𝚂 𝙾 𝚃 𝙴 𝚁 𝙸 𝙰

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝖥𝖠𝖪𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖠 𝖶𝖧𝖨𝖫𝖤, 𝖶𝖨𝖳𝖧 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖲𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖮𝖱 𝖯𝖮𝖱𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖳 𝖲𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖤

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⸸ ⋅ ────── ⋅ 𝐾𝐴𝑇𝐸 x 𝐴𝑉𝐸𝐷𝑂𝑁 ⋅

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𝘚𝘖 𝘐 𝘞𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘜𝘗 𝘐𝘕 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓, 𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘜𝘙𝘌𝘋 𝘉𝘠 𝘔𝘐𝘋𝘐 𝘉𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘚

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tagging; collie
mentioned; josie slander
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location; on the road > Soteria Bay
shift; coyote

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The moment Collie slid into the passenger seat, Kate began to have regrets about having invited him along. For some unknown reason, he had chosen to wear tactical gloves to a shopping trip. Although she had lived by the principle of no man left behind for eight years of her life, if he was planning on causing chaos in the Bay, she was planning on ditching him without hesitation just to avoid ending up on Josie's radar. God knew what else he had brought along in the pockets of his cargo pants. At the very least, he had understood not to come in wet clothes — she really did not want to ask what he might have been doing this early in the morning to end up soaked. There was something reminiscent in it to figuring out whether your dog had been drinking from the toilet.
indentindentKate backed the truck onto the driveway, then turned for the dirt road that would eventually bring them to the old, faded pavement amid the woods. Although she had never visited Fox Island until two years ago, it looked very much like the rest of British Columbia — her first home, before the army had become her home. The radio was already tuned to the only channel it got, playing some old song on a low volume as the tires growled underneath them, pinging small rocks along the sides of the truck. It reminded her of drives on the desert — something she probably remembered through the lens of nostalgia. She didn't dignify Collie's question about driving with an answer, not anything more than a slightly annoyed look out of the corner of her eye, but he kept on talking either way, like a nervous private, and yet seemingly without any of the nervousness.
indentindentAs they pulled onto the gently winding main road and the gap among the trees, through which they drove, widened to accommodate oncoming traffic, Kate shifted in her seat, holding the steering wheel still with one hand and leaning an elbow against the door, doing her best to tune out his rambling. George had sat up in the back seat again, watching the scenery passing by through the windows, fixating on the shadowy forest floor littered with browning needles from the evergreens. Meanwhile, Collie was in the passenger seat, answering his own question. No, Kate really didn't want him driving, especially if he was terrible even by army standards. Her attention briefly drifted, and as she refocused, she swore she could hear water dripping along the chassis, but the sky remained its old even grey, and the windshield was clear — with the exception of a few nicks and scratches from flying gravel.

indentindentA quaint green sign announced that they would soon be arriving to Soteria Bay, and Kate kept listening to Collie's occasional comments with half an ear. She even made a single passing remark of her own, about an old, closed-down diner maybe a mile away from the Bay. There had been a lot of those just outside of her hometown, reminders of a time in the 80s when there had been more tourist traffic heading to the hiking trails — although she kept the detail about the 80s to herself. The forest thinned out as it was replaced by scattered residential buildings, picturesque wooden houses in pastel colours. Kate thought they were hideous. The road continued as a straight shot into the downtown area, and had it not been for the expanse of deep blue water that inevitably ended it, she could almost picture it continuing toward hazy mountains in the distance, like so many of the towns in the mainland.
indentindentKate remembered how she had first arrived by ferry, and forced herself to turn back around to look at the water, how the land she had departed from was only visible as a flat, dark mass in the horizon. It had been a while since she had visited her family, or even talked to them, but they had gotten used to her being away and sometimes even unreachable for long stretches at a time. And considering how her last phone call to her family had ended with her yelling at her father over him having told one of her cousins to enlist instead of attending university — just as she had done — she wasn't in a hurry to call them again. The signs of businesses began to crowd the fronts of the low buildings that bordered the road on both sides, like the trees had less than a mile ago, and although the dog-silhouetted pet shop sign approached on the right, she would be forced to drive all the way to the end of the road, to the parking lot bordered by the water.
indentindentThe pavement there was wet, and Kate reckoned it must have rained just off the shore overnight. She wrangled the truck into a parking spot, and as she stepped out, the toe of her boot splashed down into a shallow puddle of water. There was a bitter wind blowing in from the ocean that took hold of her hair, blowing the dark brown strands over her shoulders and back again. At least it wasn't raining any longer. The crowds weren't too bad this early in the morning, either, but she had a feeling that the spring would bring more people to the island again, just as it had the first year she had been there. Collie took the opportunity to speak up again, but Kate leashed George and let her out of the car before answering. Her nails pattered down onto the asphalt.
indentindentindent"The pet store, then groceries if we have to," she said, alluding to Collie's promise about taking requests. It wasn't what she had signed up for, but whatever kept him busy and away from pestering her about sparring again. Kate threw a glance at the bed of the truck, checking that the usual folded-up tarp was still in its place in case it began to rain on the way back and they needed a way to keep everything dry. It was there, tied down, a corner fluttering back and forth in the breeze.

indentindentPineapple juice. Kate stopped to look at Collie to see if he was being serious, and it seemed he was intent on grabbing a bite after the errands. She sighed. It was like conceding to the requests of a hyperactive toddler, but she couldn't come up with an excuse to say no, and she had a feeling he would only demand to know what was stopping them if she did try and deny him. Kate really had become weak, like some sort of bleeding heart good samaritan. It was terrible.
indentindentindent"Fine," she said, for the second time that day. "We'll make a stop to find you a juice box, dogboy." With Collie's promise to follow, she turned her back on him, George's leash in hand, to make her way to the pet store. If I behave, do I get to drive on the way back? There were some lines she had to draw. "Not a chance."
indentindentThey didn't need to backtrack far along the narrow sidewalk before arriving to the right storefront. Wilson Pet Supply. She had only visited a handful of times before, but it was clearly a family business. A somewhat disinterested young man tended to be standing behind the counter, and that suited Kate perfectly. Both the thought of being recognized from the news or as a regular seemed equally off-putting. It was unavoidable that some people in both Port Davis and the Bay must have known her face already, after two years on the island, but it was fine as long as they didn't attempt to make small talk with her. Maybe it had been a good idea to bring Collie along after all — she could simply shove him at anyone who proved too talkative.
indentindentThe bell above the door made a small, tinny ring as Kate stepped inside with George and Collie in tow. It was uncomfortably quiet inside, the way it only got on deployments when something was about to go seriously wrong. Low shelves filled the rectangular space in a labyrinthine manner, encircled by the taller shelves that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. She couldn't help but note the second door toward the back of the store, and how exposed the glass windows of the front left the inside. As she had expected, the same man was acting as cashier, and he greeted their group with a preoccupied nod before dropping his gaze back to his lap. Kate fixed her sight line by shifting her weight from one foot to the other: he was holding a phone.
indentindentShe returned the nod, before slipping into one of the fluorescently lit aisles that she remembered would lead them to the bags of dog food. George was making sure to sweep every inch of the floor with her nose. Instead of loading one of the glossy red-and-white bags onto a cart, she hauled it off the shelf and handed it straight to Collie, as if this was explicitly what he had signed up for. At least those tactical gloves were being put to use.

[guh-huh!]

