Closed Close Encounters of the Kelvic Kind (Edric)

[Skerry]

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When she got over the initial shock, the huntress had to laugh and whoop with delight. It was exhilarating being on eagle back, an experience that she didn't get an opportunity to try too often. Iona couldn't imagine what it must feel like to actually be the one flying but it was probably better. The Kelvic certainly seemed to enjoy judging by his aerial manoeuvres. The Avora couldn't say that she enjoyed them very much considering the precarious position she was in. She figured that Edric got the message from her hysterical screaming though because he resumed a normal flight pattern. The eagle turned to look at her, his words echoing in her head. While he was still looking, she stuck out her tongue in response, a slight smile curving her lips a moment later. Much as she hated to admit it while he was in his intimidating eagle form, Iona found that she quite liked Edric and his sense of humour.

You've got the hots for a bird, great, she told herself, ducking low as the winds battered her. He's not a bird all the time though. Sometimes he's a hot, naked guy, she argued with herself, smirking. She giggled at the thought, especially when she realised that she was arguing with herself. The sound was probably lost in the turbulent air currents. The huntress didn't need to hear the Kelvic's warning to know to hold onto him for dear life. She was at high risk of being blown off and she was highly aware of it. Clinging to his back, she couldn't see much with her face buried in his feathers and so she was surprised when they landed after a time.

The young woman slid off the eagle's back with very little grace, flailing and landing face first in the snow. To add insult to injury, her pack slipped over her head as well so that she had to untangle herself before she could stand, shivering from the cold.

"Thanks for the warning," she remarked bitterly, adjusting her various accoutrements so that she didn't look like she'd just landed awkwardly in snow. The white powder clinging to her hair and the front of her katinu didn't help this illusion of absolutely nothing happening so she gave up. "A storm? Why does a petching storm have to happen when I finally get a lift out into the Unforgiving? Ugh! Petch my life!" The huntress kicked at the snow, sending up flurries to be caught in the wind. Iona pushed her fingers through her hair, pushing it back as she did so. She frowned at the Kelvic and then asked the obvious question.

"So what are you going to do? Do you intend on taking me back, or...?" The woman bit her lip. She didn't finish the question and she didn't need to; he'd know what she meant.
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[Edric Wingard]

The Kelvic blinked at her, his golden irises seemingly shining with water as the wind battered their unprotected form. Not even flinching as the sting began to set in, the Eagle looked at her squarely, a look of utter exasperation overwhelming his usually chilly expression. Rather than act like a mature adult when faced with their troublesome situation, Wingard witnessed Iona kick the snow about childishly, her form horrid as she jerked around like a poorly controlled puppet.

Hypothesizing that she was likely to pull a muscle if she continued contorting about like a grounded fish, the rapture once again questioned his own intelligence since he was the idiot that thought bringing her would be beneficial to him.

Frown settling even further onto his mental face, the eagle let out an aggravated screech when it was proven that not only was she fooling around in the snow, but she hadn’t been listening to him either. Tsk’ing rather loudly which resulted in sounding more like a guttural hiss, Wingard kicked snow at her aggressively before deciding it would be best to just ignore the damn twit and get ready for their hunt. Transforming back into his human form, the man let out a growl as the frozen ground greeted his bare feet and sent alarming shivers up his spine. Quickly dropping his satchel to the floor, he picked out his clothing and slipped it on without preamble, disregarding the huntress’ presence for a moment in order to focus all his attention of retaining his dissipating warmth. Rubbing his hands up and down his clothed arms in an attempt to create enough friction to exude warmth, the man turned his golden gaze towards his companion as he spoke.

“If you, little thing, were listening to me rather than acting like a child, you would have noted my statement on our situation,” he started, his voice gruff and masculine as he tucked his head beneath a fold of his scarf, We will continue the hunt under the cover of the forest, but I suggest that along our way, we find a suitable shelter before the sun slips away.”

Removing two spider daggers from his pack, he shouldered the canvas before slipping the daggers into holsters upon his waist and ankle. The snow reflected the light brightly upon the sharpened metal, eliciting a blinding array of colours around him. Wingard scoffed as he tucked his pant legs over the dagger and tugged his katinu closer to his body. The wind, even down here was vindictive, circling around him in a turbulent attempt to steal all of his warmth. His frame fought it off bravely, hoarding its heat into his belly to hide it from such a gluttonous creature. Glancing back at Iona to see what she was up to, the man slowly made his way over and reached forward to take his sword back once again. It had been an utter treat to have someone carry it for him rather than having it as another decoration around his neck, but Wingard missed the feeling of the weighted steel against his leg so he quickly attached it back to his hip once more, only a small utterance of ‘I’m glad you were useful for something’ the only thank you she received.

