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by Creeper on June 26th, 2012, 5:01 am
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by Tiki on July 1st, 2012, 9:16 pm
Tiki’s swell of emotions was soon overcome by the more basic demands of his body. The convulsions of pain said what he could not for his injuries, and soon he was gritting his teeth and wiping away sweat rather than fighting back tears. He had pushed himself too far. Now would be the time to find a high up branch and lick his wounds, maybe hunt small prey for a while and work his way back up. Now just wasn’t the time though. His arched back was agitated, and thus his whole body. Tiki was a rather poor guard for the front door, and that was if the sun beam didn’t prevent anything from entering. Jitter soared in and flashed brighter than the sun rays to say his piece. Tiki’s torso sprung up, but he didn’t move, he didn’t even have his arms up. It would have been that quick, and he wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t need to be ready for it, thankfully. Tiki recognized the glow as a kelvic’s. This one, jitter, was someone he could trust. Tiki stared back out with sharp eyes, the only thing still sharp about him right now. Grath lifted Tiki’s relatively weightless body and slung him over. It was odd at first, but then there was a sense of familiarity to it. A warm caress, a shoulder to hold onto… They were out the door in no time following Jitter. Tiki kept his eyes locked on Kashal and the children behind them. He should have been there, not her. That’s what made the situation all the more dangerous. What? Why the mist, of course. Their movements, the shuffling fur and padded thuds on the petal surface rang out in the silence in the mist. The white shroud that covered the Spires hid the way to safety from them. It was only because of Grath and Kashal’s knowledge that they were alive at that moment. Tiki was their eyes and ears when they couldn’t be. The cat shifted on a whim, the hairs on his body standing up to put on a show of strength when his own strength was lacking, and moved to lunge. Kashal was all over the cat, with a roar like thunder, and soon Tiki was being thrown at lightning speed at another one. He wasn’t happy with Grath as an afterthought. Tiki’s projectile body collided with the miststalker’s. He has his hand clenched in a fist like he had seen Grath do before, and held it out to whack the beast. He missed, and instead tumbled around with the cat before they rolled their separate ways. Tiki was climbing to his knees when he saw Grath in motion, and heard the crunching of bone nearby. Tiki noted the intensity of the sound that pounded in his head: the heavy breathing, the whining, the gushing liquids, and the pounding Grath let loose. The petal was beaten like a drum, and the sound echoed outward. That was how these two ended, with no song to follow. Tiki was struggling to his feet when Grath took him back up and they were all on the move again. There was a moment the kelvic witnessed between Kashal and Grath. It was an apology and reassurance. Kashal was alright, but they needed to get inside immediately. It was the Memorium. Tiki recognized the arched structure from a distance, though he usually saw it from the Outer Petals. It looked much larger up close, and then enormous inside. A structure designed to house the Jamoura in council needed to be though… “We must go to the Temple at once. The priestess has sent her messengers in masses now. We cannot defend ourselves here…” “Ney, the beasts lurk in every corner of the city. Have you not seen them and their teeth, what they are capable of?” “They have taken my brother from me. You know him, he is no we…” “It’s hopeless…” “Impossible!” “Enough of this bickering, we need to move!” The tumult of discussions crossed every which way across the Memorium as they entered. The cries of children and moaning of the injured were being tended to above all. Still, there was disorganization. The Memory was incomplete, Marn evidently absent, and an utter lack of order to be found. The members of the Hahk’Shatara that made it here seemed more concerned with the entry ways than the decision making itself. Surely they had some thoughts of their own in mind. Staring into their eyes it was seen how serious the event had become, the rage, sorrow, fear, and even then some hints of optimistic hope. Five hundred years had passed since their creation and before that many centuries of enduring the wilds. This was a tragedy, but not necessarily to be the defeat of the Jamoura as a whole. The sun would brighten, the mist would thin, and the stalkers would leave all in due time. The concern was what would happen between now and then. The priestess’s realm of influence seemed to be occupied with the Temple. This group was on its own. Grath grunted to Kashal and then to another of his kin. The Jamoura rushed off to become better informed, and Kashal resumed tending to the children. Surely she’d be working on something to calm them if she had the ingredients and time. A good meal makes people happy, right; perhaps not if it’s a last meal. The grunting was becoming notably louder. It would draw attention, and Tiki recognized this as a hunter. The other kelvic seemed equally unnerved. It was a wonder why they didn’t flee by themselves. Tiki found the strength to stand and walk. He navigated through the maze of towering dark masses toward other kelvics. They said the same things Jitter did in different ways. Tiki was looking for Jitter too, in his vibrant colors or human skin. He knew what was going on, here and at the Temple. They were blind in the Memorium. Tiki’s intuition said to go to the temple, but he lacked the means of getting there. While he might be able to get Grath, Kashal, and leave, he didn’t want to leave the safety of the pack. Tiki was in no ways a leader, but he might be able to provide some suggestion. Tiki located a group of Deacons in debate. That was the worst thing, it was turning into a discussion of how things should be handled, a suffering conversation of groupthink and conflicting views. One half would say go, the others stay, and they would butcher each others’ reasons. Tiki tugged on the fur of a Jamoura and spoke to him, “We need to get to the Temple.” The Jamoura, and apparently grumpy deacon, turned to Tiki and replied, evidently irritated, “We need to wait this out. Syna will break the mist soon. It is merely a matter of time. Go wash your wounds, kelvic. I see the fear in your eyes too!” “Enough of your pessimism. The boy is right, as are all the kelvic sent here. The priestess sends her message, the Temple is safe. Just how long do you expect to wait for the mist to fade? There are many things which should and should not happen, this invasion being one of them…” “Which is why we need to prepare ourselves now before they attack!” “And what then? We watch as our own die?” “I didn’t say-!” “Yes you did!” The argument heated, the deacons lost in their own ideas, all of them discomforted and distracted by the situation. How long had it been since they last felt this feeling of entrapment and danger? Tiki couldn’t stand for it. He left the discussion as easily as he had entered, and with even lesser notice. He was looking for something. Tiki walked towards the way they entered the Memorium that lead back to the open space of the Government Petal. It was a start to tactics, knowing your surroundings. A scent on the morning breeze could even alarm them of the immediate coming of a threat. At the threshold to the outside, Tiki stopped and looked out into the mist, just looking for a hint of what was going on outside. His eyes were unblinking, and his face displayed a stern appearance. Mortality was biting. Tiki really just wanted to rest. |
by Capricious on April 20th, 2013, 3:04 am
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