ＴＯＢＩＡＳ　ＡＲＥＭＵ . / / !
━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━ shift; arapawa ram x ` feeling; hungry hungry hip-rams. x ` tagged; kitchen crew + collie <33


xxxxtoby pours the flour and sugar into the bowl like the gods makes snow fall, as gently and carefully as he can. his hands struggle with the smooth, ceramic edges of the pot, shaking under the weight as attempts to stir faster than he probably should; it only adds to the effect, he thinks. there's some haphazardly tossed egg shells on the counter, but he'd promised josie that they'd be taken care of after he'd scarfed down his share. (besides, he was cooking for whoever wanted breakfast! they should offer him a little slack for being the little red hen of the group, making these waffles all on his own, while the rest of the group sulked in their lack of social skills).

xxxxhe watches as victoria sneaks into the room, hank's nose twitching he follows the smell of vanilla-infused butter like a faded road on a map, before returning back to his handler. toby's big, soft hands lay the wooden spoon across the saucepan to let hank sniff his relatively clean hand; letting the doberman get used to his scent before going up to finish mixing.

xxxx"sorry bud, i don't think vic would be too happy with me if i feed you human food," he says, turning the waffle-maker on with his thumb. "but if she gives me the go ahead- i'll be sure to sneak you the best one of the bunch, boyo." he makes eye-contact with victoria momentarily, motioning to hank with the whisk. as if asking without words, begging for the dog to have breakfast with them. he's never had pets, really, but he's pretty sure that his mom's french bulldog only eats from five-star restaurants.

xxxxthe sugar melts into the mixture of milk and egg as he dribbles the butter into the bowl, and then sloshes the batter around in pale golden waves, makes a whirlpool like in the scary podcasts he listens to at night, a tiny, sticky tempest. toby sifts the flour over the rest, all ice and snow again until it disappears under his careful turns of spoons. it could make for a good story setting, he thinks- a vanilla batter monster trapping two children into a delicious storm of dough. maybe he’ll try to see if there's some sort of podcast on a winter yeti in the british colombia.

xxxxhe's busy pouring the batter into the iron when collie walks in, but he'd recognize the sound of his best friend's footsteps anywhere. not even looking up from his post, toby waves a free hand from the bowl to wave toward's collie's whirlwind attempt at greeting everyone before he heads out onto the road. before he heads out completely, he asks for breakfast to be waiting for him when he comes back. luckily, toby's already ahead of him, already sectioning some batter off for later.

xxxx"don't be gone so long, love!" he teases, becoming very aware of the batter dripping off of his jacket cuffs as he calls towards collie's shadow heading out the door. as the mess of batter pools pathetically by his feet, he quickly flashes a look to josie and prays she takes pity on him for making quite a mess. "and maybe get some stain remover-" he tacks on, wiping at the smudge now growing on his flannel. "and a pack of rolos, i deserve it."

xxxxhe's not entirely certain if collie catches the last bit, but maybe through their best friend telepathy collie can feel the disturbance in the force that toby needed a little treat. they've always had a certain sixth sense when it came to that sort of thing, and the rest of the cabinmates were left in awe of their sheer force of bro-power.

xxxxonce the disturbance known as hurricane collie has been handled by the soft hum of the cabin's car, the silence reigns only for a second longer before the waffle makers begins chirping it's ending song. toby quickly flips the machine, and pops out four, perfectly square and golden-brown waffles. one of them is slightly burnt at the edge, but he thinks it adds character. if nobody else manages to pick it due to the beauty mark, toby will gladly accept the trophy.

xxxxthe four waffles fall out onto an open plate, and he quickly greases up the pan for a second round. lord knows that the rest of the gang will head in eventually, and he's pretty sure this batch is already reserved by not only the people in this room- but the dog as well.

xxxx"feel free to help yourselves ladies; i'll be here a while." he gestures to the iron and a still relatively-full bowl of mix. he's hoping somebody takes him up on his offer, otherwise they'll be a repeat of that one time everybody got sick, so toby had to eat the six omelettes he'd made for the gang by himself. it was delicious, sure, but left him in a state of sickness that rivaled the bug going around the cabin.

xxxx"viv, vic, jos, eve?" he points a lazy finger gun in everyone's direction before pointing at the plate. "they're made with 100% love and a little bit of vanilla. it's more filling than coffee, i think." he's heard that coffee can be good for you, in some instances. but toby's pretty sure that coffee could give him superpowers and he'd still avoid drinking it. bitterness was never an ideal flavor for such a sweet boy like himself. or at least that's how he reasoned it.

xxxx"also, can somebody quick check and see if we have orange juice? if not, somebody's gonna have to text collie n' kate; i think no breakfast is complete without the sweet power of vitamin c."

[chase.]

𝐂 𝐎 𝐋 𝐋 𝐈 𝐄 xxxx ♛
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[ golden eagle ] [ he/him ] [ location - food shop ] [ mood - concerned, protective, confused ]


xxxxxxxCollie followed Kate in near-enough silence, ducking through the doorway to the pet store. It was small and somewhat cramped for Collie’s standards, but he was already distracted by the shelves of various hardware. Harnesses, collars, other miscellaneous canine-wear. Collie absentmindedly touched the slip leads, for someone who was so enamoured by dogs, he’d never actually had one of his own. Between living in a group home and the military, it was far too impractical to have a pet. Even now he was hesitant, he enjoyed borrowing Hank for runs whenever Vic wanted a rest day, but everything else still seemed so uncertain. What type of dog would he even get? More than likely he’d pick up some mangled rescue beast, massive and weird-looking with a habit of trying to nip kids. Something that needed a bit of one on one love and a whole lot of bonding time, worn and worse for wear, but endlessly loyal.

Collie sighed, a quiet chuckle on his breath as Kate all but dropped a bag of dog food into his arms. “Fair play.” He relented, reluctantly impressed. He grunted, adjusting the bag in his gloved hands to allow it to rest over his left shoulder. Forty pounds wasn’t an issue right now, however it was already uncomfortable being unbalanced, leaving Collie standing slightly lop-sided to compensate for the extra weight. Not wanting to give Kate a chance to add another bag, he moved towards the cashier, gently pulling a few notes out of his wallet. “This is my late Christmas present to George, because she’s my favourite girl on the island.” He murmured, assuming Kate was going to try to protest the act of “charity”. He offered the woman a smile, only to be interrupted by the obnoxious chime of his phone. Collie winced, looking at the notification. “Looks like we’re heading to the food shop, I can’t let everyone starve.” He sheepishly admitted. Despite being lumped with a bag of dog food, Collie felt a slight twinge of guilt for hijacking Kate’s would-be peaceful solo expedition and forcing her out of her way. “I’ll be quick, promise, the nearest one will do.” A few coins slid across the table; change for the dog food. The shifter fumbled with them, trying to pick up the change whilst balancing the dog food on his shoulder. Exhaling through his nose, he picked them up one-by-one, dropping them into a little charity pot that sat to the side of the counter. So much for being done with charity.

The bell chimed as Collie opened the door, nodding his head in farewell to the cashier. Once out into the street, he straightened, adjusting the bag on his shoulder. “I’ve gotta ask,” he began, unprompted. “Did you really drive to the bay just to pick up some food for George?” He questioned, eyes flicking from building to building in search of a place to do a small food run. “It just seems like a hassle to drive out here, find someplace to park, just for one bag of food, how often do you have to top up her food anyways?” Collie rambled, adjusting his grip on the aforementioned bag.

-

A shopfront soon came into view, a glass display promising its value as a food merchant. “This’ll do, I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.” Bizzare shopping list in hand, or rather on his phone screen, Collie set off into the store. He brushed past the neat stacks of shopping baskets; picking one up and letting it swing limply as he strolled down the aisles. “If you see anything you fancy, just stick it in.” He offered, gesturing to the basket in his hand. The bag of food felt like it was starting to burn a crater into his shoulder, but he stubbornly refused to swap it onto the other one, only reaching up to adjust its position slightly with his left hand. People milled about, faces Collie had never seen before nor cared to remember. It was busier inside than it had been on the street, perhaps people seeking refuge from the slight bite of the cold outside, or more likely it was the only respectable food shop in walking distance. The hum of life was more settling than the eerie silence of Wilson Pet supply, and he disregarded any odd glances, too focused on filling the rusted basket with miscellaneous items. “If we split up, we can bounce faster - could you grab some of the sweeter snacks?” He asked, although it was more of a light-hearted demand as he turned on his heel, leaving without waiting for an answer. “Oh, Toby boy is partial to rolos so those would be fantastic!” Collie added, walking away in search of the refrigerated section.

