☾ ——- ❝ ＥＬＹＳＩＵＭ ❞ — [ closed ]

[The Trickster~]

E V A

╔xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx╗
xxorganizer // she/her
xxlocation; the wreck
xxtags; felix, drew, reyna
xxmentions; danny
╚xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx╝

Eva had somewhat tuned out her fellow coworkers, attention devoted solely to gathering sticks. It wasn’t as if she really intended to ignore everyone else’s plights in favor of grabbing branches off the ground, but she was finding it a bit hard to focus at the moment. The shock of the crash still lingered over her, a fog clouding her brain, so it was simply easier to home in on the simple task. Grounding, almost. There were so many great sticks around for makeshift roadblocks, she didn’t even have to try very hard. In practically no time, she has enough branches gathered in her arms to build a little house, a la the three little pigs.

Since wandering off into the woods like an unsupervised toddler, Eva hadn’t looked up at the road. What was the point, really? Until she planned to go place the sticks, she hadn’t felt like seeing the carnage of whatever poor animal they had hit spread out on the pavement. But her eyes catch on the quickly gathering group, just out of range for her to hear. It takes her a moment, reviewing everyone that had been chosen to come on this trip, and she’s almost positive that only minutes before she did not have that many coworkers.

Who even were those people? Had another car already stumbled across the wreck? They were out in the middle of nowhere, with zero service. Driving out here Eva couldn’t even remember seeing a single car pass them. Were they locals? There weren’t any buildings around that she could see, how could that even be possible? Maybe they would be able to help, but she couldn’t help the unease that had settled in her stomach. The whole situation left a weird taste in her mouth, and she quickly turned, clutching the bundle of sticks a bit tighter.

It truly felt like the beginning of a horror movie. As much as Eva loved secretly watching those on her own time, bundled up tight on her couch with her cat perched happily in her lap, she had never felt the urge to actually be in one. Sure, the appeal of being the final girl was fun in theory, but she really didn’t want to test that out right now with the weird backwoods locals who appeared out of thin air. No thank you. Even thought this work trip had been prepaid for, she still felt like she needed some compensation for this whole ordeal.

Quickly, she made a beeline for the first tree she could see, not caring how loud her footsteps were as she stumbled over, twigs snapping and leaves crunching where she stepped. It takes her a moment to recognize the figure already standing at the tree, the darkness and the blood that keeps dripping into her eye no matter how much she swipes at it obstructing her view just a bit. She almost stabbed at him with her bundle of sticks before realizing that he was friend and not foe.

“Felix,” She sighs, relief evident in her voice. She’s glad it’s him, of everyone, partially because she wouldn’t want him to have to deal with whatever Stephen Kingesque thing was happening at the road, and partially because she had wanted to check on him. His looked bad, shaky and scared, not to even mention his arm. It made Eva wince to simply look at it, although she was glad he had gotten some sort of makeshift sling. Her brow furrowed as he spoke, gaze darting back up to the road even though she couldn’t actually see anything from here. Briar had been attacked? Truly, what was happening out here? She felt a surge of guilt, the realization that perhaps she had actually accidentally led them into hell hitting her.

“What do you mean it wasn’t human? That- That can’t be….” Eva trails off, sucking in a breath. Everything just kept getting worse, at record speed.“Maybe the crash is making you see things? I mean, did you hit your head at all?” She offered, trying to be helpful. Surely there isn’t some monster attacking her friends while she hides behind a tree with a bunch of sticks. Probably.

“I guess these could work as a sort of weapon, if we really needed them to. None of them are really that sharp though.” The sound of yet more twigs snapping nearby caused Eva to flinch, spinning around brandishing her ever helpful armful of sticks, only to be met by Drew, truly looking like an extra in a horror film. Where had all that blood come from? She wasn’t sure Drew even had that much blood in his body, at least not enough to still be standing if it was all over his shirt.

“Are you okay? You’re the one covered in blood.” She frowned, gesturing as best she could while holding a bundle of sticks to Drew’s shirt. It again took her a moment to actually process what Drew was talking about, confusion once again settling on her face. She had a feeling this was going to be a new permanent expression. “Inside of the van? Aren’t wolverines kind of rare to see?” That wasn’t even mentioning the fact that it had stolen Danny’s wallet. What was a wolverine going to do with a wallet?

Eva supposed she’d be able to figure that out soon enough, seeing as the animal was sprawled out much closer than she felt comfortable being to an animal known for being aggressive. Time almost seemed to slow as they all stared at it, and it almost seemed to be holding their gaze. Eva spoke, quiet, as if anything above a whisper would scare the wolverine away.

“Should we get the wallet back?”

[chase.]

𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 xxxx ♛
─────────────────────────────────────────
[ raven ] [ he/him ] [ location - road ] [ feeling - like he shouldn’t he promised coby ]

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxAs the human spoke, revealing there were eight of them, the man’s eyes narrowed. Eight. The exact number of his own pack, now they had lost Josie. A flicker of unease crawled up his spine, though his expression remained cold and impassive. It would have been a perfect mirror had it not been for the human’s one dead, and that was still uncomfortably close. The likelihood of the intruders overpowering them was slim, but still the risk was calculated. For a brief moment, doubt crept into his chest—a rare and unwelcome sensation. Helping them could mean tipping the scales in a way that threatened his own. Perhaps another one, or two might fail to make it through the night, and produce better odds. If he hadn’t been so distracted by his inner turmoil, he’d have sneered at the stranger’s tone in which he named Mercer. The audacity to cry for help and then turn around and accuse one of his so boldly? Even if it was warranted, the disrespect irked the raven. ‘Maybe Mercer can finish the job, that might serve as a lesson in minding manners.’ He growled internally. The faint chant of ‘hypocrite’ bled through Rio, he himself often spoke callously; and had he’d been in the tall man’s position he too would have made the same cold remark. Rio simply exhaled gently through his nose, blinking slowly. If Mercer wasn’t going to take the bait, then neither would he.

Ennis. So that was the name of their casualty. The mention of an ambulance caused Rio to cock an eyebrow. He pitied the human’s hopeful innocence, yet such pity was laced with disdain. Disappointment welled up inside him, cold and deep, though it was no longer a surprise. The persistent, irrational hope that humans harboured in the face of death proved redundant and futile time after time, and yet people like this man still seemed to cling to it. The judgement only intensified as the man crouched; pulling Mercer’s victim into a gentle embrace. Rio watched in silence. How naive; the human’s touch, the soft murmurs of reassurance, the sickeningly sweet pet names—none of it would change the reality of their situation. No amount of coddling would wash away the truth—although the older man had certainly tried to reject the injured boy’s frantic declarations. If not for the blonde who’d also witnessed Mercer’s shift, Rio would have been tempted to join the theme of denial. Dismantling the man’s faith in his memory and painting him as the boy who cried wolf could have been laughably easy with the stranger’s accidental gaslighting. Trust humans to be incapable of comprehending something they’d never personally encountered before.

The man shifted again, breaking the hug—but still failed to acknowledge Rio or Mercer. Rio watched the scene unfold with a mixture of disgust and impatience, being disregarded stung more than he cared to admit, his ego splintering as he stood stoically. His dark eyes narrowed in disapproval as another pet name was breathed. It was a foreign concept to Rio—such open, unashamed affection shown before strangers. It was incomprehensible to him. Moments of tenderness and vulnerability were reserved for the privacy of the cabin, safely tucked away from the eyes of the world. Even then, they were still rare from Rio. Begrudgingly he’d admit that he’d grown soft for his pack, but the idea of laying his emotions bare in the open, where they could be seen, dissected and judged by strangers? To be so exposed and unguarded? That was beyond him. Rio didn’t understand it, nor did he want to. Instead he moved to drop his gaze; repelled by the spectacle.

