UNDER WING . Wounded

[Whisper]

it starts with an injury, small - infinitesimal in comparison to the shrieks in the sky - proclaiming this land as claimed. this place is not him - but never has the animal had a place to claim beside the branch of a forgotten willow tree, a shade under the green leaves that crumble and fall away to the ground into nothing - as the summer warmth turn into cold brazen winters. There is no flying south for him, clutching into a branch and launching himself higher does not make the fall any less painful - the reminder that his days are numbered: his wings clipped

Captivity, cruelty, madness and insanity; wrapped into one pitiful, lonely soul.

they were called to it, in the desert - pale blue eyes flicker; a memory. The memory is stained red, the color of his own corpse bleeding slowly-sluggishly into the sands tinge his vision- blood, bleeding down black paws- blood, it's in the eyes. Innocent eyes, until you get a closer look. blood-

they were stained with blood

memory and reality bleed together, among the sands the crash is pitiful. Bloodstained feathers make a vivid color that drawls the buzzard to clear attention- seaguls- flap- fly away in mockery of them- of the hungry lost bleeding thing, without name. Of sentience given life through suffering, pain, through being eaten wholly and spat back out - changed. Different.

they wanted to die.

but death was painful - living was painful. There was no peace in either; they have learned. They wanted food, wanted freedom; but even free they have nothing, they lack purpose, and boredom is worse than slavery. Worse than death.

There are a great many things worse than death.

there is so much more; so many ways to regret - being free again.

the buzzard, lets out a low weak caw - a dying rasp as they struggle in the sands. Large wings shadowing across the sands of the beach under them - sand- sand. Beedy red eyes staring out into the world; scared, wounded - wings clipped and bleeding at the edges; hurt

hurt; please - help

[hushsound.]

HUSH SOUND

"Link... it's time to wake up."

The smell of blood in the air was unpleasant and made Hush's stomach flip over in his gut, a stark reminder of only a few days prior, when he had been forced to face his blood splattered over the claws of Kydobi and Noa. There's still a faint limb to his step as he walked through the sands of The Typhoon, a wince coming with every few steps. Kydobi had gotten him hard in the side, and the flesh was only just beginning to heal over underneath the bandages, the fire of Kydobi's paws somewhat managing to cauterize the wounds he had inflicted. It still hurt like hell, and Hush found himself wanting to just stay in curled up with Kilius most days since it had happened. Still, he had responsibilities around here if he wanted to be a hero people would be proud of – besides he wanted to keep making Goldie happy, like when she had given him a shoutout at the last meeting. He couldn't do that if he just hung around in his room with his boyfriend, which was why he was currently walking along the sandy beach, searching for a spot to fish at.

What he found instead of a fishing spot, however, was a bird. At first, he felt excited, thinking