A growing sense of trepidation gnawed at his gut as he walked away, out of sight from Kate. A few odd looks were thrown his way; but that was the norm for him. Tactical gloves and cargo trousers normally branded him as an outsider - although most locals were too intimidated to even make a quip about it. Something was different this time though, and Collie couldn’t help but throw a glance over his shoulder. Nothing. No grim reaper or boogie man waiting to jump him, no rival squad scurrying between the aisles, armed to the teeth. Quit behaving like a paranoid teenager. He scolded himself.

Collie had meandered down another aisle, still trying to soothe the creeping apprehension, when he heard hushed murmurs. Unease crawled faster up his spine, gaining perch with a new sense of justification and his hackles rose. He set down a carton of juice, instinctually opting to determine the root of the unrest. “Kate?” He called, albeit somewhat quietly, so as to not draw more attention. The overhead lights flickered as Collie briskly walked back towards the area he’d left Kate; a controlled sense of urgency starting to kick in when he realised it also seemed to be the source of the whispers. Maybe people were overexcited by the presence of a service dog? Or maybe-

Oof!

A woman collided with Collie’s back, causing him to flinch; many years of conditioning allowed him to keep his footing with ease, posture always steady. Collie turned around, dropping the bag of food to the floor and steadying the blonde with his hands. “Steady there love, watch for where you’re heading-” The lady cut him off with a haphazard apology, sincerity vacant from tone and gazed fixated elsewhere. Collie followed her line of sight, tuning out some other voices. Kate looked like she’d become severely anaemic in the space of a few moments, and George was being incredibly attentive, warm eyes focused on her person in concern. He squinted, looking over Kate’s head as another man peered down the aisle, muttering something that Collie couldn’t make out. There wasn’t any obvious disruption; no elderly folks splayed on the floor, no handsy child trying to knit its grubby fingers in George’s fur, no one arguing over the last tin of pears. The hell’s going on? The woman who’d unceremoniously crashed into him took hesitant steps towards Kate. Yeah, no. Collie took a large stride, putting himself in-between the too-curious stranger and standing a breath away from Kate. People seemed to be drawn in, and Collie was hesitant to make eye-contact with anyone. Confused, paranoia climbing up his throat, he looked down to Kate - eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Kate, what’s going on?” He asked, his body partly shielding hers from one end of the aisle. “Has someone done something?” Collie didn’t come here with the intent to sock someone in the jaw, but he sure as hell would if given a reason.

[ inventory : multi-tool, phone, burner phone, knife, wallet, lighter, gum, the kitchen sink a 40lb bag of dog food ]

[ tags ; kate ] [ mentions ; vic,toby ]

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖶𝖤 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖫𝖣 𝖫𝖠𝖴𝖦𝖧 𝖥𝖮𝖱𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤, 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭 𝖶𝖤 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖫𝖣

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⯭ ⋅ ─── ⋅ 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑺𝑼𝑺 x 𝑯𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑳 ⋅

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𝖳𝖤𝖠𝖱 𝖨𝖳 𝖴𝖯 𝖫𝖨𝖪𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖣𝖮𝖦𝖲 𝖠𝖳 𝖭𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳, 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭 𝖶𝖤 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖫𝖣

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tagging; kenna
mentioned; waffle man
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location; cabin
shift; grizzly bear

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Something about the depth of the sigh that made its way out of Kenna had Carsus turning toward her, a sincere concern lighting up in the blue of his eyes and the way his brows drew together. If he had known she would take the news this way— oh. It seemed she had seen the incident with the bucket as he had feared, and was teasing him. Carsus turned a shade not far from scarlet and lowered his eyes to the weathered beam separating the porch from the rest of the yard. An embarrassed smile picked at the corners of his mouth and he cleared his throat again, as if he could simply grunt the prickling feeling out of his body. Her mischievous gaze was burning the side of his face.
indentindentindent"Ah, well, I..." he fumbled for something clever to say, having never been the greatest at a witty reply. Back in Wales, he had spent an awful many family dinners placidly chewing his food, content on listening with half an ear as his brothers had traded insults like they were intent on giving their poor mother a heart attack. "I might have stepped onto the wrong bucket's territory." It was a little clumsy, but he was awfully proud of having come up with something, rather than stumbling over his own tongue for a drawn-out length of time.

indentindentThankfully, in all her grace, Kenna released Carsus from the embarrassment of his encounter with the bucket, and he turned back to the morning unraveling in front of them. The flush receded from his cheeks and he raised his eyes with a grateful chuckle from his throat. He truly did enjoy the mornings of these transitional seasons, when the air was crisp and perhaps a little grey, always fogging up over the fields, where the scarcity of food brought the deer further out into the open for him to contemplate the fragile movements of their feet and faces through the brush. Carsus drew his hand over his beard in thought, the images floating him further from the jovial tone of before.
indentindentindent"I spent the night camped out on the shore," he admitted. "There is a sheltered cove not far from here." Perhaps it wasn't always easy to understand, but the air blowing in from the sea, toying with the slack in the tent's canvas, and the faint crackle of the fire on the pebbled beach had eventually lulled him to sleep better than the midnight quiet of the house could. His eyes took on a slightly distant quality as he thought of the previous night, that sense of self-consciousness fading to the background. "Ever since I became aware of, well, the bear, I've found it easier to sleep outside. I think he likes to hear the wind in the leaves outside the tent, and the lapping of the waves against the shore. Maybe he finds it soothing," he mused, based on the calmness his human self had found amid nature since arriving to the island. "I don't mind waking to the birds at dawn, either." Another chuckle, though his face grew serious again soon after.

indentindentIn spite of his efforts, his mind turned to his brother again. That same flash of his broken face, rent so unfamiliar by the terrifying claws Carsus had first come to know when they had left his own human hands bloody. He flinched at the fragment of memory, then pushed it to the back of his mind as best he could. It had not been a pleasant meeting with a side of himself that had remained hidden for so long but with which he could never again part, as far as he knew. All too often it felt like the beast was haunting him, and he didn't know what to do. He didn't understand how to be helpless.
indentindentThe expression on Carsus' face gained a touch of cold steel as he attempted to bury the pain before it spilled so far out that he could not contain it. He didn't want to frighten Kenna away, but as he shook himself out of his trance and glanced at the woman who was still listening to him in spite of his stumbling and strangeness, he felt the need to explain himself. If he only knew how. He circled toward the topic, his eyes fixed onto the now-empty yard.
indentindentindent"I've seen many of the folks here be so at peace with both sides of themselves that I could barely tell them apart as sides in the first place. Even those who haven't had it so easy living a human life. I don't..." he searched for a way to phrase it, but the feelings were complicated. He didn't always have all the right words, but especially not for this. "I still think of the bear as a stranger, and I suppose we don't always get along so well. It never stopped being terribly strange to me, as if I'm trying to negotiate for room in my own body. Playing along with those instincts seems to make the demands less... demanding."

indentindentAs if waking up to how severe he had allowed the conversation to become, he glanced at Kenna again, almost to make sure that she hadn't already started running, then attempted to lighten the mood with a breath of laughter that only came across as partially forced. A scent of vanilla and fried batter was wafting over to them on their place at the porch, and he had to take a deeper breath to make sure that his mind hadn't begun to hallucinate to spare him from the weight of his own awkwardness. But no, it was real — someone was making waffles inside. It was like the universe was trying to save him from himself instead.
indentindentindent"Ah, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to bring the mood down." He rubbed at the short hairs on the nape of his neck, then took a step away from the banister, until he was facing Kenna, his side pointed toward the door. Instinct was telling him to make himself scarce without another word that could dig the hole deeper, but instead he fought the desire, and extended a hopeful half-invitation. Vague enough that she could decline in case he had made things weird enough as it was. "I think someone's making waffles. I could use some breakfast myself."
indentindentCarsus opened the door, but stayed to hold it for Kenna in case she accepted his clumsy offer.