His sight had drifted to the wreckage for just a second before it snapped back to the two strangers. For a split second he’d convinced himself that he’d misheard, that there was no way the driver had been given up so easily. And then the stranger, in an attempt to be soothing, doubled down, confirming his stance. Rio’s breath caught for an instant, his heart slowing. The raven stood there, cradling the product of the man’s carelessness in his arms. Feigned indifference drained from his face, once again replaced by a simmering rage that he struggled to suppress—his jaw clenched and he stared at the boy on the floor. It shouldn’t have been so unexpected, he’d foolishly believed Ennis to have been the culprit. The humans might not be the only naive ones after all. The shadows on the tarmac shifted imperceptibly, and Rio’s hackles raised. Mercer. Whereas Rio’s own fury was tightly controlled, a silent tempest within, Mercer was different—volatile and unpredictable like wildfire. He needed time to think, time to recalibrate his thoughts. Time Mercer wasn’t going to grant him, unless..

Rio gave Josie to him, the movement forceful and not even remotely as delicate as he wished it could have been; driven by the concern that Mercer would outright refuse if given the illusion of choice by a gentle transfer. As Josie’s weight left his arms, he became acutely aware of the subtle aching burn that spread across them; but it did little to distract the man. Now, the truth—ugly and raw—hung in the air between the opposing sides, suffocatingly thick. His fingers twitched involuntarily at his side, longing to lash out. A flood of bitter emotions churned within, betrayal, fury, grief, but he swallowed them down—expression taut with restraint. He understood Mercer’s desire to tear into the driver, he too longed to exact the same justice that had been so cruelly dealt to his friend. The other man could go too, whilst he was at it—for showing such care, such tenderness, for the one responsible for the atrocity. The desire for retribution coiled in his chest like a serpent, and Rio fought to pin it down.

“Tread carefully, I offer aid out of obligation to one I care for, not out of need for my own conscience. You owe my second a great deal of appreciation for this.” Rio murmured at last, his voice strained and tense. The words served as a reminder of his promise to Coby, breathed into life to make them that much more secure. He’d given his word to her, and perhaps Mercer might yet forgive him for the weakness. Soft. He’d gone unbelievably, pathetically, soft. Rio stepped forward, looking down at the injured driver, assessing the state the human was in with a cold indifference as he continued speaking. “You’ve taken someone from us, for that I will not forgive you. But I will keep my word.” Rio’s eyes lingered on the injured as he addressed the other man. “There will be no ambulances. I can offer the services of my medic, if he is inclined to help, but we will not be driving you anywhere—not tonight.” Not for the foreseeable actually, now that there had been multiple witnesses to Mercer’s shift. Humans were fragile though, they flocked together like lambs and spooked like chickens; denying them their freedom was only going to make them claustrophobic and temperamental. “You are welcome to walk back the way you came, if you are that inclined to leave.” Rio clicked his tongue. “Can’t say I would recommend it. Instead you may stay with us—those of you who are able to walk there, atleast. Do as you wish with any who aren’t mobile, leave them, carry them, that decision is yours.”

The shifter paused, finally moving his eyes from the injured driver and to the man he’d been addressing with his answers. His lip curled in distaste at the sight, ivory teeth glinting through the gap. He opened his mouth to talk again, a threat on his tongue—a demand to not speak so disrespectfully of his pack members as he did earlier with Mercer. But instead Rio noticed another presence on the road, dirty-blonde and tall. Soren, he presumed—the only other man named thus far. He’d seen him earlier as a raven, minding Ennis. If he’d left his post..well maybe this would be the knock into reality the tall man seemed to so desperately need.

[ inventory : n/a ]

[ tags : mercer, danny, briar ] [ mentions : coby, soren ]

[chase.]

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐘xxxx ♛
─────────────────────────────────────────
[ security ] [ he/him ] [ location - road > wreckage] [ feeling - like off-brand Snow White ]

xxxxx

xxxxxThe pain of having his nose readjusted helped to ground the security guard; and his breathing finally evening out. He grimaced, but despite the discomfort he flashed a crooked grin at Soren. ‘Oh, Soren, the man you are.’ If not for the jarringly British accent of the stranger and the frantic yelps from Briar, Collie might’ve even forgotten the situation they’d all found themselves in and instead imagined himself in a simpler time. Sprawled across Soren’s couch, watching his dog beg with the other blonde for just a small bite of the cheap takeout they’d haphazardly reheated in the rather sketchy microwave. God, what he’d do to just crack open a beer and settle down with his best friend, drunkenly howling the night away—much to the chagrin of any neighbours. Collie inhaled through his nose; air finally being able to pass through. “You, Soren, are the best. I don’t tell you that enough.” Collie breathed, laying a hand on Soren’s shoulder to steady himself. A dull pressure spread across the bridge of his nose, but the pain was overshadowed by the feeling of being able to breathe properly again. Soren was bleeding from his head, and Collie’s fingers hovered above the man’s temple. “I’m glad to see you survived, knew you would—ox of a man.” Collie chuckled, before his smile dropped as he caught a glimpse of Ennis, covered by a jacket. Oh.

“I’m sorry man.” Collie sighed, now his turn to offer Soren’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. There were no words that could make it easier, and Collie kicked himself for it. Everyone reacted to tragedy in different ways, and Collie was just selfishly glad it had been Ennis and not one of the others, like Soren or Briar. He ran his bloodied hand through his hair, sighing. “We can splint it later, you go do what you’ve gotta do. I’ll go see if there’s anything useful in our bags.” He replied, head hanging towards the ground. Golden strands of stained hair obscured his vision as he screwed his eyes shut, steeling himself to leave the safety of Soren’s presence. If North America ever went to war, Collie would throw away his citizenship to join Soren, that was for certain.

With a last squeeze, Collie stepped past Soren, carefully skidding down the muddy embankment towards the wreckage. About halfway he paused, “If the man with tattoos moves towards you, shout for me or the dog! Don’t turn your back on either of them—” He called back up the slope. If they survived this whole ordeal, there would be time enough later to sit there and process the existence of goddamned werewolves. For now though, Collie needed his sanity intact so he could stand a chance at helping his colleagues, he just wouldn’t think too hard about what he’d witnessed. Yes, now that was a good plan. Their luggage was mostly on the grass, and Collie tilted his head as he approached — vaguely away of Captain who had followed him obediently down the bank. At least someone had the forethought to save their belongings amidst the chaos, Eva, perhaps? He doubted it would’ve been Drew, nor Felix with the state of his arm. Collie winced, right, he still owed the lanky kid an apology—flowers too, probably. How had he been in two wrecks, and come out of both being directly responsible for a mangled right arm? Would he graduate to a left arm if he survived a third wreck? Collie scrunched his broken nose up at the thought—immediately groaning in reflex as the pain flared across his face.

With his left hand, he tugged at the straps on his threadbare duffel bag, dragging it across the grass and towards the area illuminated by the van’s headlights. It unzipped easily, and Collie immediately scolded himself for his lazy packing skills. It seemed like folding his clothes was the bare minimum with everything rammed in with seemingly no thought or consideration for organisation. A stuffed dog lay on top, and Collie gently picked it up, running his fingers over the faux fur. “Here buddy, you can hold this, it’ll make you feel better.” Collie spoke aloud, stretching his arm out towards the shepherd, offering the stuffed toy. Nothing. Collie looked to the side, gently shaking his wrist to encourage Captain, “It’s alright, you can have—” ‘Oh come on!’ The shepherd was staring past Collie, pupils constricted and hackles bristled. A low chuff sounding from his muzzle. Collie swallowed thickly, fighting off a second wave of panic. Slowly he turned, an unsettling chill creeping up his spine. ‘Again, seriously, again?’

