50th Spring - 516 AV - Fountain Plaza - 11th Bell
'Chra was frantic. What had started as a normal enough day, granted there might have been a little bit of sulking still going on regarding the brand, had suddenly and inexplicably degenerated. She'd been hanging about the Fountain Plaza, since the fountains were fun to play in and one could usually count on someone throwing bread or some other treat when she'd suddenly been consumed by unprompted terror. It had taken her awhile to realize it wasn't hers as she huddled, shivering, feathers fluffed on the ground. But once she had, once she realized her Bondmate was in danger, fear was replaced with a mad sort of desperate rage.
She'd gotten a brief idea of direction and she was gone. Wings beating madly. No real idea where she was going, no idea what she'd find when she got there, didn't matter. She'd kill whatever scared her Bond so. Tear with her talons, peck out it's eyes. Without even meaning to, her beak parted and an alarm cry was sounded. Not the one that told other Ravens to flee, the one that would have called them to attack had she been part of a conspiracy. Ravens had two social structures however. When young they lived in groups with other young ravens. Gangs really. An unruly mob of feathered teenage hooligans. Then the reached adulthood and assuming they weren't urban, either staked out a solo territory, or found a mate to whom they bonded and stayed with for the rest of their lives. This meant Kelvic and Raven nature were in perfect agreement about the need to find and defend Wikus, who had fallen into that role regardless of how he felt about it.
The call ripped itself out of her again, her wildly pumping wings having already taken her out of the damnable city and into the marshes. Quite frankly she wasn't sure which she disliked more, Kenash or marshes. Both were terrible and deadly, but small and hollow-boned though she currently was, with the rage and the protectiveness that drove her anything that tried to stop her would find itself being at most the second most deadly thing in the swamp. This was unusual and out of character for 'Chra. A threat to herself was almost always met by simply removing herself from the situation, or, as another might see it, running away.
A baffled Swamp Harrier found itself having to dive to cover, several feather shy, when it crossed her path, it's hunting flight patterns being interpreted as a threat, as something that slowed and prevented her from finding hers.
If only they'd been bonded for longer, perhaps she could have tracked him more easily, more precisely. Perhaps she could have called back through the link, found what threatened him so, found the best way to fix it. But the bond was new to her. She did not know how to use it yet. Sometimes it provided feedback, often it didn't. She'd had the initial surge of strong emotion and now nothing, but she would fly every inch of these damned swamps until her wings gave out, and then she would run them, until her heart gave out, she would not stop until either she was dead, or whatever threatened Wikus was.
She would find him. He would be all right. He had to be.
