//long mobile post, the only important paragraphs are the ones after the word “FUCK”

The scary part was that the crunch was entirely audible, the fracture of bone reverberated throughout the environment. White hot pain seared like a candle throughout his rear leg prompting him to scream in pain just as loudly as ever. If there was two things he knew in the whole ordeal, it was this gator or him, and that this specific gator was one mean son of a bitch.

...

He needed to think. Just a while ago he joined here, to a mixed reception. There was those who disliked him, and there was those that could tolerate him. He had a business deal with Aya, and he had recently been promoted to Chaser. Not bad for a first week and a half, eh?

For Leroy, there was a lot to ponder on right now. He despised pondering, as when he pondered, he roamed, as when he roamed, he got lost. But right now, he truly felt that he needed to think.

First off, there was his loyalty. Since before day one, he had planned to use Tanglewood as a base of operations for dark intentions. Unsympathetic and cold, extortion was supposed to help him take control of the marshlands, having an iron fist over all that lived here, hopefully expanding to the other clans as well. As of now, he was aiming for the total opposite; Tanglewood was his family, whether his family whether they liked or not. What caused a change in heart wasn’t exactly known. He hadn’t been in a group with others before. His parents left him, his siblings were gone, thus it was up to only him that he made it through life. He was meant to be a loner, so he was for the longest time. This whole “we-look-out-for-each-other” dynamic was likely what drew him away from his goals, and he was glad.

Secondly, he was focused on his future. As a Chaser, he was dollars to donuts that moving forward rank-wise was on the horizon. If that happened, there would be no room for any antics at all. The clan would have to be his everything, no messing around anywhere else, like he had planned. There was also Aya, who needed body parts. He didn’t think about how he’d-

"FUCK!"

Lucky for him, his uneasy instincts allowed him to pull his leg away to avoid the loss of a limb. Unlucky for him, a fucking alligator had chowed down on his ankle. His joint was held in a vice in such a way he couldn’t rotate his body, or see anything going on behind him. However, he could feel a warm liquid trickling towards his haunches, followed by an insanely sharp sting. That wasn’t good.

Of course, the one time he decides to wander he ends up on the recieving end of a gator. This was it. This was his death. There was no way he’d escape the submission of a gator, whose jaws clamped together like one of those things that hold chip bags closed, where Leroy was the bag. He wasn’t going to go this easily, though; he still had a working hind leg, one that wasn’t drenched in blood. Thrashing it around wildly until all hope was lost, Leroy felt it collide with the reptile’s snout. The incredible grip was lost, and he immediately escaped with the few legs that worked. His ankle was completely shattered, there was no hope for it, unless he got medical attention fast.

There wasn’t any fleeing any time soon. The gator had regained its composure, and the thick muck made it near-impossible to run. It was then that the gator’s mouth fissured open, ready to snap. During this time, he had gotten ahold of his razor, which he chucked at the reptile. It missed awfully, but the attempt had confused the gator for long enough that he saw a chance to escape.

He stumbled past, yet he heard the sounds of a heavy reptile hot on his trail, and with a broken and bloodied ankle, it would be in no time at all when he was in the fiend’s mouth once more. 

Abathur's middle name was fast medical attention.

Not really, if you couldn't tell - he didn't really have a middle name. But it might as well be, since he specialised in emergency surgery and such. You had to, if you were a medic in these places. Nobody came to your office with a cold, they were either missing a leg or paralyzed from the waist down. Kind of ridiculous, how many serious, tragic accidents happened here, but it wasn't as ridiculous as a massive spider who was also coincidentally a surgeon.

Abathur was prepped as soon as he heard "FUCK" reverberating through the marsh despite its oppressive atmosphere, rushing towards the noise faster than he had ever moved in Tanglewood, though that momentum was noticeably stopped as soon as he saw the situation. Leroy, limping along with three legs, running away from an enraged alligator. Now he felt like the one that should curse - he was just a spider, he couldn't kill a goddamn alligator. The scales were too thick for his fangs, as far as he knew, even if those were long enough to cause massive brain damage to the average feline. This wasn't an average domestic cat, though, this was a goddamn enraged alligator, and Abathur was probably the stupidest healthcare professional ever, since his first instinct was to keep that momentum going and rush straight for the reptile. Which he did, for a moment, running up the reptile's side and trying to pierce its scales with his fangs, something that didn't quite work but could potentially slow it down. At least now the gator had paused to try and wrestle a foe that had already left.

