♦ -- Exodus was the first to spot Kirishama. Drawn by the scent of blood like a shark to crimson laced waters. Her sense of smell was a formidable thing, and her nostrils flared as she waddled forward on tiny limbs.

He had been left not too far from her family's nest. Her gait was all too eager; much too frenzied with the prospect of a larger meal. Kirishama had named her; she had wrapped her jaws around his leg once, when she was young and freshly born.

But the faces of those who were not of her pack did not mean anything to her.

She dipped under the folds of garangutan leaves and nearly tripped over fallen twigs and branches. The jungle sang wirh humidity and warmth, and the press of dirt underfoot was far more than comforting.

And there was blood. So much blood.

It soaked into the ground, the maned wolf lying limp and prone. She stepped around him cautiously at first; tasting the air and wondering who had done this to this alien. Would they come back for their prey?

But there was no other underlying scent other than hers, and his own.

Tensed, nostrils flexing with contemplation, Exodus juggled her options. To eat or not to eat?

She eventually made her decision. Should the attacker return, she would deal with them herself (Her mind was filled with grandiose thoughts, bold and haughty; believing she could take on the world. And that included on dominating any other predator that might come strolling by)

Maw agape, a tentative tongue came to lap at the blood that spilled forth from his leg like a spring of water. The wound was infected; written and unpleasant. Not good, but the salty tang of blood was more than enough to keep her satisfied; her stomach rumbled with hunger, and the striker attempted to clamp her jaws into the soft flesh and fur of his haunch. Testing if he was truly as near death as he seemed. Waiting to see if his reflexes would fail him. If anything, eating food would be made more difficult should she choose to feast with prey still addled with an ounce of fight left within them. She could not think of anything else; not of love or compassion, only a fiendish hunger and sense of triumph at her find.

// sjdjid have this shitty post and feel free to distract her or stop her from trying to eat him

Sometimes, it was easy for things to become awkward between Bakugou and others. He had never been very social, not particularly talkative either unless he was arguing with someone or trying to impose his cockiness. It was his time in The Typhoon that he realised it was very easy to fall into the backdrop, become one with the side characters which populated the island. If he didn't speak up, if he didn't make a name for himself, he'd become another one of those extras. No one wants to be forgotten, he thinks, not even him who supposedly cares very little about the opinions of others. He has a reputation and he intends to keep it, cling to it like the foolish boy he could be. An uncomfortable feeling begins to settle in his stomach. He's woken up not too long ago and still feels groggy. His tiredness is making him emotional and unpredictable, unable to make sense of the wandering thoughts which swim about his fuzzy head - a blur of words and memories.

He wonders if Kirishima felt awkward around him. He was beginning to let the reality of his past life dawn on him. Although he had vowed to look forward, become born anew, seeing his friend only brought back the times he had been a force to be reckoned with. And maybe, just maybe, he felt something inside of him whenever he saw Kirishima. He doesn't know how to name it but he could say it didn't feel particularly nice, it was more like an increasing weight which sat upon his chest, pulling him down harder than gravity itself. Yet it was the thought of his friend which brought fear to seep into his veins, cheeks growing hot when he smells the scent of blood intertwined with Kirishima's scent. Without thinking, based on a hero's instinct, he darts forward through the dense forest. He stops at moments, frantically looks about him, then continues moving. "KIRISHIMA?" the privateer roars. Bakugou's brain begins to spin when he sees the trail, smoke wheezing through his fiery maw. "FOR FUCK'S SAKE. KIRISHIMA?"

The pounding of his heart seems to slow down when he sees his classmate's injured form before zooming in on Exodus tasting the male's blood. Fury overcame him throwing a jet of fire in Exodus' direction. Of course, the flames themselves were not hot enough to cook or burn on impact but they were warm enough to hurt. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM," he yells, fur risen along his vertebral column. He knows this couldn't have been the raptor's doing. Otherwise the reptilian would likely have eaten Kirishima a long time before Bakugou had made it here considering the infected leg. He scrunches his nose. Bakugou doesn't know how to heal and it frustrates him that he's never learnt. "KIRISHIMA? CAN YOU HEAR ME? KIRISHIMA." He feels nauseous seeing the wounds covering the male who was a magnet to suffering, a magnet to injury and pain. The wounds in the tongue, the infected leg... disgusting, truly disgusting and vile. Unable to control himself he begins to attempt to shake the poor guy, his fire-coated tail becoming hotter and hotter by the minute and threatening to burn the entire forest.

As the sun began to rise, Luca decided that it was probably time for bed. He had been neglecting himself lately, desperate to stay up during the day despite his nocturnal nature and mingle with his clanmates. Almost no one stayed up during the night, and although that was when he was the sharpest, he had tried to fit in by forcing himself to sleep when the sun went down. Obviously it hadn't worked. The hellhound had resigned himself to his fate eventually, and took to watching over his clanmates as they slept instead. Luckily there was always at least one person awake, so at least he was never completely alone. He made it back home and collapsed onto the pile of pillows that he'd been using as a bed, curling up and tucking his face beneath a paw as the familiar warmth of sleep began to overcome him. He was exhausted, but at least it looked like he'd finally get a good days rest.

"KIRISHIMA?"

His ears pinned back against the gentle slope of his cranium, his tired eyes opening groggily at the sound of Bakugou's familiar voice. It was faint, the angry feline must be quite far away, but it was still loud enough to be distracting. Luca groaned and decided to ignore it, pulling a pillow over his sensitive ears. It was only when Bakugou's cries turned a little more concerning that Luca finally lifted his head. "Wha..?" Had he heard that correctly? Something like 'get away from him' and then asking if the red-eyed feline could hear him. It almost sounded like there had been another attack. Luca was out the door fairly quickly after that, curious as to what was going on. There had been a lot of attacks lately- it almost made him curious as to whether or not it was the same person behind them. He spread his wings, but it only too two lazy flaps for him to realise that he didn't have enough energy for flight. Instead he tucked the leathery appendages close to his body again, deciding that Kirishima could survive just a couple minutes longer.