The panic drained away almost instantaneously as he saw the dog. It wasn’t a type of dog he was familiar with, rusty in colour, short-furred with larger ears—but he was certain it wasn’t a wolf, and that was a tremendous upgrade from his earlier experience. Collie let his knees sink in the grass as he stilled, staying in-between the two canines. “They’re not hurtin’ you, leave off.” Collie chided the shepherd lightly, watching softly as the dog laid on the grass, not quite willing to take its eyes off the other, but trusting Collie enough to calm for the time being. With his own dog settled, he moved his attention to the other, setting the stuffed animal down. “Sorry ‘bout him, he’s just a little rattled.” Crazy. Collie had gone completely barmy. He was talking to two dogs whilst there was a creature straight out of Grimm’s fairytales likely eyeing up his friends. Still he couldn’t bring himself to get up and leave. “You weren’t caught up in this ordeal, right sweetheart? Where’d you come from?” Collie asked, mostly to himself. The canine didn’t look injured, it seemed to be standing evenly on its legs, that was a good sign. Though it was a strange sight, a dog in the middle of nowhere— ‘Oh Christ what if it belongs to the strangers? Don’t be so stupid Collie, of course it belongs to the strangers.’ Collie wrung his hands together, trying to relieve some of the creeping stress.

The canine stood unnervingly close to Ennis, and the blonde didn’t have the slightest clue what to do about it. Were they hungry? Please don’t try and eat Ennis, he would not cope with explaining that to Danny. Collie tilted his head, one hand quietly rustling in the duffel bag, rummaging around various items of clothing. “Hold on a second—” Collie murmured, as if the dog could understand him. A crinkling noise sounded from the bag, and he retrieved the pouch with a satisfied grin. “Hungry?” He asked, tipping one of the freeze-dried chicken cubes into his hand and carefully tossing it towards the animal. Maybe feeding a stranger’s dog was not the brightest thing, Collie didn’t fancy being mauled for a bag of overpriced dog treats.

[ inventory : pocket knife, teddy bear, dog treats ]

[ tags, soren > coby] [ mentions, everyone ]

[n ‎]

❝ 𝗕𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗥 𝗝𝗜𝗡🡖 ꏢ ❟❟
└──────────────────┐

''│
the driver :( | he/him | (@) the wreck
tags; danny rio| mentions; the dead

└──────────────────┘


briar felt the annoyance bubbling almost over the fear in his throat, his hands balled into shaky
fists as he only stared at danny in disbelief - his eyes following collie's exit with shock and
horror as he only allowed his eyes to scan around the group around him. not a single person
was listening to anything briar was telling them, not even briar was trying to give them the
answers. he knew he was speaking incoherently - he could hear himself and the things that
were coming out of his mouth, but that didn't stop the absolute frustration, either.

he didn't know what he had just saw, he knew he couldn't have been hallucinating the entire ordeal. even with the blood dripping
down the back of his neck and how dizzy he was feeling, unsure if he could even keep his head on straight he could still see every
thing going on around him. he saw the hushed whispers between the people in the group. he saw the grim reaper speak harshly
to the man who had turned from a wolf back into his human hide within seconds. briar had always talked about and joked about
how bad the lore of shifters were, but the moment he was even possibility presented with the idea of one he didn't have anything
he could think of to make fun to help him feel any better in the moment. not a single thing briar would think of to deflect the
situation in front of him. briar only allowed his eyes to wander around the group they were in front of as much as he could before
his vision kept going in and out from the blurriness of the tears welding up in his eyes, whether he liked it or not. whatever they
had hit was long and sleek and black - briar closed his eyes tightly and looked down. what if it turned into a human when he looked
back? what had they gotten themselves into?

shaking his head again, briar could only let out a strained hiccup. he was trying so hard to fight back his tears for multiple reasons.
he was scared, he was hurt horribly, and he wasn't even sure he was going to be able to get out of this with his body still attached
to his soul. he didn't like crying, especially not in front of people like this, but he could only feel his cool cracking at every little
word spoken and movement he could see in the corners of his eyes. "no, danny, n-no," he shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows
tightly again as he held his own neck in his hand gently, his lip quivering as he was unsure where to even let his eyes rest on. "yes,
but- but no, but-" danny interrupted again, already finding blame in the man that was a dog two seconds before. damnit, why
couldn't have danny been over here five seconds ago? and why did collie have to leave? collie saw the damn dog human! briar
couldn't even get the words to go straight in his head, let alone trying to explain to danny what was going on.

"Danny," he tried again, his frown only deepening as he looked at him again, his eyes desperately shooting around the wreckage
and the people around him desperately hoping for someone to talk for him. to vouch for him, anyone to just say they saw what
he saw. he couldn't get the words out, his chest felt like it was constricting and trying to hold too tightly onto his lungs and heart.
briar couldn't listen to anything else going on, no words were registering into his head. he couldn't listen, not when he had saw
something so shocking and not a single person around him was listening to him or willing to try and put his words together. he was
begging for danny's gaze to return to him, to look back at him so briar could attempt to explain some more, but he was never given
his grace. though briar almost regretted wishing so hard for danny's attention, with him only returning it to give him news he wasn't
exactly ready for.

briar's gaze dropped instantly. he didn't even try to hold danny's gaze, not even when he could see his eyes clearly anyway. his heart
had dropped almost as far as his stomach did in his chest, nausea creeping up on him from the news faster than any of the physical
injuries had actually affected him, his hands shaky as he couldn't even keep his mind straight. what did he mean ennis was doing
poorly? what did the grim reaper mean by still breathing? wouldn't the grim reaper know better? and at the root of the entire
problem, the entire situation, sat briar. who was the one at the wheel at the time of the collision and ultimately was the one at
fault for the whole situation.

he suddenly felt the weight on his chest like he had stacked bricks onto it, a brick for every casualty. holy crap. he felt like he was
a murderer right in that moment. he felt like the blood on his hands wasn't just his anymore, and the weight of the world was
shifted underneath him.

briar had to step one foot back to keep himself from completely collapsing again, even with danny's grip on him if briar's knees
decided to give out randomly he was just going to sink the ground again. not only was danny not listening to the things briar was
so sure he had seen, but briar was now also just a killer. he had felt a similar feeling like doom before, but never to the extent
he had in his chest in that moment. the ribs that were once earlier only protecting his heart and lungs so tightly now felt like
they were constricting dangerously - like his own body had heard of the sins and atrocities he had committed and wanted to
take him out of the vessel themselves.

he couldn't stop his own body's reaction to the news, either. he knew not to have faith in these kind of situations. he had learned
all too well that these situations were never something he could easily look for a silver lining or saving grace in. he didn't know
how he was supposed to. even if he wanted to argue with himself in the moment, that the crash was just an accident, he felt
so stupid and worthless. he had never felt so doomed and undeserving in his entire life. he could only silently wish he was in
ennis' shoes instead of what happened now. the knot in his throat only tightening enough that briar couldn't even try to hold back
the sob that came out of his mouth, his hands balling tightly into his fists as he only let his head hang down in pure shame. he felt
so undeserving of danny's words and hugs.

briar only stopped crying to hiss at the contact of danny's hand on his fresh wound - his nose scrunching painfully at the sting from
the back of his head, forgetting his injuries almost too easily. he was putting himself through enough mental torture, the physical
state of his body only seemed to begin the mirror what was going on his head in that moment. briar didn't want to hear about the
forgiveness from everyone. he didn't deserve it. even if it was true they forgave him, he didn't believe he deserved any of it. his
stomach was twisting uncomfortably just from hearing everything spoken around him. hearing danny ask briar to listen to him only
made him let out another desperate sob. "you're not listening to me," he let out slowly, the first coherent sentence of the night.