Once he was ready, Wingard elegantly tucked his hands into another fold of his scarf and leaned backwards, his pose taking on one of casual relaxation as he spoke, “So, huntress. Although you have seemed like nothing more than unimpressive, I will allow you to lead on what I suspect will be a fruitless endeavour. Please, go ahead and direct your feathered pack mule. It would be an utter delight to be proven incorrect in this circumstance.”

[Skerry]

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The huntress couldn't help but take her annoyance out on something yet the eagle seemed to get annoyed at her display. She hadn't meant any harm by it and it certainly couldn't have bothered him but yet he was hissing at her. Iona stopped her tantrum to stare at him, caught somewhere between laughter and surprise as the bird kicked snow back at her. In one way, it was hilarious that the apparently serious Kelvic was responding in such a way but at the same time, laughter probably wouldn't lead to a very good reaction so she kept her mouth shut and straightened up looking sheepish.

Edric took no more notice of her though, instead readying himself for their journey through the trees, shifting to his human form. The young woman actually flinched at the sight of the naked man in the cold, not even able to bear the sight of it. It looked almost painful. He was dressed quickly enough, reprimanding her for her actions as if she was a child. She felt her face flush with embarrassment and she hoped that he wouldn't notice with the cool wind already battering her face.

"Yeah. Right. Sorry," she mumbled. "It sounds like a good plan." While he readied himself, the huntress wrapped her arms tightly around herself to keep her katinu close in an attempt to keep warm. Her weight shifted from foot to foot in a gesture of impatience as well as a way to keep some warmth circulating through her limbs. When he approached her, she was confused for a moment what he wanted having forgotten the sword at her hip but she unhooked it quickly to hand to him. His comment made her shoot a reproachful look at him but she doubted that he noticed.

"Be like that then," she muttered darkly, flipping her hair back. It was an action she instantly regretted. The strands had tangled unpleasantly during the flight and the flip had wrenched painfully at the knots making her wince. With great care and almost exaggerated slowness, the huntress began to comb her to hers through her hair, carefully untangling the strands as she did so. The Kelvic decided to be done while she was in the middle of this and seeing as she wasn't going to delay them any longer or risk untangling on the move, she abandoned the operation and looked coolly in his direction before turning her attention away from him to the environment.

Ordinarily this situation would have been resolved by punching him in the jaw to shut him but this wasn't an ordinary circumstance and so she'd just have to gain the upper hand by proving him wrong. She would lead them on this "fruitless endeavour" and if nothing came out of it, it wouldn't be her fault. Let him think what he bloody well liked.

Choosing a route not as densely wooded as the rest, Iona set off that way, her pace reasonable and her eyes on the ground so that she wouldn't miss any tracks. Now that she was hunting, she was not only focused but perfectly calm and was likely to stay that way unless the eagle aggravated her. If he did then he was an idiot and she'd probably throttle him if he put her off her game. That wasn't likely to happen too soon though. A trek of about half a bell brought no signs of animal passage and a gradual loss of light. It wouldn't be too long until darkness fell properly but it wasn't her fault that bells of light had been wasted arguing with various Endal.

"Keep an eye out for anywhere that might do as a shelter. It'll be dark soon and I haven't come across anything yet but it's too be-" The voice of the huntress, which had been pitched low, stopped abruptly and she moved to the left of where they'd been walking. Faint hoof prints were just visible in the snow at the edge of the undergrowth, the powder having been disturbed by the winds that still managed to permeate the woods. Even without the actual tracks, signs of animal passage were visible in the vegetation, which had been snapped in a few places. Dropping into a crouch, the young woman traced the contours of the print with a finger, frowning.

"I'm not sure if it's elk or deer. If the print was a bit clearer then I could manage it all right, otherwise that's as far as I can narrow it down. Unless you can? I'm sure your eyesight is keener than mine. Elk tracks are larger, rounder but I can't be sure with this. We can track it for a little bit but I suppose shelter is the key thing right now. Does my feathered "pack mule" have an opinion?" Iona murmured, her tone neutral as she straightened from her crouch to look at him. Her eyes were a cooler than her tone but there was no hostility in her manner, a little tension perhaps but mainly she was aiming for professionally detached.

OOCIt's entirely up to you whether you decide to make him see the difference in tracks or not. If you do though, the choice of elk or deer is also yours.
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[Edric Wingard]

As he watched her fight with the ridiculous amount of hair that was piled atop her head, Wingard could only shake his own at such a fruitless endeavor. He often wondered why the Inartan women generally kept their hair so long, the albeit beautiful tresses often swaying in the breeze – or in this case, blocking their vision with their erratic fluttering. In ceremonies or celebrations, long hair could only be utilized as a beautiful adornment, styled so prettily with feathers and beads, showcasing their vivacious culture, but out here, it was nothing more than a hindrance. It obscured one’s eyesight in its quest to resemble a rat’s nest upon one’s head, and thus, the Kelvic could only wonder about the practicality of it all. To him, it seemed obvious that while out hunting in such vicious weather, one would wear their hair tightly bound to their heads, but it seemed that not many others shared his opinion.

