Totoka River paranoia, paranoia, everybody's coming to get me

@Rokig

the sun is setting, and shell is a very cold, tired bird. he sticks close to the shoreline most of the time, but as the falling sun sets a fiery tint to the strands of water bleeding out over the sand, he feels compelled to follow the river inland on foot. his wings are sore, and he doesn't feel like dealing with the assholes near the water. and who knows, maybe he'll find something interesting.

Rokig had not been fruitful in his tracking today. It was part of the reason why he had slipped away to the mainland, although he did not go far. Just to the river that fed into the lands. He was rusty at hunting things on land so the sight of something hobbling along beckoned him forward.

His stocky form crouched close to the earth as he began to silently trail after it with the hopes that he might go back to Undersea with something to prove for his time gone today.

at first he's oblivious to the canine on his trail, mostly interested in pecking the ground here and there as he hops. it feels very different from the sand, enough to distract him. but dogs are loud and clumsy, and soon enough he becomes aware of the one following him. his feathers fluff up a little — but he's never been hunted in his life except by larger birds, so it doesn't occur to him that that's what is happening. instead, he thinks pffft, weirdo, and hops a little faster.

He halted when the feathered creature puffed up, catching him in the act of tracking him. Rokig was not searching to get scratched or pecked today. Or any day really. So he stayed patient and waited in his position for a bit.

Yet any hunter worth their claims would know if he waited too long the bird would get away. So he moves again, this time a little quicker in order to keep up with the scurrying bird.

and the weird-looking dog persists — maddening! shell considers taking off, but he's admittedly a little curious; what's going on here, exactly? has this dog never seen a bird before? is it delusional? or maybe it recognizes him from somewhere. whatever it is, he's not ready to flee just yet. he's been bored as hell all day, and he's definitely not going to pass up an opportunity to see something interesting. so he slows almost to a stop, resisting the urge to glance behind him.

It stopped.

Rokig knows it is now or never. If he attempted to get closer it would surely take off, wouldn't it? So he launched from his position with jaws spread in hopes to grab something. He would take anything at this point. A wing, leg, tail feathers. The Seawolf simply needs to get a good grasp on the bird so he can bring the small meal back to Undersea.

before he can even take another breath, the dog is launching itself toward him; he turns his head just in time to see it, feathers fluffing out and wings unfolding as the dog lunges for him. what the fuck, dude! he shrieks as jaws close over his outstretched wing, pulling back hard in an attempt to free himself. oh god, he's gonna die. this is how he's gonna die. owfuck, let go!

Rokig was already attempting to yank back in the opposite direction of the bird, wing in his mouth, when he heard it. It was not he usual shrill sound he is used to. He had expected cries of protest before silence but he had not expected —

"Owfuck, let go!"

His silver eyes went wide and while he had stopped his yanking, he still held a wing in his mouth. Only momentarily before he spit it out. He was absolutely speechless. This had to be a dream. So he stood and stared, slack-jawed and wide eyed.

the dog doesn't seem to listen at first, and shell feels a sickening crunch somewhere in his delicate wing. he shrieks again, wordlessly this time, as the large animal's grasp on him seems to slacken for a moment before releasing entirely. the injured bird flops to the ground without much grace, gasping at the pain in his wing.
what — was that for? he demands of the seemingly shocked dog, voice thick with pain; if birds could cry, he would definitely be sobbing. his wing fucking hurts. he doesn't know or even really care why the dumb dog looks so stunned; all he knows is that now he's really going to die.

He gasped, as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs prior to that. What was he supposed to say? Did this bird not get the memo of the food chain? Was Rokig's luck really so shitty as for him to be the one to explain this to a damn bird?

You're not supposed to do that. He hissed softly in response before his ears swept back in an apologetic way, the apology even spread to his gaze. I-I'm supposed to eat you. He explained awkwardly as he shifted his weight, crouching close to the earth. I mean, I'm not going to now. Which was probably cruel considering Rokig was positive he had broken the bird's wing.

the dog starts talking, but it doesn't make any sense. at least, not in his pain-addled state. what, he says, injured wing twitching. he can't tuck it against his body without unbearable pain, so he holds it out at an awkward angle, breathing hard. i- you- you dick! you broke my wing! he tries to sound angry, but it comes out shrill and panicked — fairly reflective of his current state.

He really really messed up and he's not sure there's any way to recover from this. He's not a medic, he couldn't even keep Lai— deep breath. Let's not go there, Rokig. Listen I'm sorry okay? He spoke a bit panicked even though he knows that won't fix the wing. We have medics back home. Maybe one of them can help heal your wing. You'd be safe there until you could fly again. Was that even possible? What if the bird just wanted to peck his eyes out? What if this bird died in his care too? Why was that thought making Rokig so anxious and on the verge of tears?

There were plenty of more questions floating in his mind but he had to simmer them down or he'd completely miss what the feathered creature was saying.