"he's the damn dog, danny," briar gritted through his teeth, shaking his head against danny's chest in anger, mostly towards
himself more than anyone. danny wasn't listening, but it wasn't like briar was worth listening to right now anyway. not when he
was so incoherent andrew's drunk texts made more sense than him. "he's the damn dog, he was a dog and now he's a human,
but he's the damn dog, " he sobbed out desperately, his voice cracking and raising, he was desperate to be heard. if one was
able to do it, who else was? with briar turning around slightly to look back at the group, the body that was once in the grim
reaper's hands now a human woman in the dog's hands, briar only let his head hang again as he stopped holding back the tears
that were desperately clawing at the back of his eyes, horrified and desperate sobs as he flicked his hoodie sleeve over his hand
to cover his mouth tightly to muffle himself. how many were there? he didn't even know they were real, and suddenly there was
a dead one and a living one that had tackled him in front of him, and who knows how many more? for all they knew, the others
in front of him were also able to do it. briar was sick to his stomach.

"god i'm so sorry," he managed to slip out through his broken breaths, embarrassed by how hard he was crying and horrified by
how he couldn't even get himself to move without danny, and danny wasn't budging. briar wished he could just die in that
moment, drop down dead the moment they all stop looking at him.

[n ‎]

❝ 𝗦𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗠 𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗚🡖 ꏢ ❟❟
└──────────────────┐

''│
mr medic| he/they | (@) home ty
tags; nish court vic|mentions; missing

└──────────────────┘


salem's favorite time of the day was night time.

whether it was because that meant he got to go to sleep and finally rest after a long day, o
r whether he got to stargaze with rio again and learn more about the constellations he was
pointing out. he often had to repeat questions asked previously before, but it wasn't
because salem wasn't listen. it was to make sure he was listening closely, instead.

they didn't get to stargaze tonight. the clouds were covering most of the sky from what they could see and predict, so they had
separated ways after moments of time together. salem thought about searching after the leader a couple times through out the
night after they had separated, wondering if the clouds had maybe parted anywhere they could even just see a peak or maybe
even paint together, but salem ended up opting against it. his body felt like it had been stretched out and pulled apart all day,
his muscles tired from nothing in particular. salem was always tired, he was chronically tired. it was almost too hard to get his
motor running sometimes. being the medic, he knew he probably had the resources to watch himself and figure it out himself,
but yet again, he was just too tired to help himself with something he didn't deem important. everyone else was placed above
salem in his own little totem pole - so therefore, even if he was tired to a concerning point, if someone needed his help first,
he was always going to answer their call first.

always.

or maybe it was just excuses at this point.

a majority of the nights that weren't spent with rio were often with nish and maybe even reyna in his room later at night, doing
their storytelling spiels and reading everything they could together. it was mostly mystery books, like murder mysteries, thrillers,
and the books that they often had to set up their own bulletin board to keep track of their theories so they could all talk together
and theorize later on. they didn't make for the best kind of bedtime stories, often more times than not leaving salem struggling
to fall asleep due to his mind being hyperactive and excited and moving, but he didn't know if it helped nish or reyna sleep at all.
he assumed it did, as the bear usually slept in salem's room after story times anyway and, well, he didn't hear much from reyna
so he usually took it as a good sign. he loved it when she joined the reading sessions, he would only hate it if it didn't help her
sleep or at least keep her entertained when she was looking for some.

tonight was no different - after the silence had ended up being too much and nish found his way to salem's room anyway, salem
was too excited to get a book ready to read for them at the late a.ms of the morning. salem had issues falling asleep sometimes
anyway, even if all he did was lay around sometimes. it was like he just didn't know how to turn off his thoughts at night because
of how quiet the world tends to get. it was a bother, but at least it wasn't something he had to frequently deal with, the company
of others being in the room with him often somehow filling the noise up in his head enough, even if all he could hear was their
breathing and occasional rustling from the movements of their bodies. salem hadn't had the chance to fall asleep yet, they had
only turned off the lights and quit reading twenty minutes ago. salem didn't know how long it exactly took nish to fall asleep, but
with how little time had passed since lights out, the sound that came roaring through the dark trees was loud and sudden enough
to wake anyone up. salem couldn't even pretend to be disturbed other than just being startled from the sudden noise, he sat up
in the bed quickly, pursing his lips as he turned on theswitch on his nightstand to illuminate the small fairy lights strung around the
bedroom, chewing on his bottom lip gently as he stared at the awakening nish. "loud as hell, huh?" he muttered at him, shaking
his head in distaste.

rubbing the back of his head lightly, salem only shook his head as he shifted himself out of the warm bed, almost hesitant to pull
his legs from the warm blanket, regretting choosing shorts to bed as the cold air hit his upper thighs and knees quickly. he shook
his legs in his place as he rubbed his arms quickly with his hands, warming up his body like he was just walking out into the freshly
fallen snow. "nish," he said quickly and softly, allowing himself to bounce towards the small chair by the corner of the room, pulling
the blue hoodie off of it to pull onto his body, only dressing to begin wandering the house with more clothes on, salem only used
the heel of his foot to spin on the hardwood floor with his sock, easily facing the taller man across the room from him. "i'm gonna
go downstairs and see if anyone's up. maybe we're going somewhere," salem muttered, almost rolling his eyes at the idea as his
hand lingered on the doorknob in front of him. "you can come with me downstairs if you want, otherwise i'll just come back." he
nodded, mostly to himself before rubbing his eyes tiredly.

as he slowly left the room, salem only allowed himself to bounce around the hallway towards the stairs, slowing down before he
reached the end before quickly spinning around on his heel again and sliding to his room, peaking his head back into the room.
"actually, nish, imma run to another cabin really quick. just so you know," he nodded, before closing his bedroom door behind
him, leaving it only a crack open in case nish wanted to leave or decided to stay and close it the entire way to wait for salem to
come back. returning back onto his quest to figure out what was going on, salem stopped quickly in front of reyna's room to knock
on her door gently, not hard but loud enough to make a bit of sound. no answer. salem furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but
only nodded. either she was asleep and he didn't want to bother her awake, or she was being a sneaky little rat. either way, salem
trusted her and hoped she was having good dreams about carrots or something. he didn't know what wolverines dreamed of.

nodding one more time, salem only decided on a small detour to the loft just for a moment. if rio needed a reason salem could
always just say ... nothing, he had no excuse prepared, he was just going to go knock on his door. doing the same thing for reyna's
room on his door, salem only let the frown take over his lips visibly as he was also greeted with silence. where was everyone?
quickly turning on his heel one more time, salem took advantage of his socks on the wood floor as he slid his entire way towards
the staircase and slid down them not as gracefully, not exactly running but definitely making speed to the front door with his
socks on the floor. he slipped on his sneakers he left by the door easily, shoving his heel in before pulling his shorts down his thighs
further. looking around the darker living room, seeing if there was anyone around, before sliding his small frame out of the front
door and began running for the rare moments in his life towards coby and josie's cabin.

the cold air hit him immediately - his face scrunching lightly as he already began shivering. it was october, he knew what to expect
with the weather. but damn, was the cold still unbearable on his legs and bare skin. the cold helping motivate him to speed up
towards the cabin, salem could see his breath in the cold air with the sigh he let out as he finally reached the two's cabin. he
knocked on it gently as well, but the knock a little louder just hoping to get someone's attention...... silence. what? salem looked
around confused, his eyes wandering the dark forest behind him before he knocked again, this time a bit louder than before. still
nothing. what was going on? usually salem never worried when they weren't answering their door, but that was because it was easy
to find another person who knew where they were. where was anyone at all? the way salem was already planning out the speech
he was going to give to josie about not leaving him a note when they all decide to leave or at least not saying goodbye when they
all got back, his mind was brewing quickly.

"hello?? josie? coby?" salem called out again, knocking one more time, louder than he felt comfortable knocking on anyone's door.
the urgency in his movements was obvious, but no one was there to even watch. "what the hell," he muttered to himself, shaking
his head in confusion before he turned back to the house in defiance, slowly walking only because he used his energy running all
the way over there. plus, the pit of anxiety in his stomach felt like it was weighing him down, making it harder to move his body
with the extra weight. he only lifted his head up with another sigh as he saw the living room's lights on, the yellow color
illuminating through the windows. did nish get up and turn on the lights? salem only opened the front door with a more careless
swing than usual only to be greeted by the image of courtney and vic - salem's hands immediately dropping down to pull his shorts
further down his thighs again, his face flushing a quick color of red being caught by the two shifters.

