Gone Fishing [-open-]

[Ishara Dossari]

35th Day of Summer, Year 512 AV The heat was something Ishara was accustomed to. Warm air fanning the back of her neck, encouraging beads of sweat to form on her brow, any exhertion amplifying the current of her blood that ran hot beneath her skin. She could cope with heat, easier than most. Relegating her breathing, not using a touch more force than she must, these were but little things that kept one's energy from flagging in the midday sun. Still, it took growing up in the blistering desert to grow accustomed to such weather. But the heat here was still different. It clung to you in heavy, damp waves. You could practically taste the moisture in the air with each lungful. It is all the water, Ishara thought to herself, glancing sideways to where the dunes parted and offerred a glimpse of the ocean beyond. The roar of the waves was a low purr beyond the hills of sand. Riverfall was a city filled to the brim with water...a trait that marked it as a rich place indeed, in Ishara's mind. Rich by home's standards, at least. In the desert, water was riches. Water was life. Raj was waiting out the strong midday sun in a bowl he'd dug beneath the shade of a tropical cluster of trees not far off. Ishara swept her eyes over her campsite, frowning softly to herself as she tried to spot anything she might have forgotten. It was necessary to move her camp every few days or so. This kept less desirable characters from knowing where she stayed and made it less likely that her camp should be raided by thieves looking to pocket food or money. Still, as a precaution, Ishara kept her money on her person. But, she could not march off each day with all her belonging strapped to her...not yet, anyway. She'd chosen a good spot, this time. Nestled in a grove of tropical foliage, where the sun barely spliced through to warm the sands. It was cooler here, even if only fractionally, because of the shade. A soft breeze wound drowsily through the air, just enough to stir the hair on Ishara's arms if she was still enough. It caused the heavy fronds above to sway and bob their heads, and the whisper of leaves shivering in response brought a smile to Ishara's face. With camp set up, it was time to try out the other asset to her camp that she was looking so forward to: The fishing hole. She found the fishing hole well before she'd ever stumbled across this perfect campsite. Not unknown to the populace of Riverfall, it was a ways from the city, which typically deterred the common fisherman from frequenting the site daily. Even if daily visits were the case, the supply of fish in this meager cove was always replenished with the coming of the tide. Ishara had been venturing down here on spare time--something that came rarely to her--and trying her luck with a crude line and hook, fastened and wound about a sturdy limb. She'd found a small stone to weight the line with, and had a store of bait she'd been given by a fisherman, with whom she'd traded a few good stories. With her camp set up, it was time to try her luck. Clutching her fishing stick, Ishara walked out to the shore and followed the water line into the cove, scaling a few large, barnacled boulders that barred the way. Raj had abandoned his cool nest and trotted after her, a pale shadow at her heels. "There will be more places to nap," she told him, smiling down at the reproachful look he turned up to her. The proximity of the fishing hole was close, and they found themselves on the brink of it in no time. The water was still, cut off from the charges of the incomming tide. Small ripples surfaced now and again, hinting at life beneath. Ishara picked a spot, and began to unwind her line. Her first few casts were failures. On one cast, the fish stole the bait in one fell swoop before Ishara even had the chance to retaliate. On another, she'd not tightened the bait on well enough, and it was shaken free as soon as the first flurry of small fish inspected it. Sighing with resignation, Ishara tied on another piece of bait, and cast it out again. The shadow that loomed up to meet it made her breath catch and still in her throat...would he take it? Ishara's fingers tightened on the limb. The shape swam lazily around the baited line, toying with Ishara's emotions...and in a flurry of movement, it ducked down and snatched up the bait, hook and all. Ishara pulled hard, imagining how good such a fish was going to taste cooked over coals tonight...when suddenly the line came free. Her heart sank. The fish had spit it out. Reeling it all in for another try, she felt the hook and sinker snagged something. She frowned as she tested the line, trying to pull it free from whatever it could be...and with no luck. Sighing in exasperation, she stared at the water where her line went in, willing it free...and it was to no use. It was stuck fast. Her only option was going to be to dive in and get it. "Well, this is...just [i]great[i]," she muttered, giving the line another tug. She was not a good swimmer...but the pool was not so very deep. She could just make out the little pocket of stone where her hook had become wedged. It was perhaps a few dozen feet from the pebbly shore. A glance to Raj provided no answers...the silkena just peered at her over his crossed forepaws. Ishara's hands fell to her sides in resignation, and she began to take off her shoes.

