Open Acclimating To Kalinor

[Purge]

Time Stamp: 2nd Winter 513 The light of Leth was faint this evening as the night wore on over the Kalea region. The silvery light barely making things visible to the normal eye, for Leth was at its lowest point on the horizon. Yet for the coal black eyes of Purge, the landscape was alive and highly visible, every crevice and ever cranny was apparent and easily avoided. She was out on the hunt, a strange Zith in a different land then her beloved Xy. The terrain was so different then the sea of grasses was, and the animals as well. There was so much to learn that Purge had no problems with the difficulties of adjusting to a new area. She rested on a rock, her knees bent beneath her, her hands pressed against the stone, gazing into one such crevice. There had looked like there might have been a sign of life..if she waited patiently enough... Her claws on her hands twitched in her desire to tap them against the rock, but that would scare the would-be dinner away. She was just starting to get a little hungry, not ravenous so she could be patient. Occasionally her face would lift, and her pitch colored eyes would scan the region before dropping back to the crevice. Her red hair, the only bit of color on an otherwise black figure, streamed down and over her shoulders, tucked behind her ears so that the strands did not hinder her peripheral vision. Hunting solo without her twin sister or her other siblings was something she was going to have to grow accustomed to. At least until they finally managed to find their way here. A sound, Purge looked up quickly, her body tensing though her wings remained lowered. She did not want the rustle of her wings raising to scare what ever it was that she saw move into this crevice, no matter how much her instinct was to go on the aggressive. However there was nothing out there, not that she could see. For a long tick longer she stared before she settled back again, to watch the crack.

[Scorn]

For the past couple of days, Scorn had been lost in the wilderness. After an uncomfortable encounter in Kalinor, she'd decided it would be best to make herself scarce for a while, and she was more relaxed away from the crowds of stick men anyway. Unfortunately, once she had flown sufficiently far from the city, she was unsure how to get back... Fortunately, she was used to spending time alone, sleeping in unfamiliar locations. Usually, someone from her colony would find her after a few days. This time, it would be a good test for her sister, to see if Scourge still even thought of her as family enough to come after her. It was partly Scourge's fault Scorn had run off anyway. She was so attached to the stick men, she'd forgotten what being a Zith was about, and that scared Scorn more than she could stand. The previous day, she'd been struggling to find a place to sleep. She wasn't used to finding shelter in these piles of rocks, but she did not want to sleep out in the open, especially with potentially unfamiliar threats wandering around. Finally, when she was so exhausted she could barely keep herself aloft, she'd found a crevice just big enough for her to squeeze through. Inside, she found a small cave, cool and dark, and potentially safe enough to sleep. Now, it was night again, Scorn was still mostly asleep, and something was moving around in the crevice with her. It was the low growl right next to her face that woke her fully. In a panic, she screeched and lashed out with her claws. Unfortunately, the cougar in the crevice with her also had claws, and teeth. Scorn got its nose, the cougar ripped out a chunk of her hair. She got her feet free and kicked and slashed, succeeding in keeping the cougar away from her vital areas, but at the cost of having the big cat clamp down on her calf with its vice-like jaws. She screamed it pain, trying to free her wings, but they were pinned under her. She kicked and kicked with her free leg, tearing chunk after chunk of flesh from the cat. Aiming roughly for its neck, she finally tore enough chunks out of its throat for it to stop moving, but not before its bite had broken the bone in her leg. The pain was so much for her to even enjoy the kill. It was all she could do to muffle her plaintive crying sounds. Attracting additional predators would not help her right now.