Tsk’ing out loud at the futility of such a motion, the rapture pulled his makeshift hood closer to his face as the winds began to pick up. Iona seemed to take on the leadership role easily enough, and Wingard found himself silently falling into step behind her without an issue. As they roamed through the forest, the Kelvic silently worried about their journey. His hypothesis that a storm was getting ready to settle in was beginning to prove itself to be correct, Zulrav’s thunderous voice echoing on the peripherals of his senses. He watched as the trees began to sway unsteadily, the crackling of bark and ice the only accent of noise in the deadened winter. Warily, he drew his eyes about, silently agreeing with the huntress’ comment about finding shelter soon. Already, he could sense the union of Syna and Leth, the darkening skies and pink horizon hinting at their temporary coupling.

Having a decent mental map of the Unforgiving, Wingard was not overly bothered about finding shelter. If they continued walking northeast, they were bound to find an outcropping of rock that was sheltered by fallen trees maybe a bell or two away. The likelihood of them arriving under the cover of Syna was a different story altogether. Most likely, it would be the capricious light of Leth they would have to rely on – which was not a comforting thought. Unlike the constant warmth that Syna presented, Leth was volatile in his rule; his emotions often getting the best of him at the worst possible moments. Couple his irritation with the arrival of Zulrav and the Kelvic was pretty sure they were going to be in for a rough night.

Frowning once again, the man drew his attention back to his companion, the abrupt fracturing of her sentence jolting him from his inner contemplations. Noting her crouched form and brushing of fingers, the young Eagle listened to her think out loud, sharing her findings with him easily. Leaning over her so that he could give his two pinions, Wingard noted the grooves of the imprint delicately. Unlike Iona who felt the need to bend down to study the print closely, the Kelvic found his position high above it satisfactory. His enhanced eyesight was easily an asset in a situation like this, he mused, and without wasting further time, he began his own study externally.

“Great deduction, huntress,” he began, his whispered words close to her ear, “I believe your assessment was rather spot on.”

Stepping away from Iona, he began looking about, his eyes scanning the open space ahead of him. Noting her pointed look towards the undergrowth, Wingard slowly edged towards it, disturbing the branches as he easily slid his body through with liquid grace. A mere rustle indicated his movement, the Kelvic bending low as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Scanning the ground, he glided his fingers over the newly discovered prints, taking in the deeper indentation that signified the animal’s struggle to break through the twisted branches. With these new prints, he was quite sure they were after a deer, rather than an elk. The indentation, although rather big, had the distinctive pointed toe of a White-tailed Deer. Letting out a quiet noise, Wingard pushed his hand back through the way he came, indicating for his companion to follow. Shuffling to the side to make room for her, Wingard closed the space between them to whisper his findings into her ear, his fingers splayed out towards the prints as he spoke, “I believe we’re on the trail of a deer, or rather a White-tailed Deer. See the sharpened toe at the forefront, or the rounded sides that nearly resembles a tear drop? I’m quite sure that that’s it.”

Not bothering to wait for her response, the young man began following the tracks through the underbrush, another assumption preying to be answered. As he moved, the hunter carefully side-stepped anything that would initiate a loud noise, knowing that right now, their only saving grace was the prey’s ignorance of their presence. Grunting when he contorted in a very uncomfortable manner, Wingard nearly let out a sigh of relief when he broke through the undergrowth and arrived at the other side. Taking a moment to clear the area before popping through, the Kelvic crawled through an opening in the brush and shuffled back into the unbidden snow. Grumbling as the wet ice greeted his bare stomach, Wingard hurriedly got back to his feet, muttering darkly all the while.

Once he finally scraped all the ice from his flesh, the hunter got back on track and began scouting the ground for the tracks once again. Catching sight of them a few meters away, he quickly glided over. Detecting that they were the same size and design as the previous ones Iona and he had discovered, Wingard turned back to his fellow huntress, "Generally, elk travel in herds. From what I can see through these prints, there is no indication of more than one animal at the moment, so I believe we’re chasing a lone deer. We have perhaps a bell and half chimes before Leth takes over the sky. The shelter I know of is further northeast than that. Huntress, shall we risk the night?”

[Skerry]

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The Kelvic was quick to give his assessment of the situation as he leaned over her, his warm breath tickling her ear as he whispered. The compliment of her skills made her flush with pleasure, glad that he was finally able to see her worth. Stepping away, he moved in the direction she’d indicated, examining the trail further in. She was amazed that he could even see them but apparently, his eagle eyesight transferred over. Iona had to admit that she was quite jealous of that fact but she was glad that she could utilise his skill now when it was truly needed.