'where is everyone?" salem asked quickly, a confused huff leaving his nose as he closed the door behind him, the cold air making
him shiver. "not even rio's answering his door."

[guh-huh!]

❛xＣＯＵＲＴＮＥＹ　！
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xxfemale // caribou // feeling: are ya ready kids? // tagged: vic! salem!
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xx'xxupon spending a half second alone in the harsh artificial cabin light, she casually reminds herself that not everybody would want to get up to her antics: especially in the middle of the night to look for a noise that may or may not be her imagination running wild. she does think, momentarily, about turning the lights in the cabin off and returning to her room for some well-needed sleep, but her hand stops darting out towards the light switch when victoria emerges from her room. seemingly on the same page as courtney, with an eyebrow raised in uncertainty. even hank appears on edge, ears pointed upright and chest pronounced as he pushes forward past the door.

xx'xx"oh thank god, i thought i was going crazy," courtney says, wiping a free hand over her face and freeing the anxiety from her frown. she crosses her arms against her body, trying to give the impression that she was confident in her ability to find the source of the noise by herself. in the dark. alone. as a five foot three woman, armed only with a paper tube she'd kept in her room after wrapping gifts for the rest of the packmates' birthdays. so yeah- she exuded confidence in this type of situation.

xx'xx"i wanted to go investigate, but i'd be much more secure with a trusted friend by my side. i think whatever is out there wouldn't hesitate to attack two pretty gals like us, but a caribou and cougar might make anybody shake in their boots." this allows a bit of confidence to seep back in her, however small. courtney reaches down to let hank sniff her hand before smoothing a hand over his ears. "and of course, with hank to protect us? we'd be pretty much unstoppable." she's not so much scared of getting hurt herself than she is of taking others down with her, but she's willing to bet that whatever made that noise was nothing short of a tree falling the woods and she was simply close enough to hear it.

xx'xxor maybe a truck overturned and dropped a large load of key lime pies and the face moisturizer she's been missing since she wasn't on shopping duty last week and god forbid reyna remembers the brand she likes over legitimately anything else. (reyna had returned with a tech deck skateboard, two feastables bars, and no expensive face cleanser that courtney had reminded her twice to get).

xx'xxjust as courntey felt the tension relieve from her shoulders, the door swings open to reveal a slightly peeved salem, who looks a tinge more alarmed than her and victoria building up the courage to leave the cabin. as salem begins to describe the situation a bit more, courtney can't help but feel a little bit more apprehensive than she was beforehand. enough to make a cold chill go down her spine, shaking her body slightly in the cookie monster pajama bottoms she already regrets not changing out of.

xx'xxpicking softly at a string on her shirt, courtney weighs her options. "if rio's not around, then the situation is probably pretty serious. i know he would probably like us to sit and wait it out, but i also don't want to sit around doing nothing if they're in trouble." she nods, using both her hands as if they were the balance of justice themselves. "i say we all head out to see what the noise was, but we can keep our distance from whatever's going on. i trust rio to figure out the situation, but unless they're in trouble; i don't think we should make ourselves known. y'know, in case it makes the situation worse."

xx'xxshe nods her head decisively, trying to make the most out of their dire situation by assigning herself some sort of leadership role while rio was gone. if anybody was going to steer this abandoned ship, it was probably going to be her, right? she wouldn't lead her packmates to disaster.

xx'xx"come on," she says, opening the door. "maybe they're just... setting up a surprise birthday party for nish?" she attempts to salvage the situation before waiting for the others to follow in suit, already finding her footing against her newfound caribou hooves smacked against the ground.

xx'xxafter all, what's the worst that could've happened?

[друг]

❝ If I was aware of the open outside, of the planets and the citiesxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxand the flowers and the bedrooms — I’d go away for too long now

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⯭ ⋅ ── ⋅ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐋𝐋 ⋅ ─ ⋅

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tagging; collie, danny
mentioned; mercer, briar, rio
location; the road
thirty-two ⋅ cismale, he/himx⋅xcontractor

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indentCollie's smile was contagious, and Soren mirrored it with a beaming white grin of his own. He had done a pretty good job after all, telling by how Collie appeared to be breathing much easier, and some flattery from his best friend was a welcome change in the midst of everything else that had happened. He let Collie probe at the cut on his forehead, partially hoping to keep him distracted from his worries for a little longer now that his mind seemed to be on other matters. He only winced a bit at the stinging sensation that came and went as the cut had gone from a state of active bleeding to a dull, warm throbbing. Considering what could have happened, he had survived with hardly a scratch. He and Collie had been lucky.
indentindentindent"Like you didn't just shrug off a broken nose — what are you, Clark Kent?" he joked in return, but his smile soon fell alongside Collie's, and he gave a solemn nod of his head. He wasn't terribly disturbed by the fleeting thought that it could have ended much worse for himself. Things had gone the way they had, and that was it for Soren. Yet if only everything were so simple and straightforward.
indentindentindent"Yeah... I've been putting off telling Danny, but that ain't fair to him," he admitted, and mirrored his friend by drawing a callused hand through the hair falling onto his own forehead. The comforting squeeze of his shoulder infused a little courage into him, to face the most bitter part of their entire situation. Soren couldn't bring Ennis back, but he could decide how he handled the aftermath. He could do that honourably, at least.
indentindentSoren patted the bicep of the hand on his shoulder, then mustered a feeble smile. They would rally and come out of this as sane as was humanely possible. Collie, at least, appeared to be almost back to his usual self.
indentindentindent"We've got this, brother. We'll make it through. Go help out our friends. But no more hitting things with your face until we get you that splint."

indentindentIt was only as he watched Collie precariously make his way down the slope that Soren realised he had never gotten an answer to his question about what had happened on the road. Collie hadn't necessarily evaded the question, but Soren didn't think he would have left without an explanation had he had the words to explain it. Against every instinct, Soren was a little curious. The tattooed man...? And as strange as the instructions were, he trusted Collie pretty much unconditionally. No turning my back, got it. He looked again down the black stretch of the road, and the figures gathered there. If only scoping out the group hadn't meant needing to break the news to Danny and inevitably ruin whatever scrap of hope he must have been clinging to just to stay functional. Soren just couldn't hang around him without telling him the truth. Enough stalling — for real, this time.

indentindentSoren walked closer, suddenly conscious of the blood on his hands. Had the situation not been so dreadful, he might have marveled at the clarity of the night sky this far out in the middle of nowhere. Now it merely served to illuminate the small congregation of friends and strangers, and by instinct, he looked over the state of his friends first. Briar was clearly barely on his feet, bloodied and bruised, his face tear-stained. A pang of compassion struck Soren, to even glimpse the surface of what their driver must have been going through. Danny seemed to be doing his best to comfort him. Soren himself had no desire to add to the tragedy of the situation, but he couldn't come up with an excuse strong enough to justify withholding this knowledge from Danny any longer without digging himself into some kind of hole. Ennis didn't deserve to lay abandoned in the grass. He deserved care, and to have a loved one by his side, tending to any arrangements that needed to be made. He deserved a proper burial, if that was all they could do out here.

indentindentAs if his entering the area had broken some kind of spell, the piercing gaze of the grim stranger fell on him. Any semblance of a stolid soldier, a bold marine, seemed to flee from him. It was the last thing he had expected to feel, but he was nervous. Like he had unknowingly stumbled onto the stage in the middle of a high school play, and the spotlight had fallen onto his conspicuous, confused self. Soren swallowed, his mouth dry. It was beginning to sink in that he had made a decision, a choice, no matter how hopeless one of the alternatives had been. All he could hope for was that Danny wouldn't see it that way. It didn't seem right to start making excuses for himself right now, to grope for a defence to his actions when Danny likely just wanted to hear the status of his boyfriend. And besides, this wasn't about Soren. It was about Danny. But the guilt was making itself known. Would someone else have tried for longer? Would Collie have?

