Hoshor Plains The day the skies touched the earth

This thread takes place during the 'Twister of Terror'
See this thread for a damage report if you want to reference any, and to report your character's fate you can go to this thread.
We won't have rounds in this thread, it will be more of a messy one where every one can post about what your characters are doing at the time of the storm. Have fun with this!
- @Azzaro @Lavakho @Zoratto @Rhanno @Vitihi @Kivi @Awazzi @Tomahawk -

The winds that rolled through the silent Plains were the first sign. Rakharo was no Naturalist, but he knew how to recognize a storm threat when he saw one. It was easy to take a look at the sky from the open fields that was his land, and he spotted the cluster of clouds that formed in the far south he knew it was time to find shelter. It was tradition to be under the open skies for the Dotharan vulture, but they were not stupid as to think they would be safe always.

Rakharo howled as he decided Vaes Aenai was the place to retreat to, calling every member to join him there. His thoughts, worried and quick took him to Zhavvi. She was out there alone, the wind was heavy and the rain that was about to pour down would be cold and unforgiving for a loner. Where on earth was she? The Khal turned his fiery gaze to the North, the mountains ewhere he'd seen his daughter run to the last time hshe was seen and he spoke a prayer for the Golden Rhoa to protect her. He would. He had to.

But the life for Rakharo was different now. His daughter had earned her exile and he was in charge of the pack in Hoshor Plains and it's herds, which seemed to have retreated earlier in the day. It worried him, for they would have to be brought back to safety when the storm passed. Rakharo expected to have a rough night when he reached Vaes Aenai himself in the middle of a heavy blowing current of wind. Suddenly, a thin and tall tree nearby was torn out from the ground with a loud crack and was sent flying through the air a few meters above him. What on Rhoa's name was this madness!

The Khal took off to run towards the deeper hills of the Camp and there he howled again for his pack. Awazzi was old, she would need protection more than anyone else, and it worried him to not know where his Khaleesi was. The night had fallen early that day and the skies were too clouded all around. The wheezing sound of the wind took Rakharo's eyes to the south, where he saw a large tornado forming in front of his fiery gaze. It was lowering itself from the clouds, and when it touched the earth he could see how whatever was there in the spot it landed being blown away and around the tornado. Destruction was coming. Rakharo kept staring at the tornado until a loud crack made him flatten his soaked body to the ground. A lightning had just cracked in his land, and he saw how the grass immediately caught fire just a couple miles away. With the minutes it grew so large that the whole northern part of the plains had caught fire, and still he hadn't seen any of the other members.

He howled again, urging his pack to retreat to the camp but his loud roar was being silenced by the intimidating howls of the tornado in the distance. It was useless, and Rakharo decided to go look for his mates himself and ran down the hills of the camp. This would be a long night indeed.

He was far from Vaes Aenai when Rakharo called, but his body was made for running. He was already running for shelter anyway, but he wanted to be with his khalas. It was his duty to protect them, and if they were to die - he prayed to the Rhoa that no one would - he would rather die with them.

Zoratto was running at his peak now, his pale eyes occasionally flicking to the dark sky. He stopped in his tracks as he saw the massive funnel touch down, destroying all in its wake. A tornado. He had heard of such phenomena before, but never had he seen it, in all of its destructive beauty.

The tornado blocked his way to the Vaes Aenai, so he had to find another place to hide. But where? The plains were flat, perfect ground for a tornado to sweep through the land, destroying everything in its path. He snorted, then went southeast, to the mountains, but again, was blocked. Fire. Lightning struck quickly, the grass catching on fire nearly as fast as the lightning strike. Damnit.

The boardwide plot claims it's first life! @Rakharo and @Tomahawk, feel free to find Lavakho's charred remains on the northern fringe of the territory.

It was only a matter of days before Lavakho's brood was to make their way into the world.  Layaffi looked as if she was about to pop, and the rough and tough warrior was as giddy as a schoolgirl every time he thought about it.  Traditionally, a feast would be in order— however given the coyote's status, a hunt on her behalf was not in the cards. But, Lavakho had other plans.

Under the cover of the dark, morning sky, Lavakho trailed the herd of bison to the northernmost reaches of the Hoshor Plains with the intent to bring one down... solo.  In retrospect, with the storm brewing on the horizon, a solo hunt wasn't one of Lavakho's brightest ideas. Especially large prey, but after following the herd so far, he was hard-pressed to come back empty handed.  Ignoring his brother's initial warning, Lavakho took off like a bullet into the herd in the hopes he could is draw one of the weaker bison away from the rest of the herd.  The bison scattered before him and he selected his target, a small calf with a limp.  But, before he could make his charge, a deafening boom stopped Lavakho in his tracks.

Lighning struck a few hundred meters away setting the dry grass ablaze. With eyes wide with terror, Lavakho could only watch on as the bison panicked and ran every which way, trampling everything in their path— including Lavakho.  The heavy footfall of hooves hit Lavakho like a train.  His back snapped like a toothpick, leaving him broken, bleeding, and paralyzed in the tall grass— but still conscious enough to watch the flames travel closer and closer to his prone form. The bison scattered... and Lavakho was left alone to die.

A second howl from Rakharo pierced the air, and Lavakho knew it was a call he would never be able to answer.  He had failed in his duty as bloodfang.  With all the energy he could muster, he attempted to howl for aid, but the smoke was far too thick and howl was lost in a fit of coughs. Shutting his eyes for the last time, he resigned himself to wait for his young in the stars. Lavakho took one final breath before slipping away from the smoke, long before the flames could lick his body and reduce the once great warrior to bone and ash.