The huntress waited for some sort of indication about whether or not she ought to follow and he didn’t keep her waiting long. A hand gesture led her through the brush and into a dim space. Blinking as her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting, she could make out Edric and little else. The lighting didn’t impair the eagle in the same way as not only could he see the tracks but could apparently see them in minute detail. Yes, she was definitely jealous. She let out a low laugh, shaking her head in disbelief.

”Well, I can’t see it but what you’re describing certainly sounds like it’s a White-tailed Deer, all right,” she replied but he was already off again, hardly listening to her. So much for her taking the lead. The huntress followed him quietly, allowing him the lead role without protest. His superior eyesight would be far more useful than hers for tracking, so there was no point shooting herself in the foot out of a selfish desire to be in control. Besides it allowed her a chance to laugh silently at him as he crawled through the undergrowth, sliding through snow. It wasn’t so funny when she had to follow him however, but she followed him quickly, wincing as the wet substance clung to her katinu and seemed to seep through, bringing the cold with it. Like her companion, Iona was quick to get to her feet and shake the ice and snow from her garments.
The young woman had to wait for him to resume tracking, hugging herself to keep warm and hopping from foot to foot until he was ready to go again. He was quick to catch sight of the tracks again and offered her further information on the situation, giving her something more to do than just follow him around like a loyal dog.

”That sounds about right and it’s something we should be able to bring down if we get close enough to it,” the young woman commented, her eyes on the sky as she spoke. ”But you’re right, we don’t have that much time. We could go after the deer and maybe get a shot at it before the light vanishes completely but then we’d have to stumble around in the dark with a bleeding deer looking for shelter. We can’t have that though or else we’d have every predator nearby on top of us.” Iona bit her lip in thought, shaking her head as she came to a decision that she clearly didn’t like. ”I hate to say it but I think we’ll have to find shelter first and then go hunting in the morning. You’d better lead the way to this shelter of yours unless you think continuing is worth the risk?”
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[Edric Wingard]

Like Iona, the idea of calling it quits when they were so close was a bitter pill to swallow. A deer would be a welcomed kill to Wind Reach’s food stores, its voluptuous rump and fatty body providing not only meat for the people, but other amenities such as candles as well. But his fellow hunter had been right; even if they were capable of making a clean kill, lugging the dead carcass about would be far more trouble than it was worth. Glancing up at the turbulent skies seemed to only prove his thoughts as the wind blew viciously, battering the trees and cliffs with an angered yowl. Ever since the Despised had been proven to be hiding out in Wind Reach, Zulrav had been unrepentant in his ill feelings towards the Inarta and their incapability to find him. Attempting to fly through this would be hazardous; the winds unyielding as they changed their direction and strength so suddenly that riding them out with not only Iona, but also an additional body near impossible. Wingard was confident enough to assume that he’d be able to complete such a task on his own with a large amount of trouble, but with anything dislodging his aerodynamic body, he felt like it would be certain death.

Rubbing the feathers that emerged from the side of his head, the rapture nodded his head in assent to Iona, “To my chagrin, I have to agree. I would not be able to maneuver through the night in the air with you, let alone a carcass, in this weather. Let us follow the tracks as long as they bare northeast and mark our journey so that when we have to part from it, we may be able to find our way back in the morning. With luck, even if the tracks are gone, the deer will leave a different trail to follow.”

Waiting for her agreement with such a plan, the Kelvic began once again following the tracks. He stepped lightly as he walked, attempting to minimize the telling crunch of snow beneath his feet. It was a rather useless practice, but the hunter tried anyway, knowing that any little bit helped. His movements were swift though as they travelled, keen eyes darting upwards towards the skies as little by little, Syna slipped away. At random points in their journey, the Avora would remove his dagger from his waist and slash a nearby tree, scraping the bark from the trunk in order to mark their journey. The eagle relished in their silence as they travelled, knowing that such quiet was scarce in a city as boisterous as Wind Reach. The wind was the only sound around them, the birds far gone as they escaped the cold. Eerily, Wingard knew that such a disappearance from the weaker of his race was ominous, and his eyes darted around quickly as he continued to monitor the changing weather around them. Already, the air around them was dropping, the temperature freezing the moisture in his breath each time he breathed. Every inhale cut away at his throat, prickling his tongue and chaffing his lips. He yearned to lick at them to relieve such a sensation but knew that such an action would only result in more pain for him later.

He didn’t bother vocalizing his findings to Iona. Although she was not as in tune to the weather as he, an animal, was, he figured that her numb fingers would be indication enough that something big was coming. His instincts had him heavily on edge, driving him to find shelter as quickly as possible. As they left the path the deer had left in order to bring them closer to the outcropping Wingard knew of, the rapture had a strong feeling in his gut that that would not be enough. They needed something better to protect them from this; something with solid walls that didn’t rely on barren trees for protection. Hissing out his distress at such a realization, the Eagle yanked his head to the left as he tried to recalculate their position and the closest shelters possible that would fit his criteria. The one cave he knew of was too far away for them to make it to, he thought quickly, his mind racing as he mapped out the geography. The other option was closer, but he was unsure if they’d make it to it in time if the brunt of what he was beginning to realize was going to be a bad storm, set in.