indentindentThen there was the tattooed man, with what must have been a body in his arms. Was this what had rattled Collie so effectively? If there hadn't been something even more pressing on his mind, Soren might have stopped to ruminate on how their car accident had been the result of a collision with a person, and not a deer. That was, most definitely, a crime of some kind. This tattooed man returned his gaze with a coldness in his eyes that rivaled the grim man's, and it nearly made Soren shiver. Those were the eyes of a killer, something he could last remember having glimpsed in a sniper from another unit, right before he had started believing the other devil dogs when they'd claimed, without much evidence it seemed, that snipers tended to be sociopaths — the kind of people to whom taking a life was less a moral quandary and more something inconsequential. Either way, young private Haskell had quickly absconded from that tent. And if Collie didn't trust someone, especially after such a brief encounter, there must have been a good reason.

indentindentSoren approached Danny, doing his best to avoid disturbing the glass and pooled blood on the road, as if it had gained some sort of sanctity in the short time after the crash. He wished the right thing to say would have simply popped into his head, already fully formed and infinitely comforting, but he had never really been a poet, and the thought of repeating some worn-out platitude didn't sit right with him. His gaze dropped as soon as it found Danny's face, and for a few seconds, he sort of just stood there, trying to scrape out a few words from his throat. Would this have been easier if Ennis were a box of belongings to send back home? A pair of dog tags sitting on an empty bed? Eventually, he simply stepped into Danny's space and gently brought his arms up, wrapping them around him, still never turning his back on the tattooed man, as silly as it felt to consider something like that now.
indentindentindent"Danny, I— I'm sorry," he finally spoke. He didn't know how to put it, how he could have placed Ennis' name in the same sentence with death, especially when they had all just been enjoying a road trip in a rental van. Things had changed so fast, and maybe he was still a little bit in denial over having even been in a car crash. Something about the night made it all seem slightly surreal, like a bad dream. But it was becoming clear that he might not have even needed to say the words — by his reaction, Danny must have understood. At least that was how Soren interpreted his concerning stillness, the lack of reciprocation in the embrace that he had hoped could have been even somewhat comforting in the face of such an incomprehensible loss. He could feel his throat tightening. Soren didn't cry easily, or often, and so he fought against the burning in his eyes.

indentindentSlowly, he let his arms fall from around Danny to spare him from feeling like he needed to return the gesture, and he stepped back to give him some space. The last thing he wanted to do was to make Danny feel as if he was the one responsible for comforting Soren, when they should have all been doing everything within their capabilities to lighten Danny's burden. It really wasn't helping that the two pale, black-haired strangers were staring at them in the middle of such a vulnerable moment, and Soren could feel himself squirming internally. Had his old marine buddies seen him now, they might have made fun of him. Maybe that was a part of the reason he had found a different career when his contract had ended. He didn't need to add burning shame into the mixture of emotions digging its claws into his back.

[друг]

❝ watching the weather in the 4x4, with the headlights onxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxyou look pretty when you cry, and pretty when you don’t

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◈ ⋅ ─── ⋅ 𝐂𝐎𝐁𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 ⋅

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tagging; collie
mentioned; rio i love you im sorry
location; crash site
twenty-five x⋅x cisfemale, she/her x⋅x dog

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An uncomfortable weight of indecisiveness settled onto Coby's shoulders. The facts were that it was the middle of the night, these humans had no shelter, they were injured, and they had no way to reach out for help without hiking a long way in the darkness. She knew what she should have done — welcomed these humans to stay at the cabins, which were the only buildings nearby, but she had to admit to herself that she was uncertain and afraid. None of them had the best record when it came to humans. Yet these were the sorts of decisions she was supposed to make as a second, but not over Rio's head. She was about to head back to him to discuss what he thought, when she heard rustling from the slope.

indentindentCoby wasn't proud of it, but she froze again. It was the blonde man from earlier, and at his heels was the shepherd. He dug around near the back of the wrecked van, before circling toward its front, and before she knew it, she was locked in a staring contest with his dog. She hadn't been counting, but this was certainly not the first time that night she wished she were capable of turning invisible instead. Coby lowered herself closer to the ground, unpleasantly close to the body, hoping that he would simply leave without noticing her. Maybe the darkness would make her seem like a patch of muddy ground in the grass. But no, luck wasn't on her side. The shepherd kept staring, and soon enough the blonde was alerted. With painful anticipation, Coby watched as his eyes followed the shepherd's gaze to her, the strange dog crouching beside his friend's body.

indentindentThe man kneeled in the grass and called off the shepherd. Coby wasn't sure what she had been expecting, maybe shouting, or some other form of being shooed off back into the forest where she had seemingly come from, but it wasn't that. He was speaking calmly, softly, and the surprise of being called sweetheart, even if the man thought he was talking to a dog, was so disarming in the horror of the night that she almost wanted to drop her guard and take whatever comfort he was looking to offer. Even if it was being given under false pretenses. But reason, and fear, got the best of her, and she remained frozen still in her now-useless hiding spot, eyes locked onto him. Surprisingly, his nose was no longer crooked. Sometime between having been spooked by Mercer and now, someone must have fixed it for him.

indentindentCoby showed her first sign of movement by starting when the man reached into his bag. It could have been anything, another knife, or god forbid, a gun, and again, she couldn't help but watch in nervous anticipation, a leg creeping a step backwards. She should've ran off, disappeared into the darkness of the forest and never looked back, but everything about the man was simply screaming that he meant no harm. It was ridiculous and foolish, but Coby kept watching, as he pulled out a bag of... dog treats. Of course he had dog treats with him. He had a dog. Against all odds, she felt a little silly, and yet she couldn't forget that she wasn't really a dog, and he had no idea that she wasn't a dog. Hence the cube of chicken tossed her way. There was anxiety, and then there was eating chicken off the ground to keep up a facade.

indentindentIt was a dilemma that didn't come with a pre-made answer. On one hand, he seemed kind, at least right now, and he had already witnessed Mercer shift. That cat, or wolf, was already out of the bag. On the other hand, he might have just liked dogs, and he hadn't reacted all that well to what he had seen on the road. In fact, he had appeared somewhat traumatized, and Coby wasn't sure whether she wanted to be the one to resurface those emotions for him. Humans, in her experience, preferred the lie of dog-Coby to the reality of not-quite-human-Coby. Actual dogs, not so much. Would it have felt more like a betrayal to find out now that she wasn't a dog, or later, when she had kept up the lie for longer? If they were going to offer these humans shelter, him finding out seemed inevitable. It wasn't without a reason that they isolated themselves to these woods.

indentindentCoby wasn't entirely sure what the logic behind her next move was, but she offered him a very unconvincing show of her teeth, a rather terrible approximation of a snarl, and watched his face with a sort of morbid curiosity over how he would react. He didn't seem to be fazed in the slightest by her display — in fact, he appeared ready to redouble his efforts of befriending her. But before she could process this and make it a calculated part of her decision, the shepherd made the choice for her by letting out a frightening bark. The animal seemed well-trained, like the man had a handle on it, but there was no way to train an animal to be prepared for her. Not unless there was something much darker behind this crash, and she didn't even want to entertain that possibility. She wasn't getting mauled by a dog tonight.