[Rhy]

Rhy is, in her true body, a Luvanor Grassland Hunter. Her breed was engineered to hunt in the grasslands. But she is still a dog, and dogs can overheat. Which is why she finds herself laying, human, naked, with her tongue lolling and a beaded sweat glistening across her back in a thicket of tall grass. This has slowly become the usual outcome to her morning runs on the plain. The cool, mellow dawn burning off into a midday sun faster than she expects, and leaving herself stranded in her own laziness. She was too young to remember much about her first summer, so she is learning the hard lessons for her second summer. Her little piece of shaded paradise sits atop a slight overhang over the rocky part of the beach. Far enough away from Riverfall that she knows her nap won't be interrupted. Well, she expected so, anyway, until she hears the grating sound of the disturbed beach. What would anyone be down here for? There are plenty of places to fish, set crab traps and swim along the softer sand of the inner bay. She mulls this over as she rolls over to her back, stretching with her hands above her head and arching her back like a cat. Seclusion and natural walls is what the inner bay doesn't have, but this stretch does, she reasons. Somebody down there must be looking for a place to hide, or at least avoid people. She knows the territory and harsh rule of the Akalak, so it is probably someone pulling shady business or waiting for a secret lover. Or so her imagination tells her, fettered only by a Kelvics rather loose bounds of logic. None the less her interest is now piqued. Rhy peels her face off the ground and peers over the ledge, the thatched pattern of her grass pillow pressed deep into her cheek. A few feet below her a small, dark haired woman picks carefully over sharp barnacled rocks with a long, narrow stick in hand and a pale hound clipping along at her heel. The breeze comes off of the ocean, delivering the sent of dust-salted rocks, salty ocean and sweat-salted skin. Even the dog was wafting the hot, salty sent of dusty fur. The smell has an uncomfortable burning effect on her nose, making it hard to place anything else about this unusual couple and declaring her sense of smell almost useless. And her sight is no better from this angle, the midday shadows cast by her precarious overhang are not helping either. But curiosity cannot be helped, and once the woman disappears over the first boulder Rhy gets up to follow, exaggerating the motion to work the lethargic out of her bones. Rhy follows the woman from above and just behind, walking upright and frankly making no attempts to be stealthy about it. But she still walks with her inherent Kelvic grace, moving fluidly and stepping light on the balls of her feet, making very little noise. The breeze off of the ocean hides her sent and the sun shines from overhead, causing her shadow to pool at her feet and be unnoticeable from below. Prime stalking conditions, if she were apt to notice. Before long the woman and her canine companion arrive at their destination, a small cove with its own tide pool. Nobody else is there, so Rhy lies back down and prepares to get comfortable for the long wait, but then the woman takes out the stick, and starts drawing the line. Rhy's disappointment is almost palpable. She's fishing? Thats it?! And indeed thats what it looks like she's doing, or attempting at least. And her attempts are painful to watch. The woman has no idea what she is doing, Rhy concludes, and she watches in silence as the woman tries and fails, and finally gets her hook lodged. The woman grumbles and makes to take off her shoes. If she wants food, there are much easier ways to get it! Maybe she doesn't know how. Her minds made up in an instant, and she swings her legs out over the precipice and waves to get the woman's attention. "Afternoon! If you want something to eat y'know there are better ways to go about it, right?" She sits back and digs her heels into the soft part of the overhang until it starts to crumble away, then peels the top away in one piece by its tangled grass roots. She tosses the mat-like thing behind her, scoots forward and slides down the now even slope on her ass, slowing down her decline with the heels of her feet and hands. She lands softly amid a crunch of pebbles. She offers a friendly smile at the woman as she dusts herself off, and makes a point to ignore the dog as a pacifying gesture. She is in his territory, anyway. She also takes a moment to look over the dogs Mistress. She is beautiful. The two woman have a similar colouring, but thats where their similarities end. She being delicate and small, with wonderfully blue eyes and a willowy figure. While Rhy herself is wiry and tough, with a sharp waist and narrow features. And currently streaked with sweat and dust, of which she is now acutely aware beside someone so clean. "Ah, let me fetch that for you..." She wades into the water to pull loose the lost hook, and makes a discreet effort to scrub her skin clean. She calls behind her shoulder, "What are ya doing out here anyway?"