Turning towards Iona, he took in her shivering appearance and tried to figure out their options. Travelling in this weather, let alone in the dark would be futile. He would not be able to fly in it either, so it was obvious that they were going to be grounded for such an expedition. And even though they had been keeping a rather quick pace thus far, it would not be the case when the storm blew in. Taking in the factor of fatigue and hunger as well, they would be left too vulnerable for a successful journey to the cave he knew was five kilometers away. They had to travel to their initial point. Letting out a growl at such futility, Wingard finally consulted the huntress over his hypothesis, his body still moving forward as he spoke, refusing to waste any of their precious time, “Huntress, the absence of my lesser brethren speaks of a need for immediate cover. The wind carries tales of Morwen’s incoming presence that the shelter I know of will not protect us from. Keep your eyes open for any alternatives, but we must keep moving. It is all that we have and we can perhaps use it to our advantage.”

His voice was rising as he spoke over the winds and as the sudden onset of snow began to fall, Wingard’s stomach leapt upwards into his throat.

[Skerry]

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Iona was not the only one who was bitter about forfeiting a potential kill. It was clear that the Kelvic didn't want to abandon the possibility of getting meat either but like her, Edric saw the folly of continuing pursuit. His suggestion that they try to pick up a new trail in the morning provided some hope but the huntress still found herself feeling despondent as she reluctantly nodded her assent. Picking up the trail in the first place had been a piece of good luck but trying to pick it again after the passing of so many bells and with rough weather in the near future, seemed a near impossibility. Her lack of optimism was well founded, her view realistic if nothing else.

The huntress followed him in silence and the eagle made no effort to strike up a conversation instead allowing Zulrav to fill the trees around them with his displeasure. The winds were certainly beginning to howl, gusts shaking snow from branches and dropping the air by degrees as time went on. The gradual departure of Syna did little to help the chill, not only light lost in her departure but warmth as well. It was going to be a bitter night and she had to hope that their shelter would form some sort of enclosure or else they were likely to freeze. They'd most likely have to huddle close for warmth, an idea that the huntress was far from adverse towards considering her current company.

Even not counting the wind, the silence could not be considered total. The slight crunch of snow underfoot accompanied the moan of the winds but neither were that intrusive to Iona's inner thoughts. However, the sound of Edric's knife was a rude intrusion. It didn't intrude too often but the sudden grating of it against bark every so often set her nerves on edge although it didn't seem to bother the Kelvic in the slightest. Surely Wind Eagles had acute hearing as well so it must have been irritating him more than her, right? But no, he didn't even seem to notice. She knew he needed to leave some sort of marking but she was sure that he didn't have to be so loud about it. The young woman came close to complaining about it after awhile but she assumed that he'd say something smart in reply and she'd end up seeming like an idiot in his mind.

His senses were easily more acute than hers (not that that would have been hard to accomplish considering his unfair enhancements) as he had been able to discern a coming storm whereas Iona hadn't. Even as they kept travelling onwards, the young woman found it difficult to find any signs of an impending storm. The winds were picking up and the temperatures were changing but that meant little to her. She was unused to being attentive to normal forest sounds but she had picked up on the unnatural silence, although the significance of it was lost to her. Subconsciously though the signs had sunk in somewhat even if her conscious mind was unaware of them. As they headed north east, she couldn't help but feel uneasy, the hairs on the back of neck prickling as the pressure changed. The only reaction that the girl had was to shiver, partly from cold and partly from a feeling of dread.

Her unease grew as they took a path away from the deer tracks and after awhile the man turned to her, the expression on his face doing nothing to alleviate her dread. He didn't say anything at first, a number of expressions flitting across his features. Annoyance, exasperation, resignation crossed his face before he finally spoke, telling her of his fears concerning the weather. Again she had no idea how he knew and it took her a chime to work out what he meant by his 'lesser brethren'. When she realised that he meant birds, the unnatural silence around her finally made an impact in her mind. If there was a storm coming now...

"Wait... if where we're going isn't sufficient, do you not know anywhere better? Or do you know somewhere else but it's too far off?" she called over the winds, which had begun to pick up. Before her companion could answer flurries of snow began to descend on their heads and within moments it had become considerably heavier, obscuring anything more than a few inches ahead of them. "I think that we may need to look for something a little closer to be honest!" the woman added loudly, brushing a hand across her face to clear the flakes collecting on her eyelashes. The huntress could just about make out where the Kelvic was and it would be so easy for them to get separated if this level of snow, coupled with the wind, continued.