[Purge]

Purge was about to give up and head back down into Kalinor, she had yet to learn the patience of a hunter. The necessity of staying absolutely still was more then her energetic activeness would allow on most nights. This is why she was not much of a stalker, she would have to learn how to trap if she didn't want to risk injury by just randomly flying and attacking something. That just seemed silly. She sat back, smoothing her fur over her belly where it had been ruffled, she hated when it was ruffled. It was at this time that she heard a scream, it sounded not too distant. It didn't sound like a mere animal scream, and it bore investigation. She missed having slaves to practice on, and perhaps it wasn't a slave but perhaps another Zith. It might be one of those symenestra, in which she would lend a hand if it was but she truly hoped it was one of the other. Her wings raise, the sound of the leathery wings unmistakeable in the night sky. With a powerful push of her legs, Purge took to the sky with a great rush of wind propelled forward with a mighty flap of her wings. The muscles in her back and chest were well defined from frequent flights, so her pattern was strong and able to keep her over the surface of the craggy cliffs as she searched for the source of the scream. She knew it came from the south, and there were many little crooks and crannies in these cliffs but the occasional whimper lead her to the proper crevice. Landing, her feet so close to the edge that her clawed toes curled down, and she squatted with her elbows and the long black fur on them propped on her knees. Black eyes peered into the crevice, having no trouble at all seeing the figure, and the wings. Lips spread in a smile, even though she did note the blood and the dead cat she didn't seem as if she cared. It was another Zith, so when she spoke it was in the zithnese language, the chirping supersonic sounds that must sound so eerie to non-zith flowing easily from Purge. "Evening! Was that you I heard?" Her head shifts, and a shock of red hair falls over her shoulder to dangle. She looked at the body, examining the leg where it seemed to be bleeding the most from but she also looked at the wings. "Can you fly?" This was asked even as she shifted and jumped down into the crevice, her wings folding around her body. The harness that rarely left her body since she had been split up from her family still danging in front of her chest. "You have some wounds on your leg, I don't have anything to bandage it here but if we can get you back to Kalinor..." She spoke in a matter of fact way, though she smiled and bent to offer her hand toward the fallen Zith female.

[Scorn]

Scorn flinched when she noticed the presence of the strange Zith, having been too distracted to sense her approach. Her first instinct was a wary one, but when the Zith made no hostile moves, no attempt to steal her kill, Scorn gave into the impulse to instantly befriend and trust any Zith, the closest thing to kin she had this far from her colony. She took the proffered hand and let herself be pulled up, stumbling and grabbing onto the Zith for support as the head-rush dizzied her. She started to let the woman help her out of the crevice, but she stopped. "My kill," she whined. It pained her to let any hunt go to waste, even an accidental one like this, but even as she imagined tearing into its still-warm flesh, a wave of pain shot up her leg, and rendered her nauseous at the mere thought of food. She did not know if she was ready to go back to Kalinor, the city that symbolized to her now everything wrong in her life. But it looked like she did not have much choice now. She was going to have to return eventually, and without the unexpected aid of her new friend, Scorn would likely die. At least, if she must go back, she would be in the company of Zith. Perhaps that would not be so bad. "Thank you," she said with difficulty through the excruciating pain. "I am called Scorn."

[Purge]

Purge took the weight of the other Zith with a surprising easy, after the initial dip she absorbed the other's weight with her powerful legs bearing them both up until the other was steady on her remaining good leg. Until now her curiosity had outweighed her beginnings of hunger, and her own failure at hunting whatever it was that had hid it the other crevice, but when the other murmured about the kill the smell of fresh blood assaulted her nose. However the loss of her colony had left Purge with a sense of unease. The colony was life. Zith were strong, Zith were ferocious, but Zith were not immortal and a lone Zith in the world would not likely survive. So she put her instincts aside for once, and reached a clawed hand down to snag her harness. "If you can still fly I can carry for you. Maybe you share your kill." She shrugged, understanding on a basic level if Scorn refused to share the kill. It was Scorn's kill, and it would be Scorns right to defend the kill. Whether or not Scorn agrees to share, Purge turned her head, craning her neck over her shoulder to inspect the wings of the other Zith, looking for signs of tearing. If there were no tearing, and if the delicate hollow bones that make up the frame were undamaged then Scorn would more then likely be able to fly. Purge would just have to help her take off and possibly land. The Zith could tell from here that one of Scorn's legs was badly injured, though without examining it she wouldn't be able to tell much more. "I will help you up, then I will put your kill in my harness...Your kill." Purge reiterated, emphasizing that she understood that the dead body was Scorns and she wasn't trying to make a claim on it.