[Liandra]

Liandra was exploring the grasses near the city, trident strapped to her back, knife in her waistband, and net hanging off her hip. She'd been told that the wilds were all quite dangerous, but if she stayed near the city, she should be fine. She was plodding along the only road, peering into the grasses, trying to get a feel for the area. She was having trouble comprehending the sheer amount of grass. Even amongst the seabeds, she never encountered so much of a single plant type. She knelt down along the side of the road and grabbed one of the grasses near the root cluster and began to pull. And pull. And grunt. "By the gods, what is this stuff mad-- OOF!" The grass had pulled up from the root, and she found her self rolling back on to her butt and back. She held up the grass and saw that the root system wasn't overly deep, but was extremely entangled and bundled with all the surrounding roots as well. She brought the strand of grass up to her mouth, and bit into it with her sharp teeth, tearing off a length, gnashing at it. The plant was bitter, but full of water, she noted in the taste. If she ever got lost, and couldn't find water, she could probably survive off of these plants. Not wanting to waste or upset the gods, she ate the rest of the plant, forcing her way past the bitter taste.

She spread the grasses, peering within, noticing how damp the ground was. It may be a sea of grass, but it was a sea of puddles and damp as well. She stepped into the grass, exploring the grasses that were as tall as her. It was quite an odd feeling, being surrounded by plants that she was naturally inclined to be among. She walked slowly, each foot fall trying to be silent, and cautious, in case there were other dangers. She crouched low, her eyes constantly keeping an eye out, one of her hands snaking to her waist and grabbing her knife. As one of her misplaced steps created a splash, she heard the grassland around her fall silent, and a pit dropped in her stomach. She knew this feeling from her time in the seas proper. Something had spotted her. She slipped her knife back into her waistband, and pulled her net from her hip, holding it out tentatively in front of her. She stood perfectly still, hoping whatever it was would go away, leave her alone.

A single white creature's head popped out of the grass in front of her. It was small, rodent like, and sniffing at the air. The Charoda woman found it sort of cute, in a furry way. She lowered her net, relaxing. After all, if such a little thing could be walking around safely, there must not be anything dangerous around. Then she saw another head identical to the first pop out a foot from the other. And another, and another. Her eyes grew wide, as she looked around and saw about a dozen of the little creatures. They weren't as cute any more, and she began to get really nervous. She took a slow step back, raising the net up in front of her defensively. As she took another step back, her foot sunk into a puddle and she stumbled.

Several small screeches filled the air as the white critters all leapt and began gliding toward her. She tried to flick her net, with her flimsy wrists, toward the critters. But the net flicked toward her body, and a few of the hooks sank into her stomach, and one into her leg. She winced, trying to yank it free while stumbling backwards. One of the critters glided down at her face, when she managed to yank hard enough to pull the net free, small amounts of blood and skin flying with the net upward, wrapping around the little critter. Liandra, gritting in pain, managed to get her feet beneath her, turned and ran, while the little critter thrashed in her barbed net. She had no idea where she was going, just fleeing the white rats of death. Her arms pumped wildly, the net whipping around, occasionally snagging at her flesh and ripping bits away, her screaming in pain and fear as she tried to find shelter, or someone to save her. One of the critters managed to get around her, trying to cut her off, snarling, its razor sharp teeth flashing. She slapped one of her hands outward, and clipped its wing, while one of its fangs sliced into her finger.

She kept running, her legs tiring quickly, and she could hear the squeaks and screeches of the others chasing her. She was screaming prayers to Dira in her head, prayers to Caiyha, even to Laviku and Makutsi, to save her and give her a way to escape these flying fanged weasels. And her prayers were answered, as she burst through the tall grasses and saw a small pond, deep enough to dive into. She fumbled and hooked her net onto her hip, sprinting for the saving graces of the water, her webbed feet sloshing through the mud. She pushed off and her body extended into a graceful, arcing dive, disappearing beneath the waters, swimming as fast as she could down to the bottom, and turned, looking to the surface, to see if they could follow her. She felt a wild thrashing next to her, and saw the creature that had gotten caught in her net give off its death shudders as it finally drowned. She supposed she could do something with that later, as she enjoyed the soothing touch of Makutsi's embrace on her small wounds. She floated up toward the surface, to survey the area, when she could make out a shape standing at the shore opposite of where she'd dove in.