[Consulting_Angel]

Vivette Stoker
27 | Female | Spotted Hyena
Location: Kitchen
Tagged: Kitchen Crew

It was not long before the kitchen started to fill up with the other residents, in varying degrees of social ready-ness. Vivette gave them all a bright smile in greeting regardless. She'd turned towards Josie when she'd replied to her question. Honestly, she hadn't really been expecting any other answer, but had been quite curious to see if the informal leader of the group might have had anything particularly interesting or new lined up for the day. She thought for a few moments, considering what she might do for the day herself. She could spend most of the day up in her room, making clothes, but that wasn't really her style. Or maybe find some inspiration for a dress - oh that was an idea. "I was thinking of taking a walk later on - see if I can find any inspiration." Vivette replied. And maybe take a few photos, she thought. Even though she'd been on Fox Island a few years now, there always seemed to be something new to explore and find.

With Tobias' entrance into the kitchen, Vivette beamed warmly towards him, noting the flower crown he was wearing - no doubt something he had fashioned just before coming inside. If it wasn't for the backdrop of the kitchen, which wasn't quite aesthetically suitable, she would have snapped a photo of him right there and then. She made a mental note to remind herself to ask him to make her one later. Vivette perked up when Toby mentioned making waffles. Perfect - she wouldn't have to make something herself, and she loved waffles. Especially with raspberries and a touch too much whipped cream. She didn't mind cooking for herself, but it was much easier to let someone else do it for her. "Morning Toby! And yes please!" she responded to him.

And then Kate and Collie passed by the kitchen door. Even though Kate's appearance had been very brief, and she had no intentions of taking any photos at that point in time, Vivette almost instinctively put her phone down on the table, picking it up again at the sound of the engine of the truck outside rumbling to life. She waved at Collie as he made his brief appearance as well, explaining where he and Kate were going and requesting for Toby to save a waffle for him. No surprises there. She might send him a text later, though, for some more black thread, but she'd have to double check what she had left first.

Evelyn had also entered the kitchen, silently, during this, and had sat away from her. While Vivette liked to think that she got along with almost everyone, she knew that her peppy, energetic attitude could maybe be a little too much for some - especially at this time in the morning - so she didn't think anything of Evelyn's chosen seat. "Morning Evelyn!" Vivette greeted her anyway, but left the conversation at that, and noting that Vic had entered with her Doberman, Hank, she greeted her as well.

Before long, the first batch of waffles were done. Vivette stood up, pulling an empty plate and a fork in front of her, and then the waffle on top of the pile, as if to have them saved for herself. "Thanks Toby!" she said, excitedly, and then went to the fridge, taking out a small punnet of raspberries, two cans of whipped cream and the requested carton of orange juice, taking a moment to adjust how she was holding them all, and then going back to the table - closing the fridge door with her foot - and depositing the things onto the table. Giving the carton a slight shake, and then taking off the lid to have a look, noting that there was just under half the carton left, "Looks like we'll need some more." she assessed, and sat back down at her seat with one of the cans of whipped cream and the raspberries to start loading her waffle up.

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝖥𝖠𝖪𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖠 𝖶𝖧𝖨𝖫𝖤, 𝖶𝖨𝖳𝖧 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖲𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖮𝖱 𝖯𝖮𝖱𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖳 𝖲𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖤

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

⸸ ⋅ ────── ⋅ 𝐾𝐴𝑇𝐸 x 𝐴𝑉𝐸𝐷𝑂𝑁 ⋅

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

𝘚𝘖 𝘐 𝘞𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘜𝘗 𝘐𝘕 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓, 𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘜𝘙𝘌𝘋 𝘉𝘠 𝘔𝘐𝘋𝘐 𝘉𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘚

████
████
████

┌─────────────────────────────┐

│
│
│
│
│

tagging; collie
mentioned; Tobias, (kitchen crew)
───────────────────────────
location; Soteria Bay
shift; coyote

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└─────────────────────────────┘

When Kate had handed Collie the bag, she hadn't meant for him to pay, because such a request would have gone against her ethos of stubborn and long-suffering self-sufficiency, but as he walked to the register, she found it less awkward to not say anything. Her mouth silently opened before she clamped it shut, and as he called George his favourite girl, she rolled her eyes, then turned them to the dog gently sniffing at the nearby shelf full of miscellaneous items. Don't worry, I know you're a cold-blooded killer and could down a bear in a heartbeat. If you wanted to. Obviously.
indentindentShe might have childishly stuck out her tongue at his smile in a fit of impulsivity, but their eyes seemed to flick simultaneously down to his phone as it gave a demanding chime. Kate was infamous for never answering her phone because she kept it on silent and would only look at the thing in loathing once every few days. The 24-hour news cycle had been difficult to bear after deployments in places that had only had a satellite phone to keep in touch — if you were lucky. Everyone back at the cabin was fortunate that Collie had brought his mobile along. It was highly likely that Kate would have left them hanging without feeling all that bad about it.
indentindentKate shrugged her shoulders. She might have put up a show of protest, but now that he had paid for George's food, she felt like she owed him one, a freebie to drag her around the shops of the Bay hunting down some undoubtedly specific thing for Tobias, or whoever it was that had messaged him. It wasn't really her style to stay indebted as long as she had a say in the matter. And if that was part of the reason she found it so difficult to hang around Josie, she wasn't particularly interested in examining it in the aisles of Wilson pet supply. Collie's change clanked into a charity collection box, and Kate briefly raised her eyebrows, before taming the expression on her face. It seemed he was in an altogether generous mood.

indentindentThey headed back out the door, this time with Kate following after Collie, and him still balancing the bag of dog food on a shoulder. The sight was a little amusing, reminiscent of how the newbies in basic tended to look like kindergartners with their massive backpacks, but she would have had to hurl herself onto the road were he to catch her smiling, and so she turned away, following suit in reading the signs on the storefronts in search of a grocery. He really did have a penchant for talking. Kate would have considered herself more of a quiet type, but it seemed he was set on getting more than half a sentence out of her.
indentindentindent"The brand at the market in Port Davis messed with her stomach." Another shrug of her shoulders, as if it were obvious. "Wilson's is the only actual pet store out here." It didn't seem like that much a hassle to her, at least if it weren't for the fact that she absolutely hated coming to the Bay, albeit for reasons that must have been baffling to the average person. She had seen soldiers saving the best bits of their already meagre meals to feed them to the stray dogs lingering at the gates of a base. Some had even adopted a few of those dogs, and gone through a whole lot of trouble — and paperwork — just to get them back to Canada safely. It seemed small in comparison to make the drive so George could be healthy. Strangely enough, Kate had a feeling that Collie might understand. She didn't mention the fact that it had been somewhat of an excuse, and George wouldn't have ran out of food for a few days even if she had left the trip for later.

