Heron Lake Plateau i.x : who was only a stranger at home

Consciousness returned gradually over the course of several minutes. The first sense to return was touch. Her head ached something awful and she was wet and cold. She began to shudder, then groan as she woke more and more. Her eyes began to flutter, then peeled open slowly. That was when the smells hit her: blood, piss and shit. She moaned again, trying to roll over from her side to her belly. It made her head throb even as she became aware of the bodily fluids slathered into her fur.

"Wh'th'fuck..." the mercenary slurred, her usual garble even more difficult to decipher as she ascertained the situation. Her orange gaze panned over her body before finally lifting somewhat, spotting Quixote's legs and traveling slowly up to his face. "The fuck—" she mumbled a little more clearly, feeling more awake with every passing second.

Even as she pushed upright with a groan—this headache was killer, her shoulder was sore too and not to mention how gross she felt covered in what appeared to be excrement—Towhee's slightly scrambled brains tried to piece together what was going on here. The last thing she remembered was... concentrating made her vision blur for a second but then she caught a few snatches. X was leading her to the borders. Niamh was motioning her closer. There was the Swamp Thing...

It clicked into place suddenly and Towhee gave Quixote a rather absurd look before looking around, which was a mistake; it made her head pound. "Where'd she go—where'd they go? I was—" She was going for the throat. "I was trying to kill her but then—" But then... what? She narrowed her eyes to slits, staring studiously into space. But there was nothing there after the lunge for Swamp Thing's jugular.

She must have hit her head somehow, though Towhee couldn't think how that could've happened. "Why am I covered...? Fuck me," the Beta muttered, looking down at herself. Now she was Swamp Thing.