Wheeling Gull Isle There are darknesses in life

Pack Formation Thread: Border Marking
@Rokig @Firefly @Strand

It had been almost three weeks since the assault on her person. She itched and felt as though ants were crawling along her skin. Thick scabs covered her throat, and the place where he ear had previously been was still very painful. Padma settled near the freshwater pond at the center of the island. Strangely enough it was where the girl first met Strand.

There scent was becoming stronger on the island, others coming and going, but their scent always remained the same. During her time trapped on the island and at the mercy of the universe Padma found it hard to sleep, nightmares plagued her. The dark shadow that had been her assailant visiting her nightly in her dreams. Images of her blood draining from her body. She decided that sleep wasn’t necessary. Instead she found herself limping slowly along the edge of the island, committing the land to memory.

One such dream brought forth her frightened scream, pulling her into the land of the living.

His first thought when he saw her was of Rosalyn. Her wounds were fresh though. A missing ear, some ruination to an otherwise pleasant enough sculpt of flesh - but eerily similar. Firefly hadn't wanted to reflect on the life he'd run away from or the time after, as it made him feel as if he were drowning all over again. The guilt wasn't the reason for his suffering - but his failure, his inability to win against the warrior woman on the cliff, or the women of Rusalka before that. Within him was a festering wound that no amount of poultice, rest, or food could concievably correct.

He watched her from a far-off vantage point where he rested, day in and day out, until he had enough strength to try and stand on half-healed limbs. The scars to his hocks were well looked after with Strand's rudimentary abilities; what Firefly could remember from Willow and Nettle he put to good use - he would be up and about soon enough. Days turned to night, night was driven back by sunlight or dreary cloud. Firefly waited and his body recovered.

Then, in the night, a perilous scream thrust itself in to the blackness and he jarred awake, lurching to his paws and directing himself without thought towards the sound. Firefly tumbled as he fought against the loose dry sand along the upper edge of the beach, kicking up a cloud of dust as he moved with a sleepy stupor; his heart thundered in his breast, and he sought out the sleeping girl without knowing what he was hunting for.

When he found her sleeping figure he was surprised by it, but by that point he was at least cognizant enough not to tumble in to her or trip on his own feet. He slowed to a crawl - then a stop - and looked around in grim silence for dangers, and did not realize he'd ripped open his hocks all over again in the tumult.

           

The scent of blood permeated the air, pulling the girl from her fitful slumber. With a gasp she sat up, she too pulled at the wound around her neck in her haste. His black fur reminiscent of the man that now plagued her sleep. She rose to her paws as fast as she could, and backed away. “Stay away from me.” As the words harshly left her mouth, she took note of the golden blond fur along his cheeks and upper body.

“Who are you?” In days past she would never have thought to be so rude, but now she didn’t care. Her fear overcame the manners of her past. Her amber eyes glistened, as she watched the brute closely waiting for any move he might make. She wasn’t much of a fighter, but she would fight tooth and nail if she had to.

When he arrived he expected danger, but found nothing. The sharp intake of his own breath heralded the harm his racing had done; Firefly paused to look back at his hindquarters for confirmation that he'd torn open his wounds. He didn't need to, but it helped to hide the grimace that plagued his scarred face — and as he huffed a few breaths, he calmed himself down. As he turned to survey the surroundings again he heard a clear shout, and the defiance in that voice made his ears slick back.

Stay away from me! The girl all but hissed at him and recoiled from him, backing away like a snake coiling to attack. Her voice wasn't familiar; the words didn't phase him too much after they cut through the stillness, but Firefly found her cowering to be curious. He'd never seen a creature so pitiful that they were afraid of their own shadow.

Still, the stranger managed to gather some of her limited wits and went back on her own command — ( Who are you? ) — seeking information after so hastily trying to escape from him. Women — they were all hysterical. With a few huffs and puffs Firefly tried to regulate his racing heart, contain that animal thrill beneath his skin that had reacted to her screaming with such a visceral, defensive maneuver. 

He turned his hazy gaze towards her and snorted. Make up your mind, girl — keep away, or stay and chat while you get over yourself? I can't do both. If she wasn't in danger then he wasted his time coming all the way out here; he should've been resting, not bleeding for the sake of this miserable girl.

           

A snarl lifted her lip after a moment. His words striking a cord with her, “Fuck you.” She spat, instantly angered. “You startled me first. Don’t sneak up on me.” Padma huffed, a deep seated glare narrowing her eyes.

“Now answer the question.” She wouldn’t back down, despite the fear gripping her heart, Padma insisted. She wouldn’t cower as she had before. She was done begging; it had gotten her nowhere before. “Who are you.”

While waiting for an answer, she took in his scares. Searching for the wound that now bled freely. Now that she thought clearly, she realized that Strand’s scent clung to his fur. Perhaps his wasn’t an enemy, but that didn’t stipulate him as a friend.

She was quite a piece of work. The man had half a mind to turn and leave her there in the dark if that's how he'd be recieved - but as soon as he tried to turn and take a step, he realized his hocks were in a much worse condition than he initially realized. It was enough to curb his escape, but the sharp quality of the freshly opened wounds did very little in curbing his attitude.

You were the one that was screaming, lady. He shot back — not yet ready to relinquish the information she seemed so adamant in obtaining. What good was a name? Who the hell cared what he was called? Now calm down; I'm not here to start shit with you. I thought you were in danger, but fuck me for tryin' to help I guess. She had some spunk to her, but it wasn't a quality that Firefly found particularly appealing these days.

Maybe he could still try to walk it off. Even if it hurt, and even if he bled freely across the beach through the dark, he'd at least be free of her harping.