indentindentThe store that Collie chose as fitting wasn't familiar to Kate, either. She tended to get her necessities from Port Davis, even when she made the drive to the Bay. Her usual preference was to get out as quickly as she had arrived. Frankly, the crowd of people inside, as sedate as it was in comparison to any store off the island, set a pit in her stomach. As Collie set down the aisle, basket in hand, she could feel the almost bristling sensation washing across her shoulders, prickling at her skin with the threat of anxiety. Her gaze swept along the shelves in an idle attempt to distract herself, avoiding the faces of the strangers as they passed. George's leash was clenched inside her fist.
indentindentShe nearly missed it when Collie went to split off, but lifted her eyes in time to acknowledge what he had said. Sweet snacks. What the hell is a rolo? The signs hanging above the aisles took her deeper into the store, past walls of cereal and laundry detergent, all the way to the back wall lined with colourful packages full of every kind of sweet thing imaginable. Kate really could have used some of those chocolate bars when her meal kit had come with peanut butter for the seventh day in a row, but as she stood in front of the selection, the ability to make a choice seemed to slip from her like something intangible. In hindsight, the army had made it so easy by pruning the range down to one. Two, if your commissary happened to be particularly well stocked.
indentindentLocked into place by indecision, Kate could feel her skin growing hot under her jacket, even as her hands felt ice cold. An eerie sensation crept across the nape of her neck and she looked to the side, searching for the source of her uneasiness, and as her eyes reached the very end of the aisle, two faces turned away from her. They had been staring. Gossiping. Speakers overhead were playing a worn-out pop song on a low volume, the cctv above the register was giving out a distant buzz, and all of a sudden, Kate felt sick. Trapped. The blood was fast draining from her face, leaving her unsteady on her feet, even as she continued standing, frozen in place. George whined at her feet, her body wedged sideways between Kate and the strangers who seemed to know her, as if to hide her away from eyes that wished her nothing good.
indentindentAnother body appeared at the end of the aisle, and it barely registered as Collie. Kate wanted to run away. She wanted to hurt somebody, to hit the closest face encroaching on her space. She needed to flee. That pitch black death fear that got soldiers killed under fire was clawing its way up her throat, and still, she couldn't get herself to move. A muffled thump sounded from the head of the shelves, and her eyes focused for a moment, just in time not to crumple away as Collie's body filled the narrowing field of her vision. His words were distant, and she didn't want to answer — didn't know if she could. The legs keeping her standing felt both stiff and weak, like they might give in. He was the only familiar thing in this store, but it wasn't enough. Not to keep the panic from crawling underneath her skin.
indentindentindent"I- I need to leave," she forced the words out of a clenched throat in a whisper, a strained croak.

indentindentWithout another word, she fled from the aisle, clenching her fists to keep them from swinging, pushing past people whose every touch felt repulsive on her skin. It was drizzling outside, small, warm drops of spring rain, but Kate barely noticed it, because the tide of panic rising in her chest was overwhelming. She couldn't breathe. Hot tears were burning in her throat as she fought them down. The street was quiet, a few people passing by on the sidewalk, but she felt every gaze like it was ten, oppressive and fixed to her fleeing form. She got to the empty parking lot and tried to get the keys from her pocket so she could shut out the world that had its teeth around her neck, but her hands were shaking too much. She couldn't open the lock. The thoughts were coming rapidly, accusing her of every failure and misery that her mind could conjure.
indentindentHer breaths were becoming shallow and broken, like her chest was seizing out of rhythm with her breathing, squeezing the air out of her lungs as she was trying to get it in. I can't breathe. She feared her legs would give out, and so she relented, pressing her back to the side of the truck and sliding down to the wet pavement, the keys tumbling to the ground beside her. Logically, she knew that she was hyperventilating, but she couldn't stop it. There was an animal mind inside of her that believed she was drowning, but each time she thought she was catching her breath, her body seized and fought against it. George was trying to press close to her, as she'd been taught, nosing at her shoulder and arm, but Kate pulled her knees to her chest and pushed her away. She couldn't hold the tears down anymore, and they released as silent, painful sobs that had her burying her face in her knees. It was bad enough as it was — she didn't need anybody to see.

[chase.]

𝐒 𝐄 𝐁 𝐀 𝐒 𝐓 𝐈 𝐀 𝐍 xxxx ♛
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[ dingo ] [ he/him ] [ location - outside cabin ] [ feeling - absolutely fantastic ]


xxxxxxxSeb had always been a morning person, waking up with the sun just seemed right. With winter having thawed, and spring taking its place - the sun was finally starting to rise early enough. Dappled light filtered through the fir trees as he ran; jogging at a leisurely pace. It wasn’t exactly warm by any means, but it only served as encouragement for Seb to keep moving. Specks of dirt stained his trainers and the cuffs of his joggers as he ran, perhaps a bit too heavy-footed, along the dirt track. Morning runs had been a habit long before his arrival on Fox Island; and he wasn’t even sure where it came from, neither his aunt nor his uncle were particularly fond of running. Perhaps the responsibility lay with the dingo, maybe his father enjoyed running? He knew so much about his father, yet also sometimes it felt like he knew nothing. I’ll ask them about it in my next letter, he decided easily. His mother was less of a mystery; seen as his aunt had been her best friend . He’d heard enough stories about his mother to be able to easily paint a picture of what she looked like, who she was. A kind woman, one that would give the clothes off her back to anyone in need, but also a woman who stubbornly dug her heels into the dirt; unrelenting if she thought she had the best course of action. Seb breathed a soft, quiet, laugh as he ran, stories of his mother’s antics filling his head. He felt like he knew who she was, it was like a fuzzy memory but a memory no less. Details of her person were missing, the finishing touches of a painting neglected, but it was still a rendered and recognisable picture - it had colours, distinguishable shapes, and bold, purpose-filled strokes of a brush.

His father was a different picture. His painting was more of an idea, a vague concept with abstract structures all done in black and white. There was one clear aspect about his father that he knew though, and that was the shadow of an animal. A dingo. Out of all the animals in the world, he shared his life with a dingo. A medium-large rust coloured canine often mistaken for a feral domesticated dog. Seb loved it. Things seemed to just ‘click’ after his first shift; despite the unfortunate circumstances that surrounded it. It had been near effortless, learning to live with his other side. Immense support from his parental figures helped massively, but Seb’s general demeanour also had a hand in making the transmission smooth. The dingo had wholeheartedly been welcomed into his life, by both himself and his family. Sometimes the lines seemed blurred; if Seb was the dingo, or if the dingo and him were two sides of the same coin. It was a question Seb didn’t have the answer to, nor did he think he’d ever get the answer. Everyone appeared to cope with their animals differently; some seemed at odds with their shifts, constantly engaged in a mental battle, trying to bury it deep within - others seemed to be still finding their place, learning to walk a slack-line but with a safety net below, never truly in much danger - and then others, like him, were, almost entirely, if not completely, at ease. He could think of examples for all three categories, hell, he’d been watching one of them this morning.

An early start had provided him with some morning entertainment on the coast. Watching Collie try to learn to fish was an accident at first, he only meant to stay for a couple of minutes out of curiosity, and then one incident of the bird crashing into the ocean had caused him to stick around. He wouldn’t let himself drown - Seb knew that - but he still couldn’t help but keep watch, just in case. Truth be told, if Collie got himself into a situation where him drowning was likely - Seb would be just as dead trying to save him. It wasn’t exactly logical, Seb’s desire to keep people safe, especially from situations where they would fare much better than the dingo ever would, but it was still something he did without fail. Watching out for people was just, well, his thing? Maybe it was where the instincts of the wild dog had bled into his human ones, dingoes were pack animals; like most canines, and perhaps he had that to blame for his drive to watch over others.