They weren't hard to find thanks to Baugou's screaming and the fire that raged above his ass. Luca pinpointed them easily through the jungle and sped up a little, finally emerging through the foliage to stare upon the scene. Immediately it was an assault upon his senses. His ears pinned back against his head and his nose crinkled against the smell of blood, and the light coming off Bakugou's tail definitely didn't help Luca's eyes in finding where to look first. His fuchsia gaze flitted from Kirishima to his wounds to the raptor trying to eat him, and then they finally found the feline making all the noise. "Qu-quiet! Quiet down!" He said, right on the verge on a sensory overload and already regretting coming out to help. "I can't- I can't think with all your screaming," he said, casting one last concerned glance at Exodus before padding towards the victim of it all. The feline seemed to be in a pretty nasty state. Luca grimaced at the infected wound before inspecting the pierced tongue, a shiver crawling up his spine. He didn't know Kirishima well enough to try and take his wounds (he was still pretty selfish at heart, after all) so instead he decided to do the second best thing.

"I can't heal this, I'll get a medic," he half-lied, turning back to find someone that could help. Silas and Junji were injured, so he would make a beeline for Rosemary first.

[member=1130]rosemary roux[/member]

♦ -- The blood was warm and fresh in her mouth-- yet the prospect of being interrupted was infuriating beyond measure.

She heard and smelt Bakagou long before he appeared into view, as loud as his shouting was. his voice rang for miles around, and it irked the young one. Lifting her head from Kirishama's leg, tongue coiling over her lips to catch the rest of the crimson liquid, she considered his loud his presence was. Was he here to steal her prey? Laughable. No mere creature would challenge her to her rightful feast. first come, first serve. Annoyance was not a new emotion to the youth; And it made it's appearance once more.

Even before he had blown the fire her way, a bloodied maw had already peeled back. displaying yellowing teeth as a throaty snarl burbled from her chest and floated past her fangs.

The sudden burst of fire was unanticipated. She had seem fire before, but never in such close proximity, and never directed at her before. It took her off guard; could feel the heat upon her feathers, and let loose a shrill cry; one of unadulterated, bubbly rage and surprise.

Lucifer was her saving grace. sweeping her off her feet and into the soft jaws of mother. The dragon's presence was comforting, wholly welcome. Despite the fire that ran through her veins, as hot if not hotter than any real flame. The injustice of being targeted. Who was this fool that dare breath blasphemous hell breath in her direction?

Her vessel was quickly covered in a shroud of night; the soothing, sable hues of mother's wings. But her body still screamed for blood, and in a most child like manner, as any feral creature was as close as capable to emoting, she pouted.

When Luca came to grab her, the head soothsayer hardly batted an eye - a lot of people seemed struck down with various injuries, these days. With quick steps and her trusty satchel strapped to her shoulder, she headed over with the hellhound's guidance; though, as they drew closer, the stench of blood made the necessity of a guide less necessary.

Sitting down beside Kirishma, she pulled out one of her flasks of fresh water, opening it with her teeth before setting it down to lean against her discarded satchel. "Have you always had telepathic abilities?" she asked him, curious about the matter and trying to distract him from his pain by giving him questions to focus on. As her auxiliary pair of eyes concentrated on him, her main eyes looking at the empty flask. With a jerk of her right paw, she summoned the water out of its container and watched it swirl in the air before it aggressively ran over and through the hole in his leg - she needed to clean the damn thing before she stopped the bleeding, and she needed to do it quick. "Bakugou, once my water has left his leg, you need to apply fire to cauterize the wound," she spoke, her auxiliary eyes glancing to the male to watch his reaction while she kept the bulk of her concentration on manipulating the water.

If the male seemed to understand, she lift her paw in the air and pull the water back towards herself - giving Bakugou more than enough room to use his flames.

[ injuries? i'm assuming there's that big ol gaping wound in his leggie + head injury + tongue hole ]

© MADI

When Luca came, he didn't think anything would come out of it. He doesn't trust in the demon's capabilities and, even after Bakugou clamped his mouth shut, Luca proved himself to be useless to him. His eyes narrowed slightly at the creature's remark to go find the head soothsayer, quietly staying by Kirishima's side with an uncomfortable feeling forming at the base of his throat. He does his best to ignore Luciferus as he takes care of the child raptor, too agitated to pay attention to his surroundings until Rosemary appears, using some kind of water manipulation to clean the infected wound. He breathes uncomfortably when she suddenly speaks his name, smoke blaring from his nostrils. Fire. Cauterize the wound. Fuck. He's always wanted to learn something about healing but this wasn't the best of times for him, he wasn't in the right head space. He was just so...stressed. Still, with a feeling of dismay, he nods to the woman to notify her that he had understood.

This was the true test. He hasn't mastered his flames but the fire which wrapped around his tail was Bakugou's own method of training to control the heat and spread of his flames. It shouldn't burn, but it was warm to touch. At Rosemary's cue, raising her arm to draw the water away from Kirishima's wound, Bakugou raises his own limb with his pads facing the area. His paw began to burn, heating up before a ball of flame was unleashed to sear the skin. The privateer was careful, as careful as he could ever be, in ensuring he wouldn't accidentally further burn his friend. When it seemed like he had done enough, the flames ceased until only a black fog remained from his paw. He sighs hot air from his body's excess heat, still unable to control his aftereffects his powers had on his body and how much fire he was capable of producing.