indentindentRather sheepishly, she allowed the facade to fall. Soon the light brown fur was replaced by her own, vulnerable skin, and she was crouched in the grass, a mirror of the man on his knees. A safe distance away, but uncomfortably close to the body. She stood slowly, paradoxically afraid both of startling him and provoking him into doing anything rash. Coby shuffled further from the deceased man, until she no longer felt like she was stepping over some line of respect for the dead. She hadn't known him, but the blonde man must have. Nervous, she scrubbed at the skin of her wrist, chipping off the blood where it had dried over the tattoo.
indentindentindent"I'm sorry," she offered, unsure exactly what she was apologizing for. Their dead friend? That she could shift? Everything that had transpired? "I think your dog knows I'm not what I seem." That was one comfort, at least, that the shepherd seemed to have settled a bit now that it knew exactly what had been off about the strange dog. She watched his face carefully, equally uncomfortable with having to say something and letting the silence hang any longer. Maybe she should explain what had happened on the road. Attempting to mitigate the consequences of revealing their secret wouldn't hopefully make Rio any more upset than he already was. Mercer deserved many things, but not the pain of being hunted again. No one deserved that.
indentindentindent"And Mercer..." she started, not really sure where she was going. She worried at the inside of her lip with her teeth, suddenly hesitant over whether she should have brought him up at all. Denial could be a powerful thing, and maybe it would have been easier to pretend that his first experience with a shifter hadn't been so unpleasant. And yet, she didn't want to lie. The blonde's reaction might have been unusual, but not entirely unreasonable, considering the circumstances. "...the wolf-man, he thought you were going to hurt me."

indentindentShe let the words linger in the air between them for a while, like an implied question about if he was having any thoughts of doing anything of that sort. Coby liked to think that she had learned to read people rather well, and it didn't seem as if he had any intention of hurting her, but one could never be sure. Sometimes humans could surprise you, for good or ill. And still, the question of where they would go for the night, injured and undoubtedly exhausted, remained. The options were so very limited, and if Rio didn't agree with her, she hoped he could at least forgive her. She exhaled slowly, trying to make up her own mind.
indentindentindent"Listen... we don't live that far from here. Your friends are hurt, and I don't think it would be a good idea to try reaching the nearest town in the dark. I'm sure you could stay at least for tonight, just... we're obviously not like you. We'll need to be able to trust each other."

[Foe Paw]

[ 𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙄𝙇𝙊 𝘿𝙄𝘼𝙎 ] ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

[ leader— he/him — 39 ] [ location — road → crash ] [tagged — briar, rio, mercer, soren ]

xxxx"He's the dog." Danny repeated back, more to assure Briar that he was hearing him than anything else. The bitter complaint about not being listened to jolted him back into focusing, trying to untangle something out of the conversation. What his young coworker was saying, first with intensity and now with the frenzied upset of someone trying to say something through tears, didn't make sense, of course. Danny did - for half a beat - consider the notion that it was true, and the figue further up the road, now being handed that big dark shape, had turned into some sort of animal. Then, reality reestablished itself. He must be rattled as well for being swept up into it, when the simpler explanation was the glass dust and blood splatter on both of them. Danny was upsetting Briar, trying to extract a living truth out of the mangled metal frame of that explanation. Did he need to know it now, though?

xxxxHe gave that up as bad business and angled away from the onlookers and down towards Briar, so that they couldn't read his lips - a lawyer habit long since turned instinctual - and hoped his sincere concern would be enough for it to subsume the insincerity. "I believe you, sweetheart. Sorry. You've been through a lot, so you can explain it to me in detail later, ok? But-"

xxxxThen the pale stranger was too close, and Danny broke off from whispering, going back to focus with an apologetic nod and a "Sorry, sir. Sentiments are running high." Now that the man had stepped close enough for Danny's poor eyesight to make anything out of the darkness - the shattered glasses had done almost nothing to help - he took the opportunity to see who exactly he was speaking to. Much of the detail was lost in the black-over-black ensemble, but the face that looked up at him had intense light eyes and jaw sharp enough to cut, locked tightly enough Danny almost imagined he could hear the grinding of teeth. This man was furious. And it was starting to become clear why.

xxxxSomeone else had died.

xxxx"Oh." A beat. Say something, idiot. "My condolences." He turned his gaze over at the blurred shapes further up the road, too far for detail. He'd been left to wonder - he'd even thought, to himself, that the thing in their arms had looked body-sized. He realized he'd never had found out what exactly was it that they'd hit. He rested his free hand on the nape of Briar's neck, trying to wrestle down the nausea at the news. He wondered who that was, who'd been wandering through a dark road in the deepest parts of the night, and had ended up gruesomely dead for it. It was no wonder the man was angry, and when he spoke to them of an offer of shelter for the night and a doctor's presence, made sure to remark that if it weren't for someone's intervention, he would rather do nothing.

xxxxDanny wouldn't begrudge him anger.

xxxxThere was nothing he could say that would change this man's feelings towards what happened, sway the emotions he was entitled to from this tragedy. The more important thing was that the man's frozen-solid expression had that kind of rigid blankness that spoke of someone trying to be professional at great cost. It was a familiar look, in boardroom arguments - being courteous was a requirement of successfully negotiating any kind of contract. If the deal was bad for you, you'd best learn how to keep it down, because losing face meant losing, period. It was the sort of thing that Danny couldn't really get the hang of, which had usually relegated him to the backlines of these meetings. He handed over notes for someone else to argue. He knew the technical part well, but he could never hide disdain or anger from someone you were supposed to be polite to, or satisfaction when they were supposed to be doing a wounded bird routine. He could, however, be professional. This man was doing his best - he was welcome to his anger. Danny would do his best to reciprocate, to keep the horror at what was revealed in front of them and the fear of what was waiting back at the crash away from his face and voice; he needed to be calm, and rational, and navigate them through it. Nobody needed Danny the worried boyfriend right now; they also had things he needed to get out of this.

xxxxTo wit - to make sure his friends would have shelter and passage and medical treatment when the only source had a very clear reason to begrudge them it. Ennis- Ennis. The lot of them, lost in the woods at night. Briar would have enough people against him, in the following days. He needed at least one in his corner. Which was why, for all that Danny understood the anger, he couldn't let the man wield it against Briar. So, he listened solemnly to the man's speech, but before replying he took a moment to whisper to Briar. "I'm advising you not to take the blame for this. Don't say it's your fault. If you can, say nothing to them."

xxxxHe cleared his throat, and focused back on the man. "I assure you of our gratitude, sir. I'll be sure to relay it to your second as soon as possible. My condolences again. Hopefully, soon, we'll be able to find out exactly what happened." He said mildly, trying to underline that last part. He wasn't any sort of lawyer who'd ever got involved with car crash cases, but he understood the principles well enough. Maybe Briar had been neglectful - maybe he'd taken every reasonable precaution. Danny didn't know, he was asleep when it happened. Nobody here knew, yet - wouldn't until the light of day could help them trace out what happened. It'd be worse for Briar if they bandied around accusations - or even if he took the blame by apologizing, as instinct would demand after such a thing. He still didn't know what was up with the Mercer person, that had rattled Briar so badly, but it was a strategically poor moment to press that line of questioning. He couldn't be angry and accusatory right now. "We wouldn't want to impose - a medic's help would be really important. But afterwards, if you'd have directions to the nearest town, sir - or a means of contact, so we can call for a ride, we'll..."

xxxxThe man was looking somewhere behind Danny. He turned to look, as well - And it was Soren. Soren, whose golden countenance was stained with blood and set to a nervous grimness.

xxxxNo.

xxxxNo, no no.

xxxxHe wanted to ask - to beg Soren to give him something about how the situation was bad, but he'd pull through - it'll be difficult, but with medical care - something, anything - but the tradesman didn't say a word, only hugging him.

xxxxOnce again, the future he'd been building for himself had been pierced by that one great enemy. Just last week, he'd been sitting in Ennis' objectively terrible kitchen, freshly cleared from old dishes and wiped down for grease accumulation near the stove, ready to have their cleaning work ruined by making dinner. He'd been idly staring at Ennis, who smiled at him and said next time should be at Danny's. Ennis smiled often, but they sat in his rugged face in a way that made each of them feel like a precious secret. Danny smiled back, and considered telling him they should move in together, instead. That was when he realized he had fully walked out of the shadow of his last great tragedy. That he didn't want to die.

