OOC- Oh yeah?! Well, well….

Moo.  😠

ooc: Foo? o_O

The shaman did not respond until he'd finished the chant. With a kind, and almost sad smile, he only replied, "I am the Messenger."

He sat back, and wiped his paws on a cloth. "The clay will protect the wound, and fall off when its healed. 'Til then, don't touch it. When Hazel returns, you can - " Crow flinched. "You can…"

Without warning, the small body suddenly stiffened, seized, and the eyes rolled back. With a sudden, constricted gasp for air, the Juska keeled onto his side, twitching. The air dragging through his lungs was hoarse and broken, as his limbs jerked, out of his control.

The last coherent thought he could muster before the rapid lights began to flash behind his eyes was only a humble, but annoyed, wish for better timing, next time.

--

Garreth shook his pelt of raindrops. At least they're not far. "I thought you were a river-dog, 'Sari," he reminded in amusement, sniffing the air. "Ain't this a river?" The blind weasel found the situation more than a little ironic. What wasn't funny, though, was that the rainfall was now too heavy to detect any scent trail. He would have to wholly rely on Hesari to know where they were.

With no sight, no smell, and hardly any sound over the downpour, the archer did know this: a sixth sense, perhaps, telling him that not only were their targets close, but that they themselves were not alone. Garreth trusted his gut…and as proven today, it was very rarely wrong.

Someone else was out there, watching them, watching them all. With no words to acknowledge this aloud to his partner, and probably alert the watcher that their presence was known, Garreth stayed silent, and easily drew an arrow and notched it to his bow. He hoped that Hesari would understand this reaction.

Be ready.

Hesari silently pushed the arrow tip down and turned to his companion. He mouthed the word Alive… and began skirting around a boulder. He twisted his spear shaft anxiously, pausing to listen for a moment before continuing on. He could feel the vermin right behind him follow his paw-steps.

This one is useful… He thought to himself. Most of the other Juska were blind followers, but only for those rich with authority. Otherwise, they were a bitter, spiteful clan. This one, he seemed different. The past couple days were the first time that he had really spent time around Gerreth, but the jury was in already. Gerreth… was a most impressive wilderness beast.

They perched themselves right above the stream, a small little leap into the water, but a decent hiding place... And waited.

"You left a trail like a falling boulder!"

Stupid vermin. Trying to sound discreet, but easily noisier than the forest. But there were a good half dozen or so. No way they could take them all alive... Hesari looked back towards his companion and nodded slowly.

"Oi, what do ya thinks we should do?"

The two lept down into the water and the otter bashed his spear into a very surprised rat's face. Before the creature fell back, he was already swinging the shaft towards another member of the troupe.

"Oi, what do ya thinks we should do?"

The archer had no time to respond. Garreth backed up the stream as Hesari engaged the invading fighters, but did not release the bowstring. The arrow and limbs strained against the yew rest as he held tight, slogging steadily and carefully against the swollen deluge. He could hear them now, as they broke from their stealthy cover; five…no, six or seven, ambushing now from all sides.

Flit! Flit!

The weasel's ear twitched, and he turned sideways to make himself a smaller target, tilted his head and listened to the deadly shafts zip a hairsbreadth past his face. At long last, Garreth raised his bow, in the direction of the last arrow, and released - and his aim found true between the eyes of a stoat, poised to stab Hesari from behind.

Once more, and again; he listened hard, aiming around Hesari's loudly-splashing location. He scowled as the next arrow he released at an oncoming foe flew too low, slippery from all the water - and though he missed getting hit in the face by the weasel's stone-club, the follow-up struck him hard in the ribs, bowling him over and effectively winding him.

( ooc - Posting at the request of RedPriest. Marillac to be joining as well. )

Every time she found rest, she got the urge they she needed to keep moving. She ignored that urge once before, and things ended badly. No more would she ignore her gut feelings. She was outnumbered, though the only good thing was that she knew that she was wanted alive. Sometimes, however, being wanted alive could be worse than being wanted dead. She knew as long as she lived, she would be hunted.

The female polecat was wet, cold, tired and hungry, but still she pressed on, wanting…needing to be as far away as possible. She knew he would not be stopping in the rain that plagued the lands, nor would she.

Eve did not see the boundary markers as she entered the territory, but as she got deeper in, she began to see signs of others in the hunting grounds. Prints in the mud, and mud being kicked up onto the tall grass. She weaved through the tall grass, wincing as she stepped on a broken piece of arrow that was half hidden in the mud and grass.