[Scorn]

Scorn considered Purge's offer for only a moment before making up her mind. The offer made sense, and would allow Scorn more of the meat than she would have otherwise. And Purge was already offering to help Scorn. It was common in colonies to share kills, and the familiarity of this sort of exchange of favors made Scorn too homesick for her to even consider refusing. "You carry, and we can share the meat." Scorn tried to smile, but she could only manage a grimace. Then it occurred to her to test the other part of the plan. She stretched her wings out slowly, feeling for any damage. She did not think they had been harmed; they had been pinned under her because she had been sleeping, and it was only her legs that had moved much in the scuffle. They were a bit stiff, but she flapped once experimentally and nothing hurt. "I can fly," she assured Purge, belatedly. She allowed Purge to help her out into the open, biting her lip so she did not cry from the pain. It was not that she wanted to seem strong, but more loud noises might attract more predators that Scorn was just not in the mood to deal with at the moment. Wincing, and sucking air through her teeth, she flapped hard enough to take to the air, where she would at last be safe. The feeling of her broken leg dangling below her made her ill enough that a bit of bile came up her throat. She wanted to get somewhere she could rest as soon as possible, but then she remembered, she did not know the way back. She would have to wait for Purge to finish gathering the kill and show her how to get...well, she wasn't ready to call it "home" yet.

[Purge]

Purge took as much weight as Scorn would allow her to help the other Zith woman to an open area, the great wind rush of Scorn's wings as she struggled to gain altitude with her wounds cause her red hair to stir around her shoulders. Once she was reasonably sure that the other was not going to plummet down, that there were no hidden wounds to her wings, Purge turned and hurried over the rocky fissures back to the carcass. Her claws made clacking sounds across the solid surface for like everything else on her body, her feet were bare. Bending she gripped the animal by one foreleg and one back leg, and hauling it up with a grunt. The harness would help to steady the dead weight, while her arms helped to distribute its weight so it was not bearing her down. Much like she would carry slaves back in Xy. Quickly she drew the straps of the harness around the body, her fingers almost lovingly caressing the bloody wounds Scorn's claws had made, gathering the congealing blood onto her fingers which were dipped into her mouth, her cheeks depressing as she suckled the salty coppery blood from her claws. Sighing, reminding herself this was not her kill and that she had someone waiting on her, she gathered the carcass in her arms, now attached to her harness for security and stood. With a powerful leap and her wings unfurled to catch the updraft that her body created to launch herself into the air. With a quick banking of her wings she pulls along side of Scorn, though not close enough that their wind currents would disrupt their flights. Her black eyes look blankly at Scorn for a moment before she realized that the other might not know which way was which. She didn't shrug because that would have disturbed her wings at they were busy at the moment, but she looked for the line of scraggly looking brush that marked south. Once there she simply jerked her head towards the opposite direction. Kalinor was North because she went South when she heard the scream. Purge had also just traversed this area on her way from the ambush on her family. All she could really recall was large colorful blobs, the bright light of Syna obscuring her vision so much. However she did remember vague shapes, which translated to crevices and crannies that she now flew over. She flew on until she spotted the entrance to Kalinor, the woven gate and she pulled up, letting the wind hit her wing full on to draw to a slow and she allowed her feet to plant themselves on the rock. Letting the carcass hang now from the harness around her breasts which are now smeared with blood and matter from the fresh kill, she raises her arms upward, offering Scorn a friendly cushion to land since she was down a leg.