"Maybe stopping and making a shelter might be a good idea before something happens to one of us. Don't know about you but maybe it isn't worth risking. It'd be so easy to- Petch! Ow!" Iona had been forced to a standstill when her foot slipped through the snow into a hole. She tried to twist it out but felt something dig into it when she did that so the girl stopped and called out to Edric for help instead.
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[Edric Wingard]

The snow descended fast and furiously, coating the earth once again in its obscure version of softness. Rather than the unique, fat snowflakes that fell gently, the icy winds froze the water further, pelting the fellow hunters so angrily that the Eagle found himself squinting to protect his eyes from the assault. Already, he could barely make out his companion; her figure obscured behind thousands of tiny ice pellets that threatened his vision and taunted his inability to stop them. Grudgingly he growled at their successfulness; his voice thick but lost upon the winds of Zulrav as he spurned on Morwen’s assault gleefully. All around them, the winds whistled, picking up every sound and delivering it away with a vicious bite that reddened the skin. He could barely make out the coherent shouts of Iona before suddenly registering her high-octave yelp of profanity.

Rushing forward, the man rigorously battered away the snow and ice as it slammed into the exposed skin of his body. He hissed softly at such connection, but ignored it in order to discern the huntress’ condition. Her cry for help worried him as he knew the woman was just as independent as he and even asking for assistance was equivalent to pulling teeth. Not touching her immediately, the Kelvic took in the situation. Her foot seemed to disappear beneath the heavy snow; the pristine white surface crushed and dirtied. Frowning, he crouched down, inwardly annoyed at having to expose his body even more to such frigidness but knowing that his exposure fell to a secondary position compared to his companion’s.

Using his bare hands, he dug the snow away from the hole that her foot was in, unveiling a deep burrow that had the potential to be abandoned. Idly, he thought that it may have belonged to a hare, but he didn’t focus on such trivialities. Slipping his hand into the exposed dirt, he gingerly picked away the stray leaves that obscured his vision, his fingers so frozen that they stung with such ferocity that it made his eyes water. It felt like he was jamming needles into the calloused pads, but he didn’t stop his onslaught. The longer they were out here exposed, the less time they had to find shelter before this storm truly hit. Seeing the way that her foot seemed to be twisted beneath an unearthed root in a rather grotesque manner, the rapture guessed that when the ground collapsed beneath her (she needed to learn how to walk delicately) the root had been well, uprooted and resulted in this fiasco. Unsure of the actual status of her ankle, Wingard was hesitant to just pull it out by force. The last thing they needed was for a sprain to turn into a fracture or break. The best course of action would be to cut through the root to free her foot and then examine it when they were under some cover.

It was obvious to him that although his initial idea for shelter was close, if this injury was something serious; they were going to have to blow that idea out the window. Silently he prayed for fortitude in their situation – hoped that the worst they were going to have to deal with was a light sprain – but if the man was anything, he was practical. They needed to plan for the worst case scenario. Looking somewhat forlornly down at the dagger that lay abandoned in the snow, the man reached for it; pouting inwardly at the idea of dulling such a blade by callously hacking away at forestry. However, if Iona couldn’t put weight on her leg, a simple root would be the least of his worries – he’d be facing branches.

Gripping the dagger, Wingard willed his fingers to close tightly around the exposed handle. It was beyond freezing; the metal so cold beneath his frozen fingertips that he felt like it was morphing onto his skin. Hissing in pain, he tightened his hold, his teeth chattering shamelessly at this point, as he quickly drew the blade over the root. He had to be careful hacking away so that he did not add further to her injury. Cutting as quickly as his strength would allow, he broke the remaining attaching veins of the root before grasping her calf and pulling. Easily her foot was freed, the Kelvic’s firm hold on her calf ensuring that she didn’t go flying with such release of inertia. Delicately, he placed her foot on the ground, hopping to his feet like a bunny rabbit as he skittered closer to her. At this point the snow was beginning to change trajectory and fall perpendicular to the earth causing Wingard to stare widely around. They needed to move now.

“Can you walk on it?” He shouted, his voice sounding strange even to his own ears. The winds’ ability to pick it up and carry it were one thing, but he noted the distinct note of hysteria that seemed to be hiding beneath the surface. Taking a deep breath he collected himself. Unlike Iona would had limited senses and was now possibly immobile, he had full control of his abilities. The last thing they needed was for him to lose his cool when he had the opportunity to get them out of this godforsaken situation. As he waited for her answer, the eagle figured it really didn’t matter. Although he had a wonderful sense of direction, his inability to distinguish north from south was concerning. If he faced the same way as Iona, then they would need to head straight and right in order to reach the known shelter. It was subpar at best with these conditions, but at least it had a solid back wall to work with. In addition, he could cut down some thicker branches and use them to further protect their exposed arses from the wind and snow. If his calculations were correct, they were less than half a kilometer away from their destination.