Petch.

She'd probably just put that person in a lot of danger, and hadn't even realized it.

[Ishara Dossari]

((I'm so sorry this took so long for me to get back to. We just don't have internet access like we used to. But that is about to change! : ) )) Before Ishara's toes hit the water, a voice heralded from just behind her. She turned just in time to see a woman slide down the hillside...naked. Ishara blinked. Another Kelvic? She recalled Dex's unexpected 'visit' not so long ago with a rueful smile, and raised her hand in salutation. Kelvics did not have the same considerations as most others when it came to wearing clothes, and this was something that Ishara had been adjusting to. Thankfully, this time it was a girl... As the woman approached, Raj's ears swept up and he leapt forward, interest vibrating through his rigid stance as he circled the woman. He gave a tentative flick of his tail on his approach, nose twitching as he dissected her scent. "Greetings!" Ishara placed her rod on the sand, and stepped forward to introduce herself. Her pale eyes swept over the woman's fit frame, taking note of how sun-kissed and toned her body was. This is a woman who knows how to survive, Ishara thought to herself, observing how she moved with a grace-infused confidence as though she just belonged wherever it was she walked. The stranger's chiding words reached her, and Ishara blushed. "I'm not what you could call an accomplished fisherman," Ishara admitted with a shrug, sparing a glance for the make-shift pole and reel she'd put together. It was perhaps not the best way to get the job done...but it was all she had to work with for the time being. As the woman waded in to retieve her baited line, Ishara sucked back a sigh of relief. If she was a poor fisherman, she might be considered an even poorer swimmer. "Thank you, I--" Ishara hesitated, as a high-pitched squealing sounded over the muted thrumming of the waves. Raj whirled with a rumble in his chest, hackles prickling to life along his spine as someone--something?--plunged into the waters with a shriek. The water churned where they disappeared--Was that blood? ...In the wake of the commotion, white creatures rose into the air, chittering and diving and quarreling together. Ishara shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun, trying to discern the trouble... "Something seems very...wrong," Ishara murmured with a frown, her eyes darting from the Kelvic to the aggitated flock of white squalling creatures who were beginning to wing their way across the shallow bay. Her hand went to her hip, where she kept a small hunting knife...in case they decided to come any closer.

[Rhy]

One moment Rhy is bantering with the friendly blue-eyed woman, next she's letting loose a ripping growl and a furious back peddle as she sees whats on the other side of the bay. She's never seen a Snarlwing, not this close anyway, but she's heard enough stories and seen enough scars that the sparkly cloud of flying rodents gives her deep seated animal wariness a shake into full blown alarm. Without further ado Rhy grabs the woman from under the arms and flings her into the water. She gives no forwarning, not even eye contact. Her reasoning being that if the person on the other side can escape by water then thats good enough for her. She's about to dive in after her but the cloud is moving thick and strong right for her. And the one thing she's never been able to master is diving headlong into danger, even if its better then the alternative. The alternative being bolting with her hands above her head to the rocky barrier. Which is exactly what she ends up doing. As she runs she is screaming a long list of every piece of profanity she has ever learned on the docks of Riverfall; the words clipped and harsher than a bark. When they finally reach her she's scrambling up the first rock, and they waste no time flocking like a pack of vicious seagulls. Small bites and wing-cuts bloom on her body at an alarming rate. In a panic she tries swatting them away with her hands, and finally throws herself down the first crevice she can find. Little more then a narrow crack, it runs between the joint of two large boulders and has just enough room for her to fit sideways. She shimmies down to the very bottom where her shoulder and knee wedges in the farthest corner, and thanks whatever god is listening for her lack of bust. A snarling or two could fit, if it was so inclined to crawl down the narrow shaft without its wings. But her movement is horribly limited and she wouldn't have very many ways of defending herself if it tried. So she takes a deep breath and lets loose a volley of savage barking to dissuade them from trying. Are the two people in the water alright? Did half the colony stay behind to fish them out? Nobody can hold their breath forever. Did she just throw that woman into danger? The questions form and dissipate just as quick. Well, whatever is going on its not likely she can help. Trying might get herself killed. So she lays snug and cramped in her makeshift fort, focusing on the swirling, glittery problem above her.