[Massacre]

OOCHope its alright if I pop in here. Kalinor was a place that Massacre could get comfortable in.. if it weren't for all the strange thin human-like things climbing around everywhere. It was dark, hard to find, and would make an excellent colony if enough Zith ever decided to come there. But all the people would have to be dealt with. He didn't think they would make very good slaves. They'd have to be kept in fully enclosed cages, or chained to the ground, considering they can climb out of anything without a roof as easily as they climb the walls and ceilings of their cavernous home. No, for Zith to flourish in Kalinor, the pale ones would have to go. He didn't like being left alone in the city either. Massacre was entirely unfamiliar with the surroundings, did not speak the language, and did not understand their ways. Scourge was even worse, in his opinion, though he'd never say that out loud. She slept at night, and actually liked the thin ones. Scorn was the only thing keeping Massacre there. Had he been alone he would have left long ago. By the time Massacre woke that night Scorn was already gone, something that annoyed the older Zith to no end. He wasn't going to go out looking for her though, not when he didn't know the area enough to find his way back. He didn't stay inside either, but made sure to keep the entrance well within site at all times as he wandered the sky just outside the city. That was how he spotted Scorn's return, along with another Zith he'd never seen before. And.. Scorn was injured! Massacre swooped down just as Scorn made her landing, watching as she used the other Zith for help. There was something wrong with her leg! At least she could still fly, but Massacre was already getting angry at himself for not having been with her to keep her safe. He'd lost her once already, when they were separated, and it was only sheer luck that reunited the pair. Massacre wasn't about to lose her again. "Scorn, what happened!? Did this one hurt you?" Of course if he'd thought about it he would have realized that if Purge had been the one to hurt Scorn, she probably wouldn't be helping her land, but Massacre was worried, and such feelings never helped one to think straight. He was protective of the younger Zith, and if there was any chance Purge had hurt her, he wasn't about to let that stand.

[Scorn]

Scorn fell into Massacre's arms with a feeling of immense relief. The pain in her leg felt like it was radiating through her whole body. There had been several moments during the flight back where she was sure she wouldn't make it, but she knew she didn't have a choice but to keep going if she wanted to live. Luckily for all of them, Scorn's clinging prevented Massacre from acting on any hostile feelings he might be harboring. "The thing that hurt me is dead," she told him, trying to be reassuring, but the pain made each word come with an effort. "This one, helped me." And that was the last of her strength. She slumped against Massacre, still conscious, but no longer able to support herself. "It hurts," she whimpered. More than anything, at this moment, she wanted the pain to stop. And maybe also for her lower leg to stop waving around independent of where her knee was trying to point it. Worse, part of her worried that she would never recover, and would be a liability to the colony and so have to seek a useful death.

OOCMy apologies for being a tad damsely here, but pain is serious business.

[Purge]

Purge turned her black eyes toward the male Zith that met them at the entrance, her gaze merely curious and entirely unhurried. The fact that she was still harnessed to the dead beast that Scorn had killed at expense of her own body caused her to step back, to cradle the beast once more defensively. As if she expected the male to try and steal the meat. She was assessing him, his size comparative to her own, his claws in contrast with her own. If he had not been Zith then she would have labeled him a threat and gone on the aggressive side. However he was Zith, and that makes a difference, especially out here so far from Xy, She took no offense to his silly question. It was plain to Purge, at least, that she had not hurt Scorn. If she had of then it wouldn't be broken legs that Scorn would have been suffering from. But the other female said almost as much, so Purge simply shrugged and unhooked the harness, placing the dead body behind her, away from the male. "Lay her down. Less crowded out here, I can try and help. At least until we can get her in there and if the ...Kalinor residents can do more." Purge speaks Zithanese in a quite tone, not really caring but not cold and heartless either. If anything her tones spoke of a quiet eagerness as she moved toward the other female. She did not seem to care that blood from the kill clung to the fur covering her breasts, belly and arms, for she did nothing to clean it at the moment. "I have some small skill in medicine. Are you her mate?" Inquisitively, Purge asked the question, not because it was necessary just because she was curious as to his attachment to Scorn. "I am called Purge."

OOCZith Zith Zith! ...Oh Sorry, fangirl came out