Marcus, ever the seeker in these pursuits, drifted amidst the difficult terrain, peering through brushes of snow and wind, struggling to find the potential source of the sound. Just when it seemed that perhaps they were all hearing things, two individuals seemed to unfurl from the Siberian haze, one more distinct than the other. The first was a limping luxere, the glow of its horns providing the angle in which Marcus could see further – led (barely) by a tripping, falling person – the younger hybrid would know him too – Dom Pears. Both seemed a little worse for wear, but carrying on; Dom’s nose appeared to be frostbitten at the very least.
Meanwhile, mending and patching and healing persisted amidst the warmth of hellhounds, Lyra, and Calypso enough to rouse the two – starting to blink and mumble incoherently. Knowing time was of the essence, and they’d done as much as they could here, the Sword sighed. Carefully put them on the sled too. There’d be some unfortunate dragging amongst the soldiers and animals, but he snagged at the sled to get closer access, Bucket extending a hand as well from his current perch.
--
Marcus has one our last hunter and their luxere! Help load the other two onto the sled with Bucket.
Meanwhile, mending and patching and healing persisted amidst the warmth of hellhounds, Lyra, and Calypso enough to rouse the two – starting to blink and mumble incoherently. Knowing time was of the essence, and they’d done as much as they could here, the Sword sighed. Carefully put them on the sled too. There’d be some unfortunate dragging amongst the soldiers and animals, but he snagged at the sled to get closer access, Bucket extending a hand as well from his current perch.
--
Marcus has one our last hunter and their luxere! Help load the other two onto the sled with Bucket.
Deimos
we're all killers