The dirt track began to widen as he noticed he was closing the distance back to the cabin; his current home. He’d have laughed in someone’s face a few years ago if they told him he’d have left the states, living somewhere that wasn’t a ranch, and now the idea of not being here seemed so foreign. Seb missed the ranch, of course he did, but his aunt and uncle would run it just fine. There were ranchers all over the place back home, people who knew how to drive cattle and gentle horses much better than him - shifters however seemed to have a much more limited pool of volunteers. Seb knew from the start that he’d be better used over here, too many people with tragic circumstances who’d been dealt a foul hand of cards by life, and not enough shoulders to cry on or warm arms to hold you for as long as you needed. Seb liked to be that pillar for people; a support beam for anyone who wanted one - for any reason, at any time. Three in the morning, hyperventilating after a nightmare? He’d sit on your floor and talk you down from it. Six in the evening, overwhelmed and upset from unfavourable ordeals earlier in the morning? He’d get out a notepad and to help decipher the best way possible to address the situation. Not everyone wanted his help - and that was fine. As long as he knew that people would always be able to seek him out for anything, that’s what mattered.

By the time the cabin had come into view, Seb was walking. His breathing was laboured and chest heaved from exertion, but his back was still straight and his head was held high. Despite his positive outlook on the day so far, he sighed. Something was a bit off..the dingo didn’t seem wholly satisfied, and it left Seb feeling slightly confused. The animalistic instincts didn’t seem like they wanted to settle down just yet. Why though? Seb didn’t know. What’s wrong? He wanted to ask, but that wasn’t how it worked - he couldn’t give himself an answer he didn’t know. Perhaps it was time he took the canine out, give himself a few hours to run it to exhaustion or spend a while in one of the more urban areas of the island; padding along the concrete under the guise that he was just a weird mixed-breed dog.

Seb looked past the cabin, over to the empty patch of grass. Huh. Someone’s taken the truck out. It’d been there when he’d gotten up earlier that morning, so whoever had left couldn’t have been gone for too long. That was probably it, the animal was just upset that someone was ‘missing’. The blonde sighed again, some things the dingo will just have to get used to, tough luck. For now though, he was content with staying outside - choosing to sit on the steps. He could entertain the animal later.

[ inventory : n/a ]

[ tags ; none ] [ mentions ; none/collie ]

[chase.]

𝐂 𝐎 𝐋 𝐋 𝐈 𝐄 xxxx ♛
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[ golden eagle ] [ he/him ] [ location - bay -> middle of nowhere ] [ feeling - confused, concerned, humoured ]


xxxxxxxIt wasn’t often that Collie found himself dumbfounded, but watching Kate bolt from the aisle had left him standing awkwardly for a few seconds. What the hell is going on? Collie turned to the nearest bystander, the urge to scruff them by the collar and shake them for answers was overwhelming. Collie’s eyes narrowed, fists flexing under his gloves, - the small black dome that hung on the ceiling caught the corner of his gaze. He’d made a note of the security cameras when he’d first entered, but in the heat of the moment he’d almost forgotten about them. Damn it Collie. He scolded himself, growling internally at his lack of discipline. With a harsh exhale through his nose he settled on simply glaring at the stranger; prying information out of anyone in such a public place with both a crowd and a security camera was only going to bring more trouble than it was worth. It wasn’t often that Collie was left in the dark, but when he was, he didn’t cope with the concept very well. Starting a fight in the middle of the aisle without knowing who actually deserved to be socked in the jaw was unfortunately not a predicament he could afford. He clenched his jaw, hauling the bag of dog food over his shoulder once more. you can always come back and find one of them again if you need to, he reasoned, jogging in the direction Kate left in; basket of food abandoned on the ground. He was sure no one would miss the packet of rolos he stuck in his pocket though. Steal from the rich and give to the poor ‘n all that jazz, right?

By the time he’d shoved his way outside, Kate had disappeared. “Great.” He drawled, head flicking left and right to check the street. There were only a few people walking along the pavement; but a few eyes lingered on a particular area - the direction of the place they’d parked the truck. Damn she moves fast. Collie picked up the pace, jogging along the wet path towards the car park. Forty pounds of deadweight smacked uncomfortably against his shoulder with each stride, occasionally threatening to throw him off-balance. His back would be shot tomorrow, that was for sure. It was probably deserved, after all, he’d been the one to insist on the outing, and then he’d dragged Kate to another store all before leaving her. He’d been gone a matter of minutes at most, but that’d been enough time for things to hit the fan. “Stellar work Collie, she’s gonna really love you after this.” He mumbled to himself, warm droplets of rain running down his face. “Yeah sorry Seb, you know how you don’t like me drawing attention? Well, guess what! Not only did we do that, I think I’ve also scarred Kate for life. Sorry ‘bout that mate, please don’t tell Josie.” He continued, voice pitched and whiny as he mocked himself. It was hard to believe he was once a respected and highly specialised soldier; how he’d ever been promoted to lieutenant was beyond god’s knowledge.

Collie was still muttering nonsense to himself when he turned the corner to the car park, just in time to see Kate curl up on the floor. Oh. Christ. His steps quietened as he drew nearer, not wanting the heavy footfalls to scare the ex-soldier further into her head. Kate’s anxiety attacks weren’t a foreign idea to Collie, he’d heard muffled sobs from her room, or seen her red-rimmed eyes in the aftermath, but she never seemed to let anyone be there in the moment. It’d been years since he’d dealt with someone else’s anxiety attacks, he was rustier than the paintwork on the ford Kate was propped up against. To hell with it. The brunet knelt down in front of her, letting the bag slide off his shoulder. “Hey Kate? It’s just me, Collie.” He murmured softly. His knees dug uncomfortably into the wet tarmac as he let his weight rest on them, but he paid it no attention. George seemed to fret to the side, still trying to comfort Kate. Collie took one of his gloves off, pinching the index finger between his teeth. “It’s okay girl, she’s gonna be okay.” He reassured, placing his warm hand on top of Kate’s arm. If he got punched in the face, it’d be worth it. “You’re alright Kate, I promise I’m not gonna let anything happen.” He recognised the sound of the sobs, they were the type to choke a person - the type to make it seem like someone could in fact drown on air. He emphasised his breathing, loudly inhaling and exhaling. “Try to breathe, I know it’s hard, deep breaths, you’ve got this.” He’d kill to have someone else here, Seb, Toby, Viv, anyone would probably be better suited to this than him. “Everything’s okay, I’m here, George is here, it’s just us.”

A shiny object on the floor caught his attention; the keys to the truck. The shifter looked over his shoulder, watching out for any unwanted attention. The soldier in him screamed that they weren’t well covered, that their current position was too open, too accessible for anyone with ill intentions. “Let’s get you in the truck, alright? We’ll go somewhere without people.” He offered, gently picking up the keys in his still-gloved hand. He shuffled his position, getting his feet back under himself so he could stand up. “I’m gonna help you up, alright? We gotta get moving.” he warned before wrapping a hand around her bicep, hooking his arm under hers so he could pull her up with him - letting her lean on him as needed. Manhandling her like he would with any of his soldiers wasn’t an option, lest he wanted a broken nose, so he steadily walked her around to the passenger side, only letting go once he was confident she was okay with getting herself situated.

George had loyally followed Kate around to the side, “C’mon George, up you get.” He coaxed, patting the blanket Kate had laid on the backseat. After a second of hesitation at being given instructions from someone other than Kate, George climbed in - settling as close to Kate as the seats would allow. With a heavy ‘thump’, the dog food was then hauled into the truck bed, and Collie took the driver's seat. He glanced over towards Kate, concerned but unwilling to humiliate her further by mentioning it. The keys clicked, the engine coughing and spluttering as it turned on. After everything the truck had been put through, it still seemed to be going strong; at the rate the damned thing would outlive him. The radio feedback whined for a few short seconds as it tried to find its footing. Collie sighed softly, finally taking his other glove off so he didn’t look too odd as he spun the steering wheel between his hands. The radio settled, a song before his time playing as he drove out of the car park. Despite its age, the song was familiar to him, vaguely - most likely something he’d been subjected to by his ancient drill-sergeants back in basic. He tapped his fingers on his thigh to the beat, content with steering one-handedly.