xxxxWhat a thing. To want to see tomorrow. To make plans, and hope to fulfill them. Where did his plans go, now, without Ennis to share them with?

xxxxWait. Soren was speaking. He dragged himself out of the memory and back into the dark haze of the car crash, trying to piece enough of what was said to understand - an apology. There was an air of regret sharply crystalizing into nervousness, in Soren's face. He should say something back. Something - something good. Something that will help Soren, fix the situation.

xxxxI wanted to move in with him. No, not that one. Not relevant anymore. A person can be revived for upwards of one hour, if CPR is mantained. No. Don't say that, either. Soren did his best, he always did. Anyways, Danny knew he'd have needed someone to swap him, and yet he'd walked away when he could have been there helping. I don't want to go back to grieving. It's not about you - Ennis was the one who died. I wanted that person who was run over to be the only one who died. Horrible. Why would he even think that? Say something useful. Nobody needed Danny the grieving partner. There were still logistics to handle with the man, that he was leaving hanging. Soren was still there, waiting, having stepped away.

xxxxHe gave up. He never should have been the one speaking, in the first place, would just have found a way to mangle the talk with the homeowner. Better go do something useful, instead.

xxxxRobotically, he moved; shifting Briar with it. He still kept walking, a strange three-legged limp trying to keep Briar supported. He couldn't have said something sensible even if he wanted to. Then, Briar had to come with, away from litigation danger he was too thick to argue his way out of. When he'd heard that dog, he'd made his way out from the crash site to the road in a frantic rush, hardly feeling the wounded leg. Now, though, the walk was interminable. There wasn't any sense of urgency, though. The damage was done. Danny would walk to his doom, knowing that it would still be there, looming.

xxxxEventually the unstable two made his way back to the crash, letting Briar go. He limped back to the spot Ennis had been laid down in, looking down with unseeing eyes. He wondered if he should remove the jacket, and at least imagine that secret smile one last time before losing it.

xxxxHe struggled, for a moment, with figuring out how to get Ennis up in the first place, before getting an arm under his knees and armpits and hauling him up into a princess carry. Ennis had not been a light man - shorter than Danny, yes, but solid. Now he seemed a hundred times heavier than he'd been in- in life. Still. That man had said they needed to move. So, Danny walked, almost blindly, into the dark towards the main road. Halfway up the way back he stumbled, Ennis shifting out of his arms with a lurch that made Danny nauseous with the fear of letting him fall; he shifted grips to throw him over a shoulder, instead. Wishing his throat would work again, so he could apologize.

xxxxWeighed down with a dead future on his shoulders, he walked on.

[guh-huh!]

❛xＦＥＬＩＸ　！
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xxmale // tech wiz // feeling: money me money now. // tagged: the dream team + nasty wolverine child.
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xx'xxwhen eva attempts to speak some sense into him, felix breathes deeply, tension cutting his limbs loose. his mouth twisted into a distressed pout, he looks over the group of sticks eva has brought with her and finds one with sharp enough edge, and that's long enough where he can comfortably prod from a distance. it's a bit of a strange feeling, picking out the stick with his non-dominant hand, but one that's– when aided by the adrenaline kicking overtime in his bloodstream– is easily understood. there's a cutting his thigh isn’t deep, but it’s not superficial either, and he winces when he walks over to fetch the stick, and twirls it around in his hands for extra flourish.

xx'xx"y'know, i was captain hook in my fifth grade theatre production. i think i still have the sword skills to back it up," felix trails off, purposefully smug. it’s been a long few minutes since he's made any sort of joke, and the company – as odd as the situation is – is greatly appreciated. he feels a bit more content with a weapon of sorts, a still-functioning phone now in his pocket, and now a companion to deal with whatever the night has in store for them. "whatever's out there might have collie beat, but not the world's most famous crook."

xx'xxhe’s busy mulling over shaking the wood-boring insects out of the stick when something snaps from behind him.

xx'xxit brings him to a stop, senses honed to the finest edge from trying to impress eva and not getting himself killed in the process. hazel eyes narrow as he points the stick abruptly towards the noise, almost leaving his grip as it wooshes softly in the night air. a sharp tingle of unawareness floods through him like a bucket of cold water dumped over his head, the skin on the backs of his hands prickling into goosebumps. like he’s being watched. the cold scent of pine and earth is replaced with something sharper, more metallic, though not completely unpleasant in his nose.

xx'xxah. somebody's bleeding. specifically-

xx'xx"drew?" felix's face softens and he lowers his stickly-thin weapon down in recognition. it's a bit heartbreaking to see him so torn up like this, but felix is pretty sure he looks worse for wear too. especially with one arm currently broken and tucked pathetically into his favorite jacket. drew makes a face at his limp arm, and felix can’t help but laugh softly at the way his nose scrunches up in distaste, a lopsided little smirk on his own face. a fleeting feeling hits low in his stomach, equal parts beyond terrified and hopefully idiotic.

xx'xx"i'm pretty sure the only thing that can make me feel better right now is a bunch of painkillers. do you think the boss will give me pto?" felix teases. he swears that all of the serotonin in his brain floods into his bloodstream at once when he receives somewhat of an amused huff in turn. if he can't survive due to the blood loss, at least he can be remembered as somebody who could make a good joke every so once in a while. either that, or would go out swinging. (literally, he had a stick).

xx'xxwhen drew brings up the story about the wolverine, felix suppresses the grimace on his face and actively works to bite back the retort his brain has defaulted to over the years, that automatic instinct to call drew out on his outlandish stories. but, with the way he'd caught sight of whatever animal attacked briar? surprisingly, felix is quick to believe anything in this state they've found themselves in.

xx'xxespecially when drew and eva's gaze snap to the curious little creature. she's not much taller than his cat at home, but has the bite power to potentially lose function in his other arm as well. feeling like he should've studied a bit more in biology, felix allows himself to cock his head slightly and raise an eyebrow. what the hell would a wolverine want with a wallet? it's not like they could simply stroll on down to the nearest wendy's and legally purchase a frosty with legal tender. they didn't have bills to pay.

xx'xxso what was going on?

xx'xxit’s too dark to have any hope of being on the offensive, so he forces himself to gather the courage to point the stick at the wolverine slightly, not leading with the sharper end in case he had to pin the creature down. he had no intent on hurting another living thing, as he could barely kill the spiders that showed up in his apartment. felix typically doesn’t have a problem keeping his nerves in check, but right now he can’t help but feel like he’s the one being attacked rather than the other way around. he’s not sure it’s a feeling he particularly likes.

xx'xx"hey there, uh, little guy?" there’s nothing fake about the smile that forms on felix's lips as he attempts to poke at the wallet with a stick, maintaining eye contact with the wolverine before him – still stagnant, still looking ferocious against the pitch of the night backdrop. felix waits a beat, and then another, letting the words fall crisp and cutting from his tongue. "you think you could drop that? i really don't want to hurt you; but with the situation we're in, we might need the money more than you."

xx'xxhis brain screams at him to quickly push down on the wallet, to force the animal to drop the wallet so it could scamper away unharmed, but something deep within him rejects that idea, holding him back from acting on impulse. instead he stays rooted to the spot, letting the stick slowly come closer to the jaws of the animal, not daring to look away.

xx'xx"work with me buddy," he mutters softly, trying to keep his composure. he feels, a bit, like a child trying to find the winning angle at a claw machine. he was always successful at those, so hopefully scoring a teddy bear for a date is similar to prying a wallet from a wolverine's maw. higher stakes, bigger profit. worse thing a date could do was leave him, the worst a wolverine could do was maul him to death. both wouldn't be great for his ego– especially in front of drew and eva.

xx'xxso really, wolverine. let him have this one.