Stone Circle Happiness Is A Warm Gun

marten was nothing but an innocent bystander. he did not know vespera -- not like that -- and he most certainly did not know the turmoil she faced. he was not there the day of leta's death, he only knew the tale. and even so, no one wanted to speak of the details that followed... marten only knew what happened, and he left it at that. why would he hurt by prying? it was not his business, it did not effect him not to know. he did not know what ailed the wolf -- how could he? so, as he stood below by the river, merely glancing to see the dark wolf -- who did not seem to notice him at all, mind you -- marten watched from the corner of his eye as her body was suddenly airborne -- crashing through the air and into the river.

red. stained red was a streak along the rushing water as marten quickly turned his attention to the river. he tracked it with his gaze until it found the dark figure of vespera sinking into the water. marten, surprisingly calm for what had just happened, moved quickly. he did not fully understand what had happened -- perhaps she had slipped -- but he saw the blood and that she was not coming to the surface, and he needed to act fast. 

the pale boy -- oh, but was he hardly even so? -- dove into the water, limbs propelling him towards her figure. thankfully he moved with the current in his favor, and was able to arrived quickly and with little effort. marten was a dog, he could swim, but he had never gone below the surface before. still, he remained unperturbed, knowing that if he didn't do it he may allow for something worse to happen. he ducked below the surface, feeling the cool water against his face, eyes blinking as he swam down, down, down. it was not a pleasant feeling -- and he couldn't really see. but marten kept going, down, down, down. murkiness swam around him, blood tainting the water. bubbles rose from his nose, the tightness of holding his breath hitting his chest. but he swam still. 

until -- his teeth found fur, and he latched on and pulling up, now against the current as he began to paddle upwards. it was harder, now, with dead weight attached to his mouth. he held her by what must've been the scruff -- but perhaps not, marten could not see well no matter how many times he blinked. up, up, up he swam, every muscle in his body screaming, until he hit the surface. and with a huge gasp of air through wet fur, marten let the current carry him for a moment, before beginning again to paddle, straining to make it to shore. 

a forelimb caught the edge of a stone, and with all his effort marten managed to use it to grab hold of the shore. he hoisted himself and the body along with him, panting from his exhaustive efforts -- though his adrenaline was doing it's job. he looked to the dark body, waiting for it to move. it did no such thing. wondering what on earth had happened, unsure of what he could do but knowing he should try, marten tilted back his head and called for wolves he knew. @Greyback and @Valette, his mama @Indra, @Arlette, too. but anyone could come. he needed help, she needed help, and more heads were better than one.

in the meantime, marten reared back and slammed his forepaws down on her chest. it was incredibly improper technique, possibly more damaging than helpful, but he knew he needed to get the water out of her lungs, and this was the only way he could think of doing it. again. and again. blood from the wound on her face pooled around her, but marten had no time to worry about that. again. and again.