If Iona was capable, he’d rather head there. The trek would be harder, but at least they had something to work with and build from rather than aimlessly searching for something closer when they could barely see their hands held out before him. Obviously the snow hindered his vision when searching for the opposing shelter as well, but at least he could rely on past excursions there to assist him in locating it. He hated this situation, he mused bitterly, his eyes flying across Iona as he assessed her, but there was nothing they could do about it so they had to adapt. Thinking back, he tried to recall any other places they had passed previously that could have been considered okay shelters. His mind racing, he relived their journey through the brush, passing the trees he marked until he remembered briefly spotting raised ground with a fallen tree resting across it. It was far closer than the other shelter, and his marked trees should help guide their way back, he thought quickly. But he did not know of the snow that may have congregated against the raised floor or if it would be suitable for two people. They would have to sit closely, he imagined, which wasn’t a big deal considering that if they wanted to live, communal body heat was their friend, and it did block the current direction of wind.

Hmm’ing thoughtfully, Wingard made his mind up. If she said she could put weight on it, then they would head for the original shelter. Otherwise, if Iona was incapacitated they would backtrack and try their luck at the other location. Either way, they were in some deep shyke.

[Skerry]

e
Despite her shame of getting herself entrapped, the huntress was more than happy to accept the assistance of the Kelvic. She'd have a chance to hang her head about it later but for now she was just glad to have him help her out of this situation. Wrapping her arms around herself as he stood and accessed things, Iona wished that he'd just hurry up and get on with it before they caught their ends. A sigh of relief escaped her as he finally crouched down to get a better view of where her ankle was trapped. All she could see was the snow around the limb and nothing else. She knew that it was trapped down some sort of hole, probably an old burrow and that something had been caught around her ankle but she had no idea what hid beneath the surface. As the eagle began to dig around it with his bare hands, things gradually began to come into view although it was still difficult to make anything out clearly with the snow battering them from what seemed like all angles.

The man's digging seemed to reveal a root of some sort though she couldn't understand how her foot had arrived beneath it. What she did know however was that trying to move it herself was probably a bad idea. She couldn't make out his expression so she couldn't tell if the situation was worse than it seemed or not. The chill from the snow was making her foot go numb so she wasn't sure if she'd be getting away with a minor injury or a major one. The Avora was only likely to find out once she tested it and for the moment, her foot was still jammed in a burrow.

An object appeared in her companion's hand, one that she thought he might have taken from his belt. With the way he held it, it looked suspiciously like a dagger. Oh great, he was going to try to cut her free. The idea made her more nervous than it ought to have. Perhaps the fact that her own fingers were numb made her worry about how he was even going to grip the weapon, let alone use it. His hands had been pawing through the snow so surely he'd have little to no feeling in them. And he was going to try to cut through the root like that?

I'm not going to have a foot by the end of this, am I?

Despite her misgivings, the huntress didn't have much choice in the matter and so putting her trust in her fellow hunter was essential. Although when he began to saw into the root, she found herself unable to look as the root proceeded to rub against her foot in response to Edric's work. Unwrapping her arms from around herself, she placed a tentative hand on the shoulder of the other in order to keep her balance and bit her lip anxiously as she waited for her foot to come free. When it did escape its bonds, she was glad that she'd chosen to grab the man for without warning, he grabbed her leg and pulled, an act that would have had her in a heap without his support. Her foot was placed delicately on the ground and then her companion was back on his feet once more.

Iona was nervous about trying to walk, fearing the worst but the weather wouldn't allow her the luxury of time to dally. She had no idea how far this shelter was away and if there was anything wrong with her foot then she was going to be in serious trouble. She didn't know until she tried though so she took a tentative step, shockwaves shooting out from her ankle as soon as she made contact with the ground. The woman wanted to scream but she didn't though she was sure that her face would have betrayed her pain in normal circumstances. She was hoping that her companion wouldn't see it through the onslaught of snow. The pain was probably dulled a bit as well because of the cold but surely that would help her walk the remaining distance without keeling over in agony. Her slowness could be explained away by the weather conditions and terrain. It couldn't be that hard to fool him, right?

"I can walk. It hurts some though," she told him after a moment of breathing through the pain. It wasn't a lie exactly but it wasn't the whole truth either. "How far is it to this shelter of yours? We'd want to get there fairly soon if we want to have any chance of getting shelter tonight."
e

[Edric Wingard]

The furious winds ripped past the Kelvic’s face, catching his over-sensitive skin and rubbing it raw. It seemed determined to mar the flesh that he held so dear, scraping away at it until it was nothing but reddened, beaten skin. Tears were pricking at his eyes at this point; the Avora squinting heavily as he tried to protect the delicate extremities from the withering cold, but it hardly seemed to help. Zulrav was taking advantage of any quarter he gave, slipping in between the tiny slits he had left and brushing against them with tiny pieces of ice. Wingard wanted to scream at such pain but knowing that such an outburst would simply get carried away by the unrepentant god and most likely cause pleasure, the man kept it in; clenching his teeth together tightly and taking the beating without a sound.