The instinct to stop the alligator had faded now, and not dying while trying to wrangle an alligator was about as high a priority as making sure Leroy didn't. Medical service was hard to accomplish while moving, he had to admit, but it was better to assess the situation and see exactly how hurt the wolfdog was than it was to get injured trying to stop an opponent he wasn't big enough to fight, especially after confirming he wasn't strong enough to injure it. If he was his natural size, maybe, but... "Subject Leroy," the spider grumbled out, loud and clear, making a small hop off the alligator and speeding to the reformed canine's side, just barely avoiding a limb injury of his own. "How bad is injury?" That was his main question, and the only one he could really ask. If Leroy was allowed to be stationary, he could assess a lot more, even prepare some bandages or a splint, but Leroy was running from an alligator instead, an alligator that wasn't giving up for some reason, despite the fact that it had almost lost its prey and would be better lurking in the depths again. Maybe it would stop after they ran in a bit, but this was one crazy alligator already, so that seemed unlikely at best.

He was half tempted to shout for help, but from what he knew of clan life, that was pretty unnecessary. Someone else would be here very, very soon.

tags - "speech"

He had never thought in a million years that he’d be relieved to see that spider. Acting all hero-like, Abathur attacked the gator, briefly stunning it before checking on how Leroy’s aid. "I think ma’ ankle’s gone, but I can move on three legs," the mutt grimaced seriously. No trickery or sarcasm right now. The pain had dimmed quite a bit, though his claret’s flow hadn’t halted since the bite. Additionally, he had lost the ability of movement in a leg, that would prove difficult in this situation.

Even if that reptile lost his interest in Leroy, for whatever reason it didn’t, he wanted that thing dead. That fucker didn’t deserve to live, even if it was his own fault that he strolled into it’s predatory area. In fact, he actually needed to kill something for Aya, that he aimed to do, in defiance of his ankle’s injury. A glint off in the distance signified that his weapon was in practical range. Granted that he got that razor in the shifty paws of his, perhaps he could do some real damage. Probably not. Those things had backs that were like body armour. Though, if he got a gator part for his employer, she’d be ever-so-grateful.

That’s when Malphas came flying in, asking for the best of Abathur’s abilities. That meant the spider would bring him back to camp. Not happening. ”Save th’ fucking band-aids for lata’, I’m fine for right now” he’d insist, ”I want this fucka’ dead, regardless of ‘im bein’ a fuckin’ alligator”. As those two were medics, he understood that Malphas or Abathur weren’t going to have this, but he was not going to let anybody kill this thing without him.

Not Morgan. Not Ophelia.

The winged feline had urged the two to send Leroy to safety, and again, that wasn’t happening. It wasn’t as if his back was snapped in two, he could still hold his own, especially if it involved ending the miserable beasts’ life. This thing was, if anything, batty. Those creatures weren’t supposed to chase, as they just sat around all day waiting for food. Either this one was really hungry, or really vile, two good enough reasons to execute it.

Not waiting for a response, he attempted to hobble towards where he last was. He needed that razor. These things’ bellies looked softer than their rocky rears, surely that area would be easier to slice into?

If Malphas or Abathur were any eggheaded, they’d leave him be. Actually, it would be smarter to stop him, though he wouldn’t like it.

Okay, two more people here. One was who he presumed to be a somewhat competent doctor, though those skills had yet to be proven to him thus far, and the other was someone prepared to distract a massive reptile."Can handle patient, yes - focus on retrieving assistance. Time,
imperative." The arachnid was half tempted to say that he had worse before, but running from an alligator while someone had a limp and a serious lack of survival instincts would have to go down in his notes as one of the most ridiculous operations he had ever pulled off. They were a good bunch - maybea little idiotic, but as long as they were afraid around the beast he was fine with stupidity. Fear kept people alive, but the absence of fear made people a little more like Leroy here, whose actions in a couple seconds changed Abathur's own mission parameters faster than he could even consciously register. As the wolfdog rotating, yelling out some nonsense about band-aids, the spider would also change his direction, limbs digging deep into the mud to slow his momentum faster, turning to charge towards Leroy and perform the arachnid approximation of a tackle on the dog - the canine was bigger than him by a quite a bit, so the best he could accomplish was latching onto his functional hind leg and pull backwards, doing his best to assure Leroy did not in fact run face-first into the snapping maw of a creature somehow crazier than even him. "Band-aids do more to help live subject than subject murdered by alligator," he shouted at the absolute madlad, watching in dismay as the battle raged onwards, ever closer to the idiot he was trying to delay.

tags - "speech"