[Ishara Dossari]

Time seemed to suspend itself as the flickering, white mass of shapes winged their way across the water...straight for them both. Some stayed behind to dip and hover over where the other individual went in, but before Ishara could form the sense of mind to guess how many remained, she was unceremoniously heaved into the water. Saltwater kicked up her nose, dizzying her senses as she gagged and snorted bubbles, clawing her way to the surface. She was met with a high keening, sharp teeth and even sharper, clingier nails. Snarlwings? She sucked in a deep breath, submerged herself, and kicked off the sandy bottom to propel herself along...parallel to the shore. The idea was to disappear long enough to discourage their pursuit...and as she surfaced clinging to a boulder several yards off, it seemed to have worked...for now. She'd barely peeped above water, just long enough to spot the Kelvic scrambling over the rocks and diving into a crevice...snarlwings in hot pursuit. Another deep breath, and Ishara ducked under again...she pulled herself along the bottom, clawing at submerged boulders for purchase. This time, she was aiming for the pebbly beach, just beneath where the other woman had vanished. She came up with two large rocks in her hand, nose burning and eyes streaming as she blinked them clear. Adrenaline and fear gave her a clear-sightedness that surpassed her water-logged state, sharpening the scene before her and channeling newfound strength into her limbs. It would not last for long, though. She waited until three of the preoccupied snarlwings were squabbling over the entrance to Rhy's hidey hole...and then she let fly. The first stone missed...but it dislodged others that fell to pin the wings of two of the snarlwings as they crawled over one another trying to take to the air. It also sent a small shower of stones down the crevice where Rhy was wedged, and Ishara uttered a prayer that the girl was alright. She rose from the water, wet clothes clinging to her and hampering her movements as she stumbled forward to pick up a shaft of driftwood. By this time, the remaining snarlwings had caught on...and were bee-lining right to her. Grimacing, Ishara adjusted her grip on the driftwood, struggling to watch the flurry of white zeroing in on her, to choose her target...but they milled in and around one another so acrobatically that she was forced to swing at them en masse as they flew at her face. Sharp nails scored her forehead. A puncture nailed her left arm. But the satisfying crack! and wails of alarm were all Ishara could hear as she swung the shaft of wood back and forth. A baying and snarling fury descended upon the rocky beach, and Ishara glimpsed Raj's wide jaws snapping as he whirled in a dance with two of the beasts. They were both trying to score his flanks before his teeth closed on their vulnerable wings and disabled them with a shake of his head, a maddness kindled in his eyes as the blood of one snarlwing dappled his cheeks. As things between Raj and the snarlwings heated up, Ishara took the opportunity to scramble up the rocky slope, sliding down near where Rhy had disappeared. One of the snarlwings pinned by the stones she'd upset earlier chittered angrily up at her, and she brought the driftwood down on it's fanged rebukes. "Are you...--" Ishara hefted another stone, and threw it at another incomming snarlwing...who didged it easily in the air..."alright?!" She did not have a second to look away from the treacherous sky. But they seemed...fewer in number. Raj still dodged and lunged there on the pebbly beach, but so much blood spattered his flanks, Ishara was uncertain who was to blame for most of it... There are too many, she thought despairingly, wielding her driftwood once again and yelping as a snarlwing surprised her from behind with a well-placed dive-and-slash to her ear.