Drawing closer to his companion, Wingard attempted to spy the huntress through the flurries of snow but knew that in this circumstance he could hardly be led by his eyes. Her form was an obscure vision of herself, the snow cutting lines and shapes upon her features until the eagle could merely make out her figure and nothing more. Reaching out, he grasped onto her arm and pulled her tightly to him, hoping that by minimizing the distance, he’d be able to better hear the garbled words that were previously escaping him. The man was sure that she was speaking clearly, but with Zulrav’s interference, it was like she was speaking another language entirely. Yelling back at her to repeat what she had previously said, he rested the side of his head against hers; forgoing reading her lips with his hindered vision and deciding it was simply best to hear what she had to say.

He was inwardly cringing at the loss of his personal space, but his petty quirks had to fall second in this situation, so he did not flinch as her lips grazed his own ear as she answered him once again. Wingard raised his eyebrows slightly as she confirmed she was fine, his head bobbing downwards in a futile attempt to reaffirm her statement. Considering he couldn’t really see anything, the eagle inwardly growled in frustration over having lost one of his key senses. It bothered him that he was so helpless; Iona’s words were all he had to rely on over her condition. The concept of trusting another was foreign to the lone eagle, but he battled away his instinctual need to pull away from her and once again get on the ground and check for himself. His hands, already so cold that he could no longer feel the appendages spoke volumes for the poor state he was already in. He needed to trust that she knew her own threshold of pain and was allowing him to get them to safety. Later, when they were safely tucked away in the overhang he wanted to reach, he would then gauge her condition for himself.

Pushing the rest of his thoughts aside, the Kelvic resolutely went into survival mode. Tucking himself under the same armpit that rested over her injured ankle, the man fairly hoisted her onto her tippy-toes as he began walking in the direction of the shelter. The snow was really beginning to pick up, he noted crossly, forgoing the previously light footsteps he had adopted while they hunted in favour of a gait that resembled a crude trudge. Iona’s additional weight wasn’t that overwhelming, but dragging her through the snow so that she could keep up with his pace was taxing on his endurance. Soon, he found himself concentrating on his breathing, the ragged breathes deep and pained as his lungs practically screamed as the icy air cut away at them. He did not stop, however, as the adrenaline pumped through his veins and pushed him forward towards their destination. Wingard knew that they were potentially facing a life or death situation, so simply being out of breath was the least of his worries.

Scanning as far ahead as he could, the man found himself still gripping the dagger loosely in his hand. Looking down at it briefly, he noted the purple-tinge of colour his fingers were beginning to take and swiftly tucked it back into his pouch. As much as he would have liked to mark their progress through the snow, holding on to the cold metal that was absorbing the frigid air like he wanted to suck the heat out of Iona’s body and hoard it all to himself, was beginning to do a number on his already frozen appendages. Gasping, Wingard ignored the sharp tingles of pain that coursed through the pads of his fingers and tucked them deeply into his katinu, cringing as they came in contact with the warmth that was circulated through his chest. He tucked the hand in-between his armpit and Iona, hoping that with such pressure from both their bodies, the pain would dull enough to a manageable amount.

He did not know how long they had travelled before he found himself looking up and nearly letting out a sigh of relief as he spotted a familiar landmark. The deep gash that already resided in the tall evergreen tree indicated a previous journey he had previously taken through this area. The sight was a welcomed one as it showed that they were on the correct path to the shelter and he silently thanked whatever god it was that allowed them this fortitude. The eagle had tried to direct them as close to the large trees as he could as they had travelled; figuring that their best bet was to attempt to find the markers he had left during previous hunts. He had tried to tuck Iona as close to the trees as possible as well, hoping that it would provide them some shelter from Zulrav, while giving him an additional set of eyes for the familiar gashes. Turning towards her, he tried to gauge her condition as he shouted and pointed towards the gash, “You see that?” he panted, “Look for those. They’ll be on your right-hand side. We-we’re almost there. Look for a rock face. That’s where we’re going.”

Wingard was fairly gasping for air at this point, his lungs working in overdrive as they tried to compensate for his franticly beating heart. Forcing himself to breathe through his nose rather than his mouth, the eagle attempted to warm the oxygen that entered his lungs. It was easier to breathe by doing this, so the eagle took a moment to get control of his erratic heart rate before forcing himself onwards. His body was tiring too quickly, he thought, the muscles in his legs twitching involuntarily with each step he took. Looking up towards the right, the Kelvic simply hoped that either he or Iona would spot the rock face. He was beginning to lean on her for support which only indicated the sad truth that if they didn’t get there soon – they most likely wouldn’t get there at all.