Swiftcurrent Creek Its been one week since you looked at me

Indra could only fight for so long before she was too weak to resist the allure of water and food.

She ate sparingly when meat was brought to her. The water she refused repeatedly whenever it was delivered in a vessel, to the point that she had a constant dehydration headache; but when Indra had some energy (and an escort) she was led to the creek's edge and left to drink there.

Her wound festered. She wouldn't let anyone near enough to care about it, or about her, and didn't trust either of the black-furred wolves who had put her in this position. Without tending the injury would definitely scar, leaving a patch of fur missing along her chest where it appeared someone had tried to rip out her heart.

That's what it felt like. Even now, as she hunched at the water's edge and glared at it, blaming it as much as her captors, Indra could only think of Colt and feel the throbbing of her chest.

he got her to the meat, that fucker, and now her own rotten blood was stuck to her tongue, but fuck it all -

gun could wait no more.

it was not with any subtlety or stealth or even basic fucking grace that she came trough the wood, trough those sparse thickets what choked the creek and its shit-and-guts muddled shore. ballsy (@Akavir) and balls-less (@Arric) and that third limping dishrag among them (@Mother) would know her by the scent of her pungent discharge and blunt-headed forward charge.

but she needed find red. to please tarsnout, if she needed pick a reason. own possessive stubbornness guided her fine enough.

her wrinkles stirred the ground scents to her flattened muzzle, and led her on a wild scentchase, avoiding some and following another. when a reek of untended wounds found her nostrils, she needed only follow...

...and find her.

"-red!" the dog woofed, panting, snorting.

unless @Akavir told him to shove off, lestan would remain in the creek's vicinity, bringing water and food to the stubborn girl.
it was thus only luck that had the man so close this day, enough to see the giant form of the same scarred intruder. right, he thought with a huff.
"stop!" he shouted, lunging out of the underbrush. "i know she's yours — she's one of yours! but you cannot invade this claim over and over. it will only bring violence."
his eyes pleaded with the great gnarled beast to understand.

It sounded like a boar was in the undergrowth, truthfully.
Some broad-shouldered beast, truffle-hunting, and dragging heel through piles of leaf-litter and whatever other detritus littered the forest floor. It wasn't common in Indra's experience to find one roaming singularly, especially so close to water (she imagined such a creature could not swim well, and had no need for fish); so when the sound got closer and as a result, louder, she turned her white ear towards it and then her full focus.
What emerged was something grotesque, but familiar. A slovenly arrangement of folds, copper-toned, almost slug-like with how it moved. She saw one trunk-like leg and its wide paw crush some brackish leaves and then beyond that stride, a pugged face, and a gnarly scar twisting there.
Red! The ugly bitch snorted.
Almost immediately Indra heard that word and knew at once why they were here, and felt the elation of being remembered - even sought out! Rescued!
Stop!
Her watcher, having minded her for many hours now, lunged from the underbrush. He thought his words might sway the beast; but Redbird glared at him and made to move around him, seeking whatever safety and security Gun posed; but she couldn't make it far without great pains, and slowed as soon as she began.
Indra didn't want to stop. She wanted to be where she belonged - to see her gang again and to be appreciated as more than a prisoner, or a bartering chip, but she had to stop. If she moved too quickly the pain in her chest would choke her.

The beast was lumbering and foolish—tearing through brush and trees like a freight train, and he was quick on her heels, eyes fast upon the festering wound he had inflicted on her in retribution to what she had tried to do to Arric.

He wasn’t letting the mutt from his sight.

So when she came thundering toward the area their little redhead guest was, she was met with the shout of Lestan. Akavir, shadowed, angry, pulled up closer to his relation, a snarl on his lips that didn’t form to sound. “This one here tried to tear Arric apart.”

His eyes then sought Indra, who had to move slowly to even move toward the dog, so injured she was. “Resting time is over. Off you go,” he jeered, knowing full well that either were likely too sick or injured to come from this in their prime near the very end.

He was far from caring, now. He should have let the girl hobble off with the silver wolf on the day of the attack.

posting to get indra & gun off & away! <3

hot on the dog-woman's heels was the dark leader. lestan blanched a little and pushed red closer to her savior.
"get out!" he shouted in an effort to placate the other mayfair. but his voice trembled with concern. "get out. and don't ever come back."
his accent thickened. there was a brief worry for the girl's condition but that was all. that was all that could be. it was over now. the dog and the wolf needed to get away quickly.

The black-furred bastard arrived as she was struggling to run, and before she knew it there was the helpful weakling (Lestan) too; but together they drove at her, and the closer of the two shouted that she should run, run! Get out!

Indra wouldn't recall the moments between taking flight and her escape, not for ages. The pain was too much; the panic, also. She struggled for any steps but forced herself after Gun, thinking my heart is going to explode here and now and I'll never see my family again.

But she was away, at last, and running in her pathetic way alongside the more-skin-than dog rescuer; behind them was Lestan, and Akavir, while before them was the terrible wilderness and a winter Indra was not at all equipped to handle.

Indra out!

back from hiatus, just wrapping this up <3

gun was one dumb, dumb kid of a bitch, as her mama was, but past the shriveled brainstem, her body had a smidge more intellect stored - it kept her tongue fused to the mouth, else she say something that'd get her and the lil' red killed. 

didn't stop her lips from pulling back, nor her throat from rumbling when another stranger came up, though.

the woman positioned herself between the younger one and the male, who brought with him the reek of the creek, of the man that fucked her up into a limp. her hackles were like a cat's, only rising higher when the man himself came onto the scene.

but gun said nothing. she stepped back whenever the men blathered at her, pushing red back, testing them.

they'd let them leave. 

and it did not feel like a win for the gang.

gun snorted. watery green eyes went from man to man, then glanced at the reason she had come. red was of the gang, and the gang was gun's, and what was hers no one was allowed to mess with. the fresh scars on that vividly red fur were insults to the mastiff.

but fuck it, her hind leg was already shaking.

spending only another moment watching the creekmen, the woman turned, pushing the wolfess into motion. she ran at a medium speed, to preserve her own strength, and to make it abundantly clear she was not afraid, was no coward.

the creek would someday pay for what they did to tarsnout's gang.

The dog was brazen with her slower lope—the red girl tearing away when adrenaline seemed to kick in. Akavir slowed, his gaze heated as he stared after them, waiting for them to disappear from view.

His breathing was rapid—the rise and fall of his chest. The mutt had done a good one on Arric, and he felt the fury boiling within—what did these people want from them?

A quick glance to Lestan, his gaze sweeping over the brown wolf to ensure he hadn’t gotten hurt in whatever crossfire had potentially happened in the chaos. He seemed fine.

“Arric is wounded,” he began, his voice rough from the fight.

lestan out, feel free to PP him or assume he came with!

just like that, they were gone. indra was a red flame that streaked away from the creek. and her large lumbering benefactor went more slowly. he watched her with his pensive expression until akavir's hardened voice brought him to present.
"i'll come help." not good with herbs or plants, lestan would do what he was able. he loped after the dark mayfair, looking back only once.