( ooc - hope that is good enough.  😛 )

Before any of the rest of the group could respond to Davidson?s question, the sounds of battle suddenly broke in over the pounding of the deluge. The group turned collectively in the direction of the noise, which happened to be coming in the same direction as their desired route. Davidson growled a low rumble like thunder in his chest. Coulton finally looked something other than calm, a little bit of worry entering into his face as he looked at the others responding to Davidson's thunder. They were all starting to reach for their various weapons, looks of determination, even excitement, beginning to form on their faces. Coulton quickly stepped between them and the stream, his feet squelching into the thick mud as he set them down firmly.
"Now hold on, we don't even know what is going on over there" he said, raising one paw palm outward toward them and jerking the thumb of his other paw towards the sounds, "Maybe we should wait and check out what is going on before we get involved?" The three vermin standing before him seemed determined to fight for a few seconds more, then Jacopo walked forward, shrugging his shoulders.
"Your probably right Coult" he said as he walked past the ferret. He stepped up to the tall grass and reeds that bordered the stream and cautiously peered through them. He quickly stepped away from the engorged stream once he had gotten a glance, his sharp eyes letting him pick out details fast. As he approached the others he gave a quick sketch of what he had seen. "Too much movin about for me to get a good number, but I'd say it looks like two on at least a half dozen." Jaecar looked slightly relieved, glad he hadn't barged into a lopsided fight, and Coulton nodded, feeling like he had proved his point. Dave, however, still looked ready for a fight, gripping his axe in his massive paws like he was trying to strangle the weapon. With a determined stride the giant, berserker rat walked towards the stream, the others watching him for a split second then rushing after him, Coulton mumbling something about an idiot as he slowly jogged after the others. Jaecar and Jacopo caught up to Dave and grabbed him by his massive arms before he could walk through the tall grass.
"Wo there, big guy" the Weasel cook said, "don't fight something that isn't yours to fight."
"Yeah, listen to Jay, we don't need you bargen into something and getting us all involved too," Jacopo added. Davidson looked down at the two of them, each one trying to hold onto a gargantuan arm of muscle, and then he started trudging forward, dragging the two like weights, until he was able to poke his head through the grass and see what was going on for himself. The first thing he noted was the combatants in the battle. They all appeared to be Juska, and he couldn't really tell the difference between the two groups, except that…
"I recognize one of them" Dave said, then almost immediately afterwards he shakes off his two companions with ease and rushes into the middle of the battle, his three comrades giving yells and staring helplessly as the giant rat charges into the larger of the two battling groups.

Drowning. He was drowning.

Garreth was almost positive that his ribs were broken beneath the boot of the burly stoat brutally stomping him into the mud. Every gasp for air brought a choking rush of water that quickly - but in his mind, so painfully slowly - drained him of any and all energy. Painful panic pounded in his ears amid the muffled shouts and war cries under the water. Was this it? Was he dying? Had he finally failed his chief?

The last thing that registered in his mind before unconsciousness took over, feeling his wrists being tied from a great distance, was a sudden change in the commotion of the fray. A rumbling of heavier and furious footsteps, multiple crashes and yowls of redefined chaos.

His stoat was kneeling in the downpour with short rope, binding the blind-beast's wrists, when the oncoming brick wall slammed him and his cohorts hard into the muddy stream. Another brave ferret, attempting to bind Hesari, did not quite make it out of the way, and howled where he fell, an arm snapped at a horrid angle. The other vermin, distracted, had no idea at first what had hit them, and scattered in their confusion, lashing out all around for the thing that had just broken their mob.

Another ferret that had managed to avoid the brutal collision, took one look at the massive rat charging up the stream and bolted, scrambling up the slippery ditch and into the woods with her heart in her throat. Almost immediately, she slammed head-first into another she-beast in the brush, bowling the both of them over. Seasons of reflexive training kicked in, and she pinned the polecat to the ground, dagger poised and fearsome tattoos warped into a fearsome snarl.

Hesari continued to lay sprawled facedown in the stream-bank mud, still able to breath, but only just. He didn't dare open his eyes, there was something sticky across his face. His forehead also hurt something fierce.

His mind was muddled by blood loss from the wound on his face and other areas of his body. He couldn't feel his leg, but perhaps he just couldn't focus enough. Like waves of sur-reality, things floated within his consciousness. A noise. A squeal of pain, in hindsight. Mud shifting around him. Some other beast was there. Or was it more.

He tried to move, but he saw flashes of pain, even behind his eyelids. His paws also felt bound. how did that happen?

The last thing he remembered, was several paws lifting him up. But one pair, carrying the brunt of the weight.

And then all was blank.

OOC- I have absolutely no idea what is going on (I… Thought... We WERE attacking Dusk's group...  ??? ), I will just play along with whatever you feel is best for this.

Moving through the tall and thick grasses, and the mud and muck that the heavy rains were creating, Eve found an opened to the grass. It was a pathway from one direction to another. It seemed to be a one way only trail for the grass around it was only bent one way.
The female polecat looked both ways, decided on which way to go. In the direction of the bent grass, or the opposite.
After a moment she began to move in the direction that the grass was pointing. Beasts obviously went in that direction. With any luck she could catch up, and ask for safe passage through. Little did she know she was traveling in the direction of the fight that was taking place in the water.

OOC- Pity. This topic had some serious stuff going for it.

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