[Rhy]

Her angry, pseudo-intimidating barking doesn't stay them for long. They don't seem to want to give up their wings, but the prone Kelvic is to much to resist. A stout red Snarlwing chitters angrily and scrambles low in the mouth of the rock near her feet. When she doesn't move but to blast more obscenities, it boldly crawls further down the narrow fork. Rhy watches it with narrow eyes, and when it is in range her foot whips out and pins it to the stone on its belly. It wriggles and rasps under her foot, with its overlarge wings unfurled and struggling in the small space, but she manages to drag it the rest of the way down. And then pushing as hard as she can against her neck and shoulder she presses down on the withering body with both feet until something snaps under the pressure. Three of the weasel-like creatures still squabble above her head and she's just thinking about pulling one of them down with her bare hands when a small shower of rocks rains dow through the crevasse and her barking fit gives way to a hacking cough. The sharp crack of stone on stone vibrates through the air and she can no longer see the three Snarlwings. Oh please Gods let this not be a petching landslide. A dozen vicious, snarling Bladewings are preferable to suffocating in this hole. So with a deep breath she tries to wriggle her shoulders bit by bit out of the crevice, with her heel still pinned on the dead creature at her feet out of nervousness. CRACK She pushes herself back down into her hole with an unintelligible sound. Flecks of blood from the creature being bashed above her head sprinkles down on her as the dark-haired woman reappears with a bloody piece of driftwood in hand. "What? Yes! Yes! Im fine! What are you doing out of the water you petching lunatic!" And thats all the thanks Rhy can manage for now. She scrapes most of the skin from her cheek and chest as she forces her way out of her hole. A creature dives for the side of the woman's head and Rhy still has the presence of mind to grab it by the tail as it collides with her ear and fling it away as hard as she can. There are only a dozen out of a colony that should be many more times that. But she has no delusions of taking them on. Half that number could still kill her in minutes. They could probably eat her in that much time as well, seeing as they are all the size of a small dog. She struggles to get her legs free and takes a controlled fall down the boulder. The Snarlwings take no time before some veer off of the woman and aim for the weaponless Rhy. In the back of her mind she counts four coming for her. Another three stay with the small woman, another two with the dog. She stands with her back to the rock and waits for the first one to dive at her. A small white one is the first to make the attempt. With a snarl Rhy snatches it out of the air by the first thing she can grab, its open muzzle, and smashes it to the wall behind her. A piece of her flesh is ripped from her palm as the creature drops to the ground. Unfortunately it looks dazed rather then dead, but the small dent in its head gives her the hint that it won't last long. This place is just too open! She tries to keep the panic out of her voice as she calls for the girl. "Get down here! We need to box ourselves in! And call your dog, he's going to get slaughtered." There is a low overhang under the sandy cliff not ten feet away. But its still ten feet away. If they can back themselves into some sort of corner they can protect themselves from the back and overhead. But its still ten feet away, dammit. Another creature makes a dive for her head and feints as she slashes at it. But it leaves a thin train of red across her collar bone as its wing tip grazes way to close to her exposed neck.

[Ishara Dossari]

Ishara whistled, high and sharp, as she turned and pelted for the overhang the Kelvic had indicated. Raj ducked and broke away from the two snarlwings, managing to crunch the wing of one of them before whirling to pursue his master. The wounded animal flailed on the beach, blood congealing with the sandy earth and further hindering it's predicament. Raj wasted no more time in darting beneath the overhang, his hackles matted with blood and sand sticking stiffly from his shoulders. There was a wild light in his eyes, infused with pain and fear, but feuling the courage that brought him snarling at Ishara's side as another winged devil swooped down from above.

"Raj! Back!" Ishara snapped, hurling her limb at the incomming snarlwing. It dodged at the last possible instant, shaving a little bark from the limb. The silkena slunk to the back of the overhang, tongue lolling, eyes darting. He had a pretty decent slice to his shoulder, a few nicks peppering his muzzle and slowly seeping, and one ear was missing the very tip. It was this that caused him to shake his head, splattering the rocks, sand, and individuals gathered within with ruby droplets.

But Ishara had no time to even consider the severity of Raj's injuries as another couple bladewings closed in, snarling and bristling with fury. Ishara sucked in a deep breath, squaring her stance, sparing a glance for the Kelvic alongside her. They were both a little worse for wear, but it was getting to the point where they would start to outnumber the bladewings...and possibly not be wirth the effort.

Then again, the rage ignited by watching their fellows perish at the hands of Ishara, her hound and the Kelvic might blind them to reason.

"C'mon, lets get back," Ishara muttered, scooting back under the overhang and making room for the Kelvic and Raj. This took the advantage of flight from the bladewings, as they would have limited room and likely have to land to get at them from such an angle. Possibly...just possibly...it would be what took the wind from their sails.

