Set Fire to the Rain
02-11-2014, 01:42 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-11-2014, 01:43 PM by Flamesong.)
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here to relive your darkest moments The storm had been strong and fast in its arrival on Nephilim Island, and so Flamesong had followed the mass of Valhalla and swam mainland before the worst of it hit. He was now bracing his way through the barren hills trying to find...who knew what, really. His senses had led him here on a whim, and he felt like an absolute git for being so exposed in these elements. In his defense, he had brought a small bundle of herbs which he had wrapped in moss and bound tightly around his right forelimb. It was dark. Extremely dark and he was only making his way forward by scent and feel. He assumed he was almost out of the Barren Hills when the sky flashed white, and he was nearly blinded by it. In that quick flash of light, Flamesong was able to see a figure standing beneath tree, just before a large branch broke free and crashed down upon them. His fiery eyes opened wide and he found himself bolting towards the figure in what he would call a calm panic. His muscles tensed and pushed him forward with gusto, reaching the crumpled figure in brief moments. It was still drk, and hard to make out exactly what he was looking at, but his mind seemed to be playing a trick on him. He knew this girl. Peony? A pang of sorrow clutched at his heart, grief clawing its way back into his system. A soft whine escaped his jaws and he was brought back to the murder scene of his wife and the rest of his pack. Then another flash of lightning broke ahead and he was brought back to reality. Peony was dead. Had been dead for years. This was not Peony. But he knew her....Qanik? She was breathing. Panic replaced all grief and Flamesong shoved himself against the branch covering his friend. He was very careful not to rattle her too much in his attempts to free her. His healing instincts told him that if she had broken anything, she was in danger of getting worse if rattled too much. In one final heave, the branch rolled away from her and into the hellstorm. She still had not woken. Remembering the herbs he had brought, he bit through the bindings and began covering her smaller wounds with his small stash of medicinals. He examined her quickly and thoroughly and decided that she was not in danger of any broken limbs, miraculously. But the storm was raging, and he could feel stronger winds pulling at him and knew that he and Qanik needed to leave, fast. His mind raced and led him to grab the woman's scruff. He pulled her only two steps and then wedged himself beneath her, gently lying her body lengthwise along his own back so that her limbs hung limply over his sides. His muscles struggled with the extra weight but his adrenaline led him pushing onward. After what seemed like an hour, Flamesong found his way into a cave that was nestled into the side of a hill that seemed far enough away from the worst of the storms. He lie his friend gently down on the floor of the cave and shook out his pelt. It was cold, wet, and impossible to survive outside of the cave. He would have to keep watch. Fiery eyes aimed towards the cave mouth, Flamesong settled himself with his pelt pressed against his companion for warmth, hoping she would find the strength to waken soon. |
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