01-19-2019, 06:35 PM
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"Please be careful," he said again, as his sister began to head down the beach, and he swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the heaviness somewhere between his throat and his chest. Pip began setting out some of his supplies, ones he could leave behind if they needed to evacuate quickly should the flames spread too far. He had bandages soaked in clean water and some aloe vera. It wasn't much, but if they were burned severely, he could only keep the burns from worsening while they were here- it'd be better for him to treat severe injuries in safety, away from the smoke and flames.
A dark shadow shrouded him for a very brief moment, and when he glanced up, he was startled to see a shape that hadn't been around for a while. Lucifer? He was a blessing, his wings allowing him to easily access blocked areas, and he watched him land at the source of a shout he'd heard. Good. They were able to help some people after all. Pip hoped they weren't too badly injured, but he would do all he could.
The young canine searched for his sister's form again, to make certain she was all right, but he caught her only for a second as she ventured into the jungle. The weight in his chest sunk deeper, and Pip scrambled after her, along the hot sand and into the trees. "Goldie?" He called, and he heard a thunderous crack that vibrated through his bones, kicking his heart into a fleeing-rabbit pace. Still, he ventured closer, because if Goldie were injured- he had to find her. But there was only Maisie, on the sand, and Pip rushed in, attempting to pull the younger raptor back.
And then the scream.
The heaviness fell into his gut. He was suddenly cold, then hot, and cold again, paralyzed, smoke stinging his eyes, polluting his lungs. The- the smell. It had smelled similarly when he'd gotten between Caesar's fireball and the stranger, but this was worse. It was thicker, and tears readily tumbled down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the soot. He couldn't make a sound, his breath trembling in his throat, and his body quivered, a bowstring pulled too taut. The fire rose higher, and there was no sign of Goldie. No sign of his sister.
He heard a sound- a pathetic hoarse, reedy, and scraped sound he couldn't recognize from his own mouth. He staggered backwards in a sudden lurch of a movement, still trying to bring Maisie with him, but there was hardly any strength in his legs, weakened like the boughs of the trees in the fire. Pip's body sagged down, more of those wretched little gasps wobbling off his tongue. The flames shook in front of him, edges blurred by the keeling tears building and spilling.
Pip pitched forward, staggering toward the wall of fire, trying to find her in the burning, but he knew he was breathing her in. He knew the scent of eaten fur and flesh was hers, that the scream was hers-
And it was his fault. "Goldie," he keened, barely drawing enough clean air to sob, each one shaking his shoulders and tightening his throat. Sorrysorrysorry. His heart branded the mantra into his ribs, and he felt it with each hitched breath.
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A dark shadow shrouded him for a very brief moment, and when he glanced up, he was startled to see a shape that hadn't been around for a while. Lucifer? He was a blessing, his wings allowing him to easily access blocked areas, and he watched him land at the source of a shout he'd heard. Good. They were able to help some people after all. Pip hoped they weren't too badly injured, but he would do all he could.
The young canine searched for his sister's form again, to make certain she was all right, but he caught her only for a second as she ventured into the jungle. The weight in his chest sunk deeper, and Pip scrambled after her, along the hot sand and into the trees. "Goldie?" He called, and he heard a thunderous crack that vibrated through his bones, kicking his heart into a fleeing-rabbit pace. Still, he ventured closer, because if Goldie were injured- he had to find her. But there was only Maisie, on the sand, and Pip rushed in, attempting to pull the younger raptor back.
And then the scream.
The heaviness fell into his gut. He was suddenly cold, then hot, and cold again, paralyzed, smoke stinging his eyes, polluting his lungs. The- the smell. It had smelled similarly when he'd gotten between Caesar's fireball and the stranger, but this was worse. It was thicker, and tears readily tumbled down his cheeks, leaving tracks in the soot. He couldn't make a sound, his breath trembling in his throat, and his body quivered, a bowstring pulled too taut. The fire rose higher, and there was no sign of Goldie. No sign of his sister.
He heard a sound- a pathetic hoarse, reedy, and scraped sound he couldn't recognize from his own mouth. He staggered backwards in a sudden lurch of a movement, still trying to bring Maisie with him, but there was hardly any strength in his legs, weakened like the boughs of the trees in the fire. Pip's body sagged down, more of those wretched little gasps wobbling off his tongue. The flames shook in front of him, edges blurred by the keeling tears building and spilling.
Pip pitched forward, staggering toward the wall of fire, trying to find her in the burning, but he knew he was breathing her in. He knew the scent of eaten fur and flesh was hers, that the scream was hers-
And it was his fault. "Goldie," he keened, barely drawing enough clean air to sob, each one shaking his shoulders and tightening his throat. Sorrysorrysorry. His heart branded the mantra into his ribs, and he felt it with each hitched breath.
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CAREFUL, SON — YOU GOT DREAMER'S PLANS