"Are you alright?" Blue eyes gave the Kelvic a quick scan, her brows pulled together in consternation. The girl had fought hard, like a little wild thing, and Ishara was impressed...and grateful she was on her side. "Thanks...for earlier," the slight inclination of her head indicated the water...just before a chittering screech echoed from above.

Ishara tightened her grip on the driftwood, waiting to see if the little varmints would poke their savage noses over the overhang's lip, or decide the effort was not worth their time. And if they decide to stay and wait us out? the thought caused a sinking feeling in the pit of Ishara's stomach, and she struggled to push it aside.

[Rhy]

OOCSorry for the poorly written post. Best I could do. Expect better things next time around. ^^" Its pretty flimsy protection, as far as the Kelvic is concerned. The overhang is a bit less then six feet tall, and protrudes for a few inches, making it at least difficult to take a swipe from above. At least they have something solid at their back. But she would be the first to tell you she is no fighter. Her only skills are a result of scraps with other dogs and a handful of fist fights. And the way the delicate woman beside her is holding that driftwood hints at a dismal lack of brawler finesse. At least the horde has slimmed down considerably. She herself took down two, and so did the smaller dog, and the gods know how many the little spitfire woman managed to down. Ishara asks how she is and takes the time to thank the Kelvic for throwing her into the water. Rhy is not exactly sure how to respond, so she opts for the non-committal nod to both. Just then a chittering sound comes from overhead as the beasts squabble with themselves. Bits of dust and rock rain down as the creatures settle amongst themselves, and a small barbed-tooth furry head dips over the edge to spy on the defending trio. But Rhy has been waiting for it, and tries for the trick she pulled last time. She grabs it by its muzzle and with the force of a cracking whip throws it against the rocky shore at their feet. But the force was either not that great or the ground too soft, for with an angry screech the animal rights itself and sails away with a mighty flap of sparkling wings. It might not have worked, but to make her point clear she opts to join Raj in an open-mouth snarl towards the rest of them.

[Ishara Dossari]

((OOC: No Worries!))


Exasperation drove Ishara to desperate measures. She was tired, gritty and hurt, as was Raj and the Kelvic fighting tooth and nail by her side. The persistance of these monsters was tenacious, and Ishara was beginning to doubt whether they'd ever get away. The mere thought that she might not make it out of this one ignited her temper. No. This was not acceptable...Her inner voice spoke with such affirmation, that Ishara felt the panic drain out of her. The little ember of fear burning in her chest swelled into fury. At the next volley of chittering, signaling the approach of another wicked bat on the overhang, Ishara whirled out from beneath it. The driftwood was brought high up in the air in the same movement, and plummeted down on the fanged head with a sickening crunch and another shower of pebbles and dust.

Raj growled, the thunder in his chest diminishing to a pitched whine as the last pair of the bladewings dipped their flashing wings and darted away across the water, bickering at one another as they went. Their high calls and trilling growls faded away across the waves. When the flash of their wings was no more than a speck in the sky, Ishara dropped the driftwood limb and sank to the sand. Raj crept over and nudged her elbow.
"Some fishing trip," Ishara grumbled, tenderly grazing her cheek with her hand and scowling at the blood that came away on it. Her eyes and hands combed over Raj, assessing how badly he'd been hurt. The tip of one ear weeped blood. His flanks had a myriad of scratches, and his muzzle bore several more. Perhaps the most concerning was the laceration across one shoulder. It was not bleeding much, but it most assuredly would need stitches. Ishara sighed, running a hand down Raj's neck and watching her fingers tremble against his fur.

"I think we're ok," she flinched as a small shower of pebbles tumbled over the overhang...but nothing followed it. No chittering. No screeching. To be certain, Ishara pushed herself to her feet and peeked out. The only pale bunches of fur were those that had been mauled and were now lying broken on the beach and rocky slope...relief washed over her with a sigh, and Ishara turned to offer a hand to the Kelvic and help her up.

"Good job," a smile followed the words, and Ishara's worried glance was traded between her sighthound and the wounded Kelvic. "We should get cleaned up..." she trailed off, frowning. Didn't Serrif say they helped animals at Sanctuary?