The howl was no more than a leaf on the wind, tumbled to her more by happenstance than intent. Her ears flicked lazily, her fur wind-whipped as she sat upon the altar of Hoyali Circle. Her jaws and chest were drenched with black, dried blood. Only the bones of her kill sat upon the blood soaked altar. The rains had begun, and would soon wash the blood away. It mattered little to her, as she had found her answers in the rabbit's intestines and in the marrow of its bones.

When the call went up, the storm becoming fiercer as it drew nearer, Awazzi decided to heed it. They would be no safer together, as storms heeded no numbers, but there might be comfort in company. If they should die tonight, then let it be together. She did not fear it, but would be pleased to die as she had once lived, beside a Khal and his khalasar.

A fire roared as she made her slow way to the morning camp. Vaes Aenai loomed, near yet impossibly far. It was a race, she realized with an exhilarated laugh. Would the fire claim her first? Or would she find safety in the morning camp? She made her steady way on, determined to find her answer.

I've decided to do no rounds in this thread, though if you want to earn the EXP for this thread you'll need to make at least three posts.
@Zoratto gave me the coolest idea and now Hoshor Plains is now victim of the cutest of things (psst, maybe Zoratto finds Rakharo??)

- @Azzaro @Zoratto @Rhanno @Vitihi @Kivi @Awazzi @Tomahawk -

Rakharo's patience was starting to fade, and he decided that he couldn't just shelter himself alone in the safety of Vaes Aenai. He needed to find the rest of his Khalas or he couldn't call himself a Khal anymore, so with determination, Rakharo set foot to gather his group. His calls were being silenced by the loud roars of the wind, which was threatening to pull Rakharo himself away from the land and flying in the air. The sky above was fully dark now, not only because the sun had completely set, but because the fire that had started in the north had made a column of smoke that blocked the view almost completely from Vaes Aenai to the north. And then, the ashened clouds above him starter twisting suddenly a mile or two ahead of him. A cone form started shaping itself downwards as Rakharo ran down the hills, but just before he'd managed to reach the plains below, the column of wind touched the ground with a roar and everything beneath it was abruptly torn out of the ground and thrown else where.

Rakharo halted to a full stop again, not so far away from the tornado. He didn't know thins, but across the monster, Zoratto was trying to reach safe grounds, and coincidentially, both of them decided to turn south when a lightning striked again with the loudest and most shocking sound Rakharo had ever heard. The Khal himself was thrown several feet back, the bolt had hit so close to him that he was feeling electric, and was almost deaf. Only a high-pitched beep was all he could hear. The grass in front of him had caught fire, too and it was spreading fast. Rakharo, deafened, tryied to crawl away from the fire, but the whirlwind had other plans, and slowly danced towards it. And when they merged, the wind caught fire too, making the column of air, a column of fire that rose dosens of feet above the ground, and faded away into yet another cloud of black smoke.

Smoke stung her eyes and burned her lungs. Its heat loomed, drawing ever neared, consuming all that lay in its path. She stumbled into the rocky creek with a great splash, savoring the cool water on her fever-hot skin. It soaked her legs as she loped through its shallows, growing nearer and nearer to the morning camp with every step. She felt alive, still racing the flames. For though the water had granted her safety, the fire could still have its prey.

After what seemed like an eternity, the creek opened up into the wide pool of the morning camp. Vaes Aenai was safe, and from there she sat upon her haunches in the shallows and watched the world fall into chaos around her.

The smoke hung thick in the air, blackening the sky and blotting out any light but thunder. The winds howled like so many wolves, a pack that raced across the earth and flattened the fields, chasing the fire before it. And soon a great column of clouds descended, the winds growing ever stronger. Trees were torn from the earth and flung, and soon the twister touched the earth, drawing the fire up into its center. And so Awazzi watched as the flames took to the sky, and in their flames she saw the face of the Golden Rhoa. In the shriek of the twister and the crackle of fire she heard her god's voice, and she knew what it said to her.

Azzaro was a long, long way away from Vaes Aenai when Rakharo's call rang sharply through the thick, humid air so he gazed in dismay at his surroundings and wallowed in his bad luck for a few seconds before he shook himself out of his reverie and blinked, tilting his head back warily to observe the sky. It was a queer shade of color, no longer the normal blue or even the gloomy grey. Now it looked as if dust had been kicked all over the former colors and though the aspiring Lajak was no Naturalist, he could see that something was wrong.

Azzaro tore his gaze away from the sky and quickened his pace into a full-blown run. His body was not like Zoratto's who was practically made for running; his was heavier, the result of his burliness but he was still rather quick for his size and made good progress as the sky continued darkening. He could only pray with all his heart that he was fast enough and would get out of this alive, as well as the whole Khalas. They were in some ways, his family, and if they died, he would die with them.

The tornado blocked his way to Vaes Aenai, causing Azzaro to glance around, a slight feeling of fear creeping up his spine. He scowled and shoved it away, reclaiming the eery sense of calmness once more; a Dotharan would not be afraid, not even in the face of death, fear did not belong with him. For once, Azzaro was glad that his brother, Raezho had vanished into god knows where, because now he had the hope that his adventurer of a brother would be safely gone from these wilds and therefore would not die because of this tornado.

Azzaro watched with a terrible sort of fascination as lightning struck and fiery, bright flames danced by the grass, devouring the land he called home. His paws were stuck to the ground, his head tilted upwards as a column of fire rose above the ground then faded abruptly into black smoke once more. He blinked, coughed roughly and came to his senses. Shit. What was he going to do now? There was no way out of this hellhole.