His mind drifted as he drove, occasionally either glancing in the mirror to see if George was travelling alright or to make sure Kate wasn’t going to hurl herself out of the truck just to escape his presence. The childish part in him begged to floor it, pedal to the metal and play chicken with the trees in the forests - but the smarter, more rational side, very firmly kept to the speed limit. Whatever had transpired earlier had rattled her more than enough, they could take the truck for a joyride another day.

The truck slowed prematurely, Collie taking a turn - getting off the road that would’ve eventually led to the cabin. Rather quickly it became apparent that this track wasn’t used that often, cracked and broken tarmac very soon faded into dirt, potholes littered the place like the hard-mode on a cheap racing game, but Collie meandered around them with a practised ease. “I figured it’d be nice to hang out here for a bit before heading back.” He explained pathetically, breaking the silence. There was the pretty blatant reason Collie was taking a detour; but he didn’t voice it. Taking her straight back to the cabin after an anxiety attack hardly seemed like the most effective course of action, and he’d wager that Kate would prefer to have some time to collect herself before being pushed back into another group of people, no matter how familiar she was with them.

After another turn and dodging a few more craters in the ground, Collie stopped the truck. The road had ended, leaving them on the edge of a small clearing - the air was almost silent save for the chirping of birds and the distant woosh of the coast, too far away for Collie to see. He turned the key just one click; letting the engine stop but allowing the radio to continue playing. “Here’s to hoping the battery in this thing is half decent.” He joked, willing to risk the possibility of killing the truck and needing to fly back to the cabin for jumper cables just for the sake of background music. Priorities.

Once he had clambered out of the truck, making sure to open the back door in case George wished to stretch her legs, he swung himself up and onto the bonnet of the ford; sitting cross legged. It was a touch precarious, he sat dangerously close to the edge of the hood, but he didn’t want to take up all the space. “You gonna join me up here? I won’t tell Josie.” He called, crossing his fingers to show Kate, “Scout’s honour.” He looked away, attention stolen by some birds fighting high above in the trees, knocking little specks of debris down as they flapped. Collie fished back into his pockets for a moment, retrieving one of the rolo tubes he’d nicked for his bestfriend. He unwrapped it carefully, sticking one into his mouth before holding the tube out in offering to Kate. Tobes won’t mind, a rolo a day makes the pain go away… well something along those lines anyways. “Want to talk about it?” He didn’t need to add the context, they both knew damn well what his offer was regarding, it was just whether Kate wanted to acknowledge it or not. “I won’t tell anyone.” He reassured after a moment, adjusting his seat so he could better look at the birds. “It comes with the job description doesn’t it? The cleanest break from the army is always dying in it. Doesn’t tend to fare fantastically for anyone else.” Collie couldn’t help but huff an ironic laugh at the statement. “Dying” also wasn’t the cleanest break apparently in his case.

[ inventory : multi-tool, phone, burner phone, knife, wallet, lighter, gum, stolen rolos ]

[ tags ; kate ] [ mentions ; josie, toby ]

[འབྲོག་ཁྱི]

𝖥𝖠𝖪𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖫𝖮𝖵𝖤 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖠 𝖶𝖧𝖨𝖫𝖤, 𝖶𝖨𝖳𝖧 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖲𝖤𝖭𝖨𝖮𝖱 𝖯𝖮𝖱𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖳 𝖲𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖤

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

⸸ ⋅ ────── ⋅ 𝐾𝐴𝑇𝐸 x 𝐴𝑉𝐸𝐷𝑂𝑁 ⋅

──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

𝘚𝘖 𝘐 𝘞𝘈𝘒𝘌 𝘜𝘗 𝘐𝘕 𝘏𝘌𝘓𝘓, 𝘛𝘖𝘙𝘛𝘜𝘙𝘌𝘋 𝘉𝘠 𝘔𝘐𝘋𝘐 𝘉𝘌𝘓𝘓𝘚

████
████
████

┌─────────────────────────────┐

│
│
│
│
│

tagging; collie
mentioned; none
───────────────────────────
location; Soteria Bay > woods
shift; coyote

│
│
│
│
│
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The thoughts and the fear, they filled Kate's head like an awful typhoon. There was nothing to latch onto, the images came and went, bringing with them sensations that pressed down hard on old wounds like fingers on a bruise. Words came to her as if from a distance, difficult to discern from beneath the churn of horror crowding in her head. Under any other circumstances, she might have shrugged off the hand that came to land atop her arm, possibly followed by a nasty look at the offender, but caught in the throes of panic, it proved grounding. Something to focus on. The tremors wracking through her body began to subside, easing her just a little closer to the present, even as the irregular breathing still twisted in her chest.
indentindentThe world began to come back, leaking in through the cracks of the attack: the rain plastering the jacket to her shoulders, the familiar pattering of claws against pavement as George paced nearby. Her fingers still twisted in the denim of her jeans, she raised her head to Collie's beckoning words, and tried to focus the blurred tunnel of her vision onto his eyes. Maybe it was instinct to search for a hint of mockery or insincerity in them, but she found only concern and kindness — a kindness she had never thought she deserved. She managed a feeble nod of her head as the rhythm of his calm breathing filled her senses, and the pain clenching her throat and chest slowly eased. Air flowed into her lungs again, lighting small, fleeting pricks of pain, a remainder of pneumonia and a number of other past anxiety attacks suffered in the quiet of her room.
indentindentKate didn't fight it when Collie wrapped an arm around her to help her stand. All the strength and stability seemed to have drained out of her body, and she had to fight in order to move her feet toward the passenger seat. Her legs trembled underneath her, and it was a relief to lean against his steady weight before she all but collapsed into the truck, feeling like a small child sinking into the threadbare seat, her hair wet from the rain. The fight was gone, and she was too tired to consider anything but allowing herself to be driven out of the town — all she wanted was to get away, away from the curious eyes and the half-truths spreading from one mouth to another. The pain sank like a heavy, cold stone into the center of her body.

indentindentThe truck shook on its suspension as Collie hauled the dog food onto the bed, and Kate distantly noted the driver's side door closing before the engine rumbled to life. A kind of haze clung to her mind, the tired aftermath, making the rest of the world feel somewhat separate from her. Perhaps it was a way to cope after the attack had wrung everything out of her, and as the truck began to move, she sat still in her seat, head turned slightly toward the passenger side window, but not looking at anything in particular while the buildings slid away and turned into forest. There were stains on the denim stretched over her thin knees, either tears or rain. Eventually, George couldn't contain herself anymore and stuck her head over the shoulder of the seat to lick at the streaks staining the skin of Kate's cheek. It stirred her a little bit, even as she leaned away from the slobbery tongue, raising her hand to scratch at her neck and mumble a quiet apology for having pushed the dog away for trying to help.
indentindentThe silent drive had settled Kate enough for her to notice that they were veering away from the familiar road back to the house, and a relief to an anxiety she hadn't realised she'd been feeling spread into her chest — she hadn't been ready to go back and be confronted with everyone's concern at her appearance. Getting off the asphalt and onto dirt had the truck shaking again, and it jostled her to pay attention to the clearing opening around them. Clearly Collie's instincts weren't always entirely terrible, and if Kate was thankful for what he was doing for her sake, she didn't yet have the words to voice it. He got out of the truck and Kate opened her door, but rather than rising out, she planted her shoes onto the ground and sat like that for a while. The hum of the town had turned into a verdant silence, punctuated by the wind drifting through the branches overhead.
indentindentEven as he climbed onto the hood of the truck, like a lunatic, Kate couldn't help but admit that he was right, for once. The war had gone, spat her out into civilian life, only to spawn another war that seemed to live entirely in her head. She leaned out of the truck, momentarily pressing her face into her hands to rub at her eyes that ached in the aftermath of crying, before lowering her head to stare at her own shoes amid the litter of browned pine needles crowding the forest floor. To her own surprise, she did want to talk about it, but she had no idea where to begin. There was entirely too much to say it in a way that would have been coherent, even to another soldier. Her shoulders deflated, shifting like two battered hills underneath the fabric of her jacket, as her sharp elbows pressed into her knees.

