was dryer now, and more ready to burn … she reached up and tested his clothes… they too were almost dry.
Pulling on her jacket, she set about rebuilding the fire. Almost there, she coached herself. Almost done, then you can sleep Aunikka.
His comfort resided in combative situations, in which the enemy was clear and able to be defeated. He was able to map out a crowded area and identify possible threats from body language and behavior. He could stake a perimeter and guard it for hours on end, without tiring. He had been trained to identify stress in his handlers and find ways to deal with it. He knew how to be attentive to his urban and rural surroundings and... he had never realized just how much his ability to do so had hinged on his familiarity with them. He had been to beaches and mountains, but the wilds had never been a significant matter of his training. It had always revolved around more urban environments, where it was easy enough to find an air conditioned or heated room and there were blankets aplenty. It had never been so cold anywhere Sirius had been. He felt the weight of her eyes and, once more, felt helpless. More than that, Sirius felt a fool. He was accustomed to either being entirely capable of entirely undermined and here, with so little control of the situation, he was most definitely the second of the two. He did not return her stare but looked down, just above his knees. He could hear her rummaging.
"Mmm." It was his reflexes that allowed him to catch the towel before it hit him in the face. The noncommittal noise was all he could muster for the occasion, being at such a loss. Having been given clear directive, Sirius was able to regain some stability and do as she had said. He preformed the task thoroughly and ensured that his clothes were laid out as neatly as his trembling hands could manage. Once he had stripped and rubbed his skin dry (until it was raw, in fact) Sirius curled back in the alcove and shifted. He felt... better, albeit not warmer. More certain of his surroundings. The order had settled his frayed nerves. Once laying there, his entire body begged him for sleep. He had not realized the tole the chase had taken on him until now. He felt the ache in his side where the bull and the throb of hurt from the cold. Despite the urge to sleep, Sirius did not allow himself to. He held it at bay and listened attentively for the woman on the outside. His ears remained alert and erect, even as his face hid beneath the soft plume of his tail.
He realized that she was making a fire and he welcomed that immediately. His tail gave a few friendly wags and his head perked up, if only momentarily, before he dropped it to his paws and observed her work. She was effective, experienced. He could tell from the smooth rhythm of her movements. She did not fumble as much as an inexperienced woman would have, and so Sirius assumed that she had done this on many occasions. He realized that she could be a very helpful friend, if only he were allowed to have friends--
The thought broke off as he realized that there was no one telling him he could not. There was no one telling him what to do, where to be, who to protect. Strangely, that left a void inside of him, a hollow emptiness that was more akin to nervous confusion than relief. He did not know how to deal with the feeling and so sunk back in on himself, eyes shut and face hidden once more. Luckily, he was impassive through and through, and feigned sleep well enough. Sirius heeded her command but showed no sign that he had heard her. He did not move once she left. He merely waited for her return, feeling... wrong. Misplaced, even. He had never been the one that was cared for, save for immediately after Amaro's death and even that could hardly be considered "care". He felt a strong urge to follow the woman, if only so that she did not go out into that strange dark world alone... He had not staked a perimeter, he did not know what lay out there. How could he properly take care of the situation if he did not know his surroundings? It went against his base instincts and training, so much that he began to whine in her absence, and he almost rose.
Had he not been so bone-chillingly cold, Sirius would have followed her. The only thing that kept him pinned to the spot was her command. Don't touch that. He could do that. He could do that very well. He realized that he almost began to guard the flames, watching them with the intensity of a single-minded child--
and then he heard a shift outside, the sound of snow crunching underfoot. He perked immediately and watched the entrance. She was cold, he could tell. Sirius pinned his ears back and an anxious expression overtook his features. He could help. He could sit beside her, warm her? Yet the rules prior the Menagerie did not apply. He had never been assigned to protect this woman and, in fact, it seemed as though the role he usually took had been reversed. He settled his head again on his paws and said nothing. Was a thanks in order? Sirius could hardly remember having thanked anyone his entire life but he felt compelled to now, her face vaguely lit by the embers of the fire she was bringing back to life. "Thank you. You didn't have to do any of what you just did." Sirius had always been very attuned to people, their attitudes. He could practically feel her exhaustion. "If you tell me what to do I can take over for you and you can rest... I just need instruction, is all." He realized that would mean shifting, but from the looks of it his clothes were almost dry, and he had never learned the art of human self-consciousness.
She worked steadily but slowly feeding the fire with dried brush, then larger branches, until the small flames were hot and strong. Too large a fire would start melting their shelter, but it was frigid outside now , would be even colder later, and she doubted that the walls would give to the heat. When he spoke thanks, her eyes flashed to him, though she never faltered in her work. Instead she ignored him. You didn’t have to do any of what you just did. She thought on that. He would be of little help now, other than the fact that an extra body meant more warmth.
Digging around in her pack again she found her small dented pot that had no handle but two small holes near the rim, and set it up with three sticks. It lingered just low enough for the flames to lick the bottom. Not the quickest way to boil water but it would keep the small fire from extinguishing.
Now and then she added snow from the corners of the shelter into the pot, and then the herbs before she finally settled with her coat around her. By then the little hut was really beginning to warm up. She watched the flames as though a mother watching her children and after a while finally spoke.
“What’s done is done. You’re useless until you learn anything about the winter,” her eyes lifted to him then in quiet judging assessment. She knew. She knew what it was like to be dropped off in the middle of the dome without nothing and no one. It was hardest on those accustomed to being capable. Likely, his man would have been the Adonis embodiment of capability where he was from. Now, he was like a new born calf – unsure of everything. Her eyes narrowed.
“I go by Nikk,” she said unexpectedly. “You want your meat raw now or cooked? You could probably put your clothes back on here in a little bit, though I won’t lie your dog coat might do you a touch better …” she regarded his canine coat. It was sleek, and healthy and thin … used to warm weather. “Though not much. Then again, if you want tea I think you’d enjoy it much more as a human.” She looked back to the steaming water. “It’s up to you.”
Her arm throbbed, but she ignored it. She rarely understood why she did things and what was more, she put even less time into studying them. She just did what she did – usually paid for it later but she was a closet optimist. It was simply better most days to take care of herself. She’d not see Yahweh in weeks.
“Tea will be ready here in a minute,” she poked at the burning sticks absently.