Timestamp: Spring 1, 512
With the hatchling in her arms, Vira began the walk through the corridor, trying not to listen to the world ending. It was absolute chaos. Those like her that had been caught out of somewhere sheltered were experiencing hell on Mizahar. The mountain quivered all around them and where it did not quake, it spewed noxious fumes and in some cases lava, heat funneling horribly through the warrens to cut or kill people off. For Vira, she was trying to reach others beyond where the hatchling had appeared, but the obstacles before her made that nearly impossible.
In front of the sixteen year old lay a minefield of steam and fallen rocks and bodies. From one wall spilled a steady flow of red but did not boil and steam like other water sources inside the city. Among the minefield, the young woman was able to notice some people moving, very few of them uninjured. The smell of spoilt eggs and blood was nauseating and the dust irritated her eyes and nose, making her snort and sneeze and the hatchling squirm uncomfortably in her arms. “Hey, easy now girly, you’re okay. We just need to get to the other side of this.”
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Vira stepped forth into the chaos. Smoke clogged her sinuses until she was forced to breathe through her mouth, drawing the ash and dust motes deeper into her lungs and leaving her wondering if she would have to see the healers when it was over. The hatchling clearly did not like this and began to squirm even more in her arms. “Ah, easy!” She cried out, struggling with the young bird until it had had all it was going to take and wriggled its way out of her grip entirely.
The eaglet landed hard on the ground and then took off waddling and running the way they had come, away from where Vira wanted to go. “Petch, come on now, we need to get you back to somewhere safe! There’s no way out that way!” She cried out, but the chick heard none of it, fleeing back down the tunnel in the awkward gait of a young bird. The youth let out a great sigh and rubbed her hand through her messed up hair, head shaking. “Well…I need to get to somewhere more safe than here…” With a sigh, she turned back to the tunnel and continued up the corridor.
All around her, the cries of the injured and sometimes dying could be heard, but for all that her heart went out to them, the teen had no skills with which to help. She had to get to somewhere safe; maybe they would have someone who could help. When ash began to deaden the light, Vira backed back out to a clearer spot and bent to tear some of her bryda off from a rip that had already been made. The soft material had lost some of its silkiness and was now caked in mud and water and more ash.
With this piece which she had torn free, the teen covered her mouth, knotting it behind her head to create something she could more effectively breathe through. Only then did she move forward into the ash cloud, squinting against the burning grit that irritated her working and dead eye both. She put her hand against the wall, the heat from it making her nervous that a lava vent had worked its way through this part and might burst through at any point. The oft unpredictable nature of Skyinarta was well known to its residents.
She pushed through the cloud and finally emerged on the other side, coughing violently and even bending over to gag, emptying the light breakfast she’d had onto the ground. It spilled out across the stone in a bile-rich spray that evaporated almost as quickly in the thick and nauseating heat. When she was sure she would not keel over, she slowly straightened, holding her head and groaning. About that moment, she heard a faint groan down and ahead of her, someone it sounded that was near rubble. But the tunnel was dark and hard to see in.
“Hello?” She called, concerned. The voice had sounded faintly familiar and she worried that it might be someone she knew. “If you can hear me, groan again!”
That sounded stupid…groan again? Really?
Yet, it must have worked because up ahead, the groan came once more, but louder. The young woman hurried ahead, panting from the low oxygen content of the tunnel and stumbling when her shoes caught against a stone. She caught herself, however, before falling and laughed a weak, relieved laugh only to turn and trip again. This time, the young woman fell hard on her face, nose breaking and fresh blood gushing down her face. “Aah!” She cried out in pain, rolling and holding her nose.
Red life poured out and around her impeding fingers as if in rebellion of their attempted enclosure, mocking her in the course it marched down her face. “Ffff, oowwww.” She groaned, sitting up but continuing to pinch her nose. But it was another groan that answered her in the dimness and Vira paused in her own misery to look around, frowning and sputtering a bit when the blood pooled in her mouth. She turned her head and spat, jumping when she realized she’d spat right into the face of the one who’d been groaning.