indentindentindent"Everyone keeps saying that they know how I feel, and even when they don't, I know they're thinking that they do," she started, talking more to the air and the trees than Collie, because she didn't know if she could get the words out otherwise. Her voice grew thin, like a piece chipped from something far larger, threatening to resurface the tears, but she'd cried them all out. She'd never quite said it, not outright: "I did die. I drowned with my soldiers, but then I was on the shore, and I wasn't dead anymore. I was just cold. Lost."
indentindentKate was quiet for a moment, leaning her head in her hands again, like she needed to catch her breath after saying what had been haunting her for so long. Then there was anger, flaring out in the undercurrent of her words.
indentindentindent"I got eight men killed, and I couldn't help a single one of them. Someone else had to save me." She thought about Luz, about coughing water onto the ice, and the beams of the rescue helicopter washing over them like the lights you're meant to see when you die. "I spent a month on bed rest recovering from pneumonia, being constantly told that I wasn't at fault for anything, while eight soldiers sat at the bottom of the sea. I never stopped feeling like a murderer." The truth was heavy when spoken out loud, but it had lived in her head for two years. She felt guilty. Deserving of the blame that everyone refused to give her. It didn't matter that someone else had been driving: she had been responsible for those soldiers. Their safety, their lives, had been hers to look after. She had failed.
indentindentAs if very little mattered anymore, Kate rose from the truck and climbed onto the hood of the truck to sit beside Collie. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her eyes still turned to the woods as if looking at Collie would have made it too painful to speak. She didn't take the rolos he offered.
indentindentindent"I've been unfair to you," she admitted, as hard as it was. "I assumed you knew, like everyone else, but I don't think you do." She had seen the article, of course she had, eyed over it before shoving it into the trash can as if she could have caused those awful sentences pain. "They put it on the news. It was everywhere. Of course they did, because when was the last time eight soldiers died on Canadian soil with survivors left to gawk at?" Training accidents weren't unheard of: helicopters going down, shots misfired. Yet not only had Luz surfaced relatively unscathed, due to the pure chance of having been seated near the only open route from the wreck, but their sergeant had died, been pulled out of the sinking carrier, and then resuscitated on the shore. It was a headline one could click on. Never would they have published the name of the survivors without their consent, and thus Luz had been spared, but Kate had initially been declared dead. Her name had leaked.
indentindentindent"Everyone knows who I am. They call me a hero, or they stare at me, and everywhere I go, the world seems to find some way of punishing me. I've never felt innocent."

[senna_]

❝ 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘-𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐎 ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

'xxxxshift. western diamondback viper xxxlocation. kitchenxxxmentions. josiexxxtags. vic
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'Being up before the sun always felt like an accomplishment to Avery-Laine, who was content hanging out with little more than the hungry robins pecking at the scraps on the forest floor nearby. Letting out a puff, her eyes lazily followed the thin, translucent path of smoke that was reaching up toward the craning sun. She gently tapped her vape against the side of her thigh, outlining it with her thumb. Smoking had always been a bad habit of hers: it started young and was only encouraged by the impoverished associations she spent so much time around. Avery had tried to quit enough times that she had accepted it wasn’t going to be accomplishable. It was one of the few things she felt powerless over. Power was something Avery had a complicated relationship with; what consisted of power, real power? She had always envisioned power to consist of dominance, a stoic authoritarian position. But leadership when it came to a group of people versus being the leader of one’s own emotions. In Avery’s position, overlooking the needs of her feelings was her version of being a leader.

____The sun was approaching quickly, eager to outline the heads of the flourishing trees. Sunlight burst against the grey-blue skyline, so intense that Avery found herself shielding her eyes before the sun even presented itself to her. “Right,” she muttered under her breath, sighing to herself before pushing up onto her feet. “Can’t hide out here forever.” Almost reluctantly, Avery stretched, arms raising above her head, and one eye closed in a half-wince as her body went crack crack crack in three different spots. Her back was sore from sitting, likely from having curled her torso over her knees. The forest that outlined the path she walked back on was growing noisier by the second as more birds awoke for their busy day. She shoved the vape in her pocket and turned her attention onto the headphones that were half-coiled around her neck, pushing them up to sit over her ears. The soft hum of music played in the background as she strolled back to the cabin, turning off the music and setting the headphones back against the tops of her shoulders once she reached the main entrance.

____It was chatty in the house, Avery noted as she stepped foot through the doorway. It didn’t take long to realize that the majority of the chatter was coming from the kitchen. Through the mumble mix of voices, it didn’t take much to pick out one in particular. Avery could recognize Josie’s voice anywhere, the voice from the person who had once felt so much like home. Caught off guard, Avery froze mid-step. Was that something she needed to encounter right now? Was that something she wanted to put herself through? She decided to go for it; it was hardly a threatening environment with so many others nearby. She twisted the various rings on her fingers, as if to straighten each of them out for an upcoming presentation, when in reality, her hands slipped right back into the depths of her pockets.

____Her dark eyes were quick to settle on Vic, who was quietly minding her own business amongst the rest of them, as she entered the busy kitchen. “Hey, baby,” she greeted casually, fingers curling in towards the palm of her hand in greeting. The brewing coffee had presented itself with a strong intensity, its scent finding its way into the very corners of the room. The smell of coffee wasn’t something that bothered them, but Avery had never really been a fan of the strong drink. She walked by the pot, swooping her arm towards one of the cabinets to seek out a kettle, which was stored just behind a plethora of unorganized mugs. Straightening out her fingers as if to avoid touching as much as possible, she pushed the mugs aside one by one to make a clear path for the kettle, then stretched her arm out and grabbed hold of it, carefully making sure that its cord didn’t knock over any in the mugs as she pulled it out of the crowded, boxy area. Avery moved silently toward the sink, determined not to get whisked into the tornado of conversation. As she flicked on the kettle, she grew aware of the weight of her headphones against the back of her neck. It would be easy to avoid getting caught up in anything, one move of their hands and their attention would be sucked up by the fake music that was playing out of the headpiece. But that was a move for a weakling, she wasn’t going to shy away from acknowledgment. Besides, they knew that she – that certain she – wouldn’t utter a word, anyway. The cold greeting of her back was enough for Avery.

____As the kettle started whistling, Avery nodded once towards Vic, hopefully just enough to catch the brunette’s attention. “That book by Gilbert, that tattoo history one? Such a good read, you hit the nail on the head there.” With a click, the kettle turned off, and Avery turned around to unplug it, one hand reaching for the cord plugged into the outlet while the other plucked a packaged tea bag from the small collection of them stacked up on a glass tray. Plopping the tea bag into her mug, Avery carefully poured the hot water, the comforting scent of green tea bursting into her senses the very second the water made contact with the tea bag. Filling it a little less than three-quarters, Avery plopped the kettle down on the counter, then grabbed hold of the mug before turning back to face the small crowd of people sitting at the table.

____Carefully, their hands still gripping the mug, Avery shifted, watching the hot tea inside stir against the sides of the ceramic cup. A hint of a smug smile played on her lips. “We should go get one together.” The smile, almost ghostly, was enough to show that Avery’s words were nothing more than just that, words. The odds of getting Vic out to get tattooed were slim to none. She could feel Josie’s hot gaze on her person, or perhaps it was simply her presence that was making Avery feel so heightened. She didn’t dare make eye contact, not even for a second. Rather, she eyed Hank, pressing her lips as if in silent acknowledgment. “What’cha got going on today?”