Eight hummed silently under her breath. Poor guy looked almost... lost. A lot of lost people came to their yard a lot. Or... what did the others call it. Border. ... What a strange description. She supposed it fit though.

  Eight skipped up to the lost, expertly prancing around all the traps and spikes buried in the dirt (seriously how did people not see them? They were right there! Shiny!). The octocat stayed a few feet behind. She's learned by now that she's not exactly normal... Everyone new sorta treated her as a deformed mutant. Apparently something like her wasn't supposed to exist. So... she kept her distance.

  ...

  She did offer Cherry a distant smile and wave though.

"SPEECH"

malphas was still sick and periodically vomiting from the whole eating-raw-and-rotten-feline meat that he tended to do for sick kicks. despite that, he decided he was going to go and patrol the borders because now if he needed to vomit he would be left alone.

he heard a soft, pitiful hello, and saw the horrible god-forsaken octopus girl. "sorry." he trotted over. "that you look like that, i mean," he clarified, then turned his attention to cherry.

"hey, you're tres-" he proceeded to vomit on the ground in front of him, making himself a fool in front of the girl he had insulted and the poor lost loner.

    Eight shivered as Malphas grew close. She snarled, her tiny fangs showing from between her lips. What the hell was his problem? She huffed, placing a paw over her chest. One of her tentacles covered her shoulder, hiding her face away from the male. Well. There was no reason to be rude!

  Shrugging the unnecesary insult off, she rolled her eyes, turning back to Cherrypaw. See. Appearance. Gross. Disgusting. She teared up slightly, biting her lips as her shoulders squared up. Unnatural. Horrible. She sighed, falling apart. Her eyes fell shut as she rested her chin on her open paws. Maybe she should just cut them off. Then she would be just a cat. Then she'd fit in.

  Eight tensed up as Malphas proceded to vomit all over himself. She took a few steps away from him, leaning away from the rotton soul in disgust. Eight whined, glaring at him. She rushed forward, pushing her head under the male's body where her tentacles clinged onto his skin. She forced her body up into a standing position, stared under Malphas's chest and locked onto the nearest bog. She gained a running start and proceeded to fling his entire form directly into the muddy water. Eight huffed, puffing out one of her cheeks. She sat up, dusting her forelegs off before returning to Cherry. She blinked nervously, flushing at her lack of control. She laughed nervously, turning her eyesight away.

  What? he was asking for it.

// Permission given ooc c:

"SPEECH"

Had Nayru sort of established herself as Malphas’ guardian angel? Well... she wouldn’t call it that, but the personal responsibility she felt for him was one that she was not familiar with. She behaved as if it were her job that he remained healthy (which, it was in a way) and had actually been drawn out from the shadows of her home and the promise of witchcraft to ensure that he hadn’t somehow spontaneously combusted yet.  She hasn’t heard what he had said but seeing Eight fling him into the bog caused some unnatural anger to rise in her chest, her cerulean-shaded eyes narrowing momentarily into slits.

[b][color=#6b7e99]”Did you just throw my recovering patient into the swamp?” She demanded quietly, tempering her rage the moment she realized that she was standing before a newcomer. Oh. That was a bit embarrassing. Turning to Cherry, Nayru would frown a bit. [color=#6b7e99]”Um,” She managed quietly, her cheeks red, [color=#6b7e99]”I’m Nayru... the Sawbone.”

With a sigh Morgan stepped out from behind Nayru, who he had been following on a whim. "Why?" he muttered to no one in particular, taking a quick breath to push Malphas above the surface of the bog on a pillar of ice. Two more pillars joined the first to form a wide ramp back down to dry land if needed. The samoyed approached Eight next, a look of fire in his obscured eyes. "We do not attack one of our own," he warned, his words firm and cold.

The dog turned to the newcomer, his curious expression hidden by his mask. "Malphas will be fine. Nayru can help him." He overheard the stranger's introduction, nodding to himself. Looking into the pink feline's eyes, he said, "Anyway, what are you doing here? Do you want to join Tanglewood? It's dangerous around here, but we're safe back in town." An old pro at greeting and inviting new Tanglers, he let the bottom of his mask melt to reveal a warm samoyed smile.