The world had gone utterly mental in the past few weeks and Blitz didn't know where to go, who to turn to, or what to do about the trembling earth. There really was nothing he could do about it except for run, full-tilt, while trying to avoid a rockslide or the deterioration of the mountain path as he careened along. The wolf had not come this way by choice.
He had been exploring further south when the world began to die; whatever monster slept beneath rhe crust was much more immense than the native inhabitants could ever know. Hell, Blitzkrieg had been living south of the Teekon Wilds for ages now, surviving on his wits, avoiding anything that even vaguely resembled the black winged beast which had stolen him from home — out of one fire, in to another, right? If it wasn't a skyward demon trying to snatch you, it was the earth eager to gobble you up! How unfair.
Okay, back to the moment at hand: Blitz was running along a jagged path that cut northward across a mountain slope, breathing hard, tasting copper in his saliva, feeling the burn of his lungs and tongue. He slid to a stop on the edge of a ravine but was nearly bowled in to it by his own momentum; for a brief yet terrifying moment his hindquarters went up, and he thought he'd tumble butt-over-face down the cliffside to the gully below.
When his paws touched down against the soil again he felt a flood of relief — and as his heart's pace began to regulate he took a breath, becoming suddenly aware of wolf scent (
@Hydra). In a matter of seconds he would likely be the target of some guardsman, considering he had inadvertantly crossed in to claimed territory during his frenzied sprint.
It was strange, the in-between between Summits, but Hydra marked Moonspear well enough that any for miles would know to beware. And it so happened that she recently—very recently, in fact—marked the borders in which the stanger so haplessly slid into. Had she not seen his fall, Hydra would have accosted him to the point of death then and there, but she had fortunately enough for him.
He would not be staying long; he would get up, and he would go (if she had it her way). Hydra spun on her heel with a warning snarl, tail thrust over her hindquarters and ears tipping forward; the sound from her throat rose in pitch, preceding the violence that would come if he did not find his way beyond her borders; until he was, he would not be safe from her wrath. Her patience was thinning, and he had been warned—she prepared to pick up her own pace, should he not react in a timely enough manner for her.
Alas, if it was not one black beast out for blood it was another. The roar rivaled that of the helicopter which had grabbed him; he thought it had certainly returned and in a moment of panic, looked skyward, the whites of his eyes catching the light. There was a stampede sweeping down the mountain towards him which thundered concurrent to the bestial sound. Blitz had always been fleet of foot, spinning and launching himself from the edge of the crevasse in the manner of a routed fox. He looked akin to one — more brown and cream and ultimately too autumnal for such a comparison, but in build and finesse, it fit perfectly.
He crossed the line in moments and did not know of it, stumbling out of his haphazard, coltish sprint as a growth of interlocking trees forbade him passage. The boy was immediately corralled. At the very least he was outside the limits which the sweeping shadow patrolled (just barely - would it be enough?). Now he truly felt the burn inside of him; searing him to cinders, so it felt, and he gasped and wheeled about beside the trees, snorting, coughing, spittle hanging from his chin.
Blitzkrieg set his wild eyes upon the fearsome creature tailing him and dropped to his belly (more from sheer exhaustion than anything) and while his sides heaved he choked out the words, S-s-stop pl-pleas-s-e, I can't-- I --- world is -- ending, I can't run, can't go -- f, fast 'nuff.
Hydra followed him until she was satisfied, and wheeled around; she paced the forests edge where he collapsed until his sputtering words caused her to emerge from them, the shade the woods cast upon her darkening her glowering features further. Breathe,
she commanded, and speak clearly.
Hydra could piece together his words well enough, and her gaze assessed him for injury. He simply seemed exhausted, and Hydra's gaze prepared to take all of him in but firstly, it landed upon the collar around his neck.
That was different. She had not seen something like this before, and she did not know what to make of it. No, wait—there was something familiar about it... yes, she had seen such a thing before. She had not trusted its strangeness then, and trusted it as much now as she did then. Hydra had never liked different. Is what is upon your throat bringing your world to an end?
She inquired; it had not been her to do so (yet... though, there was still time). It had not done so to Dune but perhaps his throat was trapped in an entirely different way. It hardly looked like a gift, as she recalled the pale man describing it.
No... it did seem like some sort of end.
When she came to him, it was with the chilling confidence of a panther in the night; having pursued her prey and found it wounded, she wove between familiar trees without a sound; he would wonder later on if the wind slackened to her will, if the trees stopped their whispering because of her presence. Her attention was felt keenly and had he the will, the boy would have let the earth devour him if it meant an easing of her purposeful restraint. When she spoke to him it was with a level tone, resolute; it was the voice of someone accustomed to giving orders, and had Blitzkrieg managed to glance upon her, he would see a tumult of steel in her gaze.
He took a breath and it shuddered through him. His sides moved like a bellows, in, out, in, hardly changing despite his prone status against the dirt. He thought - surely - that she would step across the line and snuff the life from him in a second if he did not do as commanded, but by holding his breath and trying to force the rapidity of his pulse to ebb, he made himself sick with vertigo. The boy swayed, and gasped, and soon enough was able to speak.
Although, the stranger had questions. Blitzkrieg's face pinched at the brow; he had forgotten about the adornment to his neck. Wh-what? Oh, oh this -- no,
his chin dipped and he looked awkwardly at the black line across the cream of his throat, then up again, catching the menacing shine of her eyes for but a moment. That's nothin', really. I... The mountain, the.. The lands south, they tremble. They shake like -- oh, hell, I sound a few sticks short ova dam, aye?
A loon. He sounded utterly bonkers and he knew it. I was runnin' cuz the earth wanted tah eat me. Have you felt it?
Beyond his accent, Hydra could scarcely discern the meaning of what he referred to himself as. But what she could translate she understood well enough. The earth trembles here, too. Less so upon the mountain than what surrounds it,
she shared. For she had seen the trees quiver and the birds flee beyond. For its own part, Moonspear seemed stable... but she suspected that the surrounding territories would have some effect. Namely, near the area she stood. She felt the need to get away from this particular stretch of land, and would soon enough.
Firstly, though, was this. The earth does not want to eat anyone. What is simply is,
she had long since decided that the world did what it did for no other reason than, well, this just being the course of things. Though she wished her parents were here to provide some guidance, Hydra would not fret or cause alarm. Something felt off about this area, though; she would advise her subordinates to avoid it. I imagine in time this will pass. How long, who knows. And I suppose the earth will take others with it, where it might give...
He had almost been such a casualty, after all. How to make certain that her own were not...?
It was clear she could get no more answers from him, though; he knew as little as she did, and had far less confidence. With a sigh, Hydra said, do not fear. Death comes for us all, someday; it is lifes one guarantee,
and with a bemused grin, she inquired, if these were your final days, what would you do with them?
it seemed he did think it so; why should he not tell her? Why should she not ask?
Some time passed, and Hydra gestured toward safer climes for his amusing her. Safe travels,
Hydra advised, though once he was out of sight Hydra thought no more on his wellbeing.