Belial and Marcus escaped and evaded the ursur with little fanfare or complaint; after all, it was already filling its own stomach. The young hybrid took a good approach, and Deimos sent the peryton to accompany him on the journey through cold air and skies, hoping something or someone else would be spotted as the rest of them sought to aid the ailing hunter. Deer and bird would discover portions of note beyond the outcropping; not even one hundred years away, were another two forms, though it was difficult to tell what was what at such heights.
The rest of them configured and contorted around the hunter – whom Deimos recognized instantly, shaking his head at the man whom he’d always known as “Bucket” Willingston. The hunter snorted in his direction, delirious but suitably unbothered in all the haste; too much blood loss and indifference coinciding with the cold. ”Oh, Warden. Is this all your doing then?” as he indicated to the sudden shifting of creatures all around him – Lyra opening bags and dragging over blankets, Calypso shifting to accompany the warmth. The Sword gave a huff at the inquiry, half-tempted to shift so he could answer, and perhaps ask, where the rest were and what had occurred.
Instead, Zuriel marched over, brow lowering in between the masses so she could start healing Bucket – while the Warden went to make room on the sled, maneuvering things around with his teeth so they’d be able to get the man over and start hauling to their next rotation and findings. We can start getting him on this, once he was stable – going back over so heat, guidance, and strength might be honed, presuming the individual could lean on each of them.
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Marcus and Belial have spotted something, and Lyra, Calypso, Deimos, and Zuriel have started taking care of ol’ Bucket.
The rest of them configured and contorted around the hunter – whom Deimos recognized instantly, shaking his head at the man whom he’d always known as “Bucket” Willingston. The hunter snorted in his direction, delirious but suitably unbothered in all the haste; too much blood loss and indifference coinciding with the cold. ”Oh, Warden. Is this all your doing then?” as he indicated to the sudden shifting of creatures all around him – Lyra opening bags and dragging over blankets, Calypso shifting to accompany the warmth. The Sword gave a huff at the inquiry, half-tempted to shift so he could answer, and perhaps ask, where the rest were and what had occurred.
Instead, Zuriel marched over, brow lowering in between the masses so she could start healing Bucket – while the Warden went to make room on the sled, maneuvering things around with his teeth so they’d be able to get the man over and start hauling to their next rotation and findings. We can start getting him on this, once he was stable – going back over so heat, guidance, and strength might be honed, presuming the individual could lean on each of them.
--
Marcus and Belial have spotted something, and Lyra, Calypso, Deimos, and Zuriel have started taking care of ol’ Bucket.
Deimos
we're all killers
