Chimera Fields cuffed the wrong one [BWP]

Anyone!

He drifted in a haze, as if he were drowning — yet he could still breathe. The sound of the deafening monster above with its terrible buzzing sound still rung in his ears. He could still feel the strange, thin fingers of the alien creatures pressing and holding him, speaking a foreign, garbled language. He remembered the giant monster swooping low, chasing him through the field he had foolishly run to, before there was a sharp prick on his hindquarters and then...black.

Redshank woke with a start, eyes fluttering open in a panic. His mind reeled and thoughts swam, his vision blurred. All around was white, a blinding starkness that hurt his head and so he shut tight his eyes once again. His stomach churned. The boy hadn't even gotten to questioning what exactly had happened, physical concerns overtaking his worries for the moment.

He roused again, releasing a strained whine as his legs refused to cooperate. Something at his neck rubbed and twisted, but he ignored it, all his energy focused on simply standing up. With effort, the drugged wolf finally managed to get into a sort of upright position, hind legs still splayed awkwardly behind him. Redshank took a few moments to get his bearings, head drowsily swivelling in confusion, before he dared take a single step forward...and fell right back onto his face.

She wasn't sure why she was traipsing about here, but as a character who tended to get flung across the map on a whim, it makes sense.  Sometimes a jaunt inland did the body and soul some good.  And sometimes it was nice to get away from the smell of salt, if only so she could miss it a bit.

The other wolf caught her attention in periphery, rising unsteadily.  She honed in, and a wicked amusement rose when he tottered, then face planted, obviously unable to walk.  A normal wolf might have felt concern, but Rosalyn had to fight to keep a laugh from bubbling up.  If he died she might feel bad; right now he looked ridiculous.

"Having a day, are we?" She sang out cheerfully, approaching with a jaunty gait.  She didn't get too close; he might be crazy, after all, and she wasn't an idiot.  But hell if she wasn't going to poke a little fun.

He fought against a wave of nausea as he righted himself again, limbs quivering as they unsteadily held his weight. As he slowly began to fully realise where he was, the boy finally started to wonder how exactly he had gotten here. Flickers of memory - of the monster's thunderous roaring, the sharp sting at his rear - passed through his mind but refused to stick. He stared at the frosted ground with furrowed brows, trying to piece things together before he heard laughter and a playful, if not mocking, voice.

He swung his head around, unfocused gaze passing over the stranger's form twice before it settled upon her. She shared his dark coat, though it seemed more ruddy in comparison, and infinitely more tidy than his would ever be. Redshank noted her distance and released a growl in warning, though it was laughably weak. "I'll show y-you a day..." he slurred in retaliation, stepping forward again as he swayed, trying his best to intimidate the amused woman.

He was a tottering mess, slurring and leaning in a somewhat alarming manner.  A smarter wolf might've turned tail, but Rosalyn often managed to get into stupid situations merely because she was interested.  And right now? This guy was interesting.

"I'm not convinced you could find 'a day' if it sat on you.  What's wrong with you?" She asked, her ears pushing forward even as she took a single step towards him.  Had he eaten something? If it was natural she needed to know what in the area to avoid, and if not... well she needed to know the sorts of wolves to watch out for too, right? If he was a threat she should warn the pack.

Her retort was unexpected — to be honest Redshank wasn't sure what he had been expecting — but nonetheless infuriating. His mind wasn't working quick enough to form a comeback, and so he stared at her dumbfounded, mouth opening and closing as he failed to make any sort of sound resembling speech. His ears swivelled like two satellite dishes gone rogue before he finally managed to cobble together a reply.

"I...th-they..." he stammered, jerking his head towards the sky helplessly. "Came from the sky." Ah, a coherent sentence!

He seemed severely out of it, and for the first time, Rosalyn considered the fact that he might be contagious.  She took another step back, wrinkling her nose.  "They sky? So a bird came and kicked your ass too, huh?"  That story was familiar.  Was there something wrong with the birds around here?

"Doesn't explain that though," she added, staring at the collar.  She had debated just leaving, but she felt a little more info would be nice.

She finally took a step back, and Redshank felt like he had something of a win there. He eased off his attempt at "intimidation", falling back into a sit as if in victory, though really it was because another wave of nausea threatened to cause him to puke his guts out all over the stranger. His vision still spun, but it seemed like he was slowly gaining control of his mind again, painfully slow as it was.

He gritted his teeth at her comment, half insulted, half frustrated that his brain wasn't cooperating enough to explain that no, these weren't birds, you idiot. At least, no bird he had ever seen before. "No, fuckin'..." he began, shaking his head, before he paused, following her suspicious gaze to his neck. He couldn't exactly see what she was staring at but he was suddenly keenly aware of the tightening pressure around his throat.

He let out a strangled yelp, flying to his feet and backing up several paces. "What the fuck? W-what is this?"

Ok so apprently he didn't even have any info to give her.  Yep.  She was curious and wanted to check it out closer, but no way was she closing in on this wolf who could have any sort of ailment causing him to act so erratically.

"You don't know?  You really are fucked then."  She said with a snort, backing up as well and preparing to bolt.  "Guess thanks to you I know to avoid any wierd birds.  Don't want my neck gettin taken."  She began to turn and sidle away, not sure if he was addled enough to want to come at her but not willing to take chances.  They were pretty much done here now.

She was firm in her assessment of his future, that he was fucked and there was no coming back from having some weird device clamped around his neck. Now that he was conscious of it, he felt it dig into his fur, irritating the skin there and grating against it with his every movement. He snarled as he tried to snap at it, only managing to graze his teeth against the fur at his chest. Goddamnit.

"Wai—" he began almost pleadingly, eyes locked onto her retreating form. Don't leave me. The woman was very obviously wary of him, though — who wouldn't be — and Redshank wasn't doing anything to ease her assumptions. He held her auburn form in his gaze for a moment more before his temper reignited and his moment of vulnerability was replaced with anger once again. "I hope they do, bitch," he slurred with a snarl before turning his back to the woman to take his leave.

She heard the plea, but she wouldn't risk it; she didn't owe him anything, and he had nothing she wanted.  She'd thought perhaps if recruiting him, but if he was ill, the threat was not worth it.

So she continued on, smirking slightly at the curse he threw her way and picking up speed to return home.  Ill intentions never bothered her much, but if a bird came and shat a weird thing on her neck, she guessed she knew who to blame.