With the hatchling in her arms, Vira began the walk through the corridor, trying not to listen to the world ending. It was absolute chaos. Those like her that had been caught out of somewhere sheltered were experiencing hell on Mizahar. The mountain quivered all around them and where it did not quake, it spewed noxious fumes and in some cases lava, heat funneling horribly through the warrens to cut or kill people off. For Vira, she was trying to reach others beyond where the hatchling had appeared, but the obstacles before her made that nearly impossible.
In front of the sixteen year old lay a minefield of steam and fallen rocks and bodies. From one wall spilled a steady flow of red but did not boil and steam like other water sources inside the city. Among the minefield, the young woman was able to notice some people moving, very few of them uninjured. The smell of spoilt eggs and blood was nauseating and the dust irritated her eyes and nose, making her snort and sneeze and the hatchling squirm uncomfortably in her arms. “Hey, easy now girly, you’re okay. We just need to get to the other side of this.”
Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Vira stepped forth into the chaos. Smoke clogged her sinuses until she was forced to breathe through her mouth, drawing the ash and dust motes deeper into her lungs and leaving her wondering if she would have to see the healers when it was over. The hatchling clearly did not like this and began to squirm even more in her arms. “Ah, easy!” She cried out, struggling with the young bird until it had had all it was going to take and wriggled its way out of her grip entirely.
The eaglet landed hard on the ground and then took off waddling and running the way they had come, away from where Vira wanted to go. “Petch, come on now, we need to get you back to somewhere safe! There’s no way out that way!” She cried out, but the chick heard none of it, fleeing back down the tunnel in the awkward gait of a young bird. The youth let out a great sigh and rubbed her hand through her messed up hair, head shaking. “Well…I need to get to somewhere more safe than here…” With a sigh, she turned back to the tunnel and continued up the corridor.
All around her, the cries of the injured and sometimes dying could be heard, but for all that her heart went out to them, the teen had no skills with which to help. She had to get to somewhere safe; maybe they would have someone who could help. When ash began to deaden the light, Vira backed back out to a clearer spot and bent to tear some of her bryda off from a rip that had already been made. The soft material had lost some of its silkiness and was now caked in mud and water and more ash.
With this piece which she had torn free, the teen covered her mouth, knotting it behind her head to create something she could more effectively breathe through. Only then did she move forward into the ash cloud, squinting against the burning grit that irritated her working and dead eye both. She put her hand against the wall, the heat from it making her nervous that a lava vent had worked its way through this part and might burst through at any point. The oft unpredictable nature of Skyinarta was well known to its residents.
She pushed through the cloud and finally emerged on the other side, coughing violently and even bending over to gag, emptying the light breakfast she’d had onto the ground. It spilled out across the stone in a bile-rich spray that evaporated almost as quickly in the thick and nauseating heat. When she was sure she would not keel over, she slowly straightened, holding her head and groaning. About that moment, she heard a faint groan down and ahead of her, someone it sounded that was near rubble. But the tunnel was dark and hard to see in.
“Hello?” She called, concerned. The voice had sounded faintly familiar and she worried that it might be someone she knew. “If you can hear me, groan again!”
That sounded stupid…groan again? Really?
Yet, it must have worked because up ahead, the groan came once more, but louder. The young woman hurried ahead, panting from the low oxygen content of the tunnel and stumbling when her shoes caught against a stone. She caught herself, however, before falling and laughed a weak, relieved laugh only to turn and trip again. This time, the young woman fell hard on her face, nose breaking and fresh blood gushing down her face. “Aah!” She cried out in pain, rolling and holding her nose.
Red life poured out and around her impeding fingers as if in rebellion of their attempted enclosure, mocking her in the course it marched down her face. “Ffff, oowwww.” She groaned, sitting up but continuing to pinch her nose. But it was another groan that answered her in the dimness and Vira paused in her own misery to look around, frowning and sputtering a bit when the blood pooled in her mouth. She turned her head and spat, jumping when she realized she’d spat right into the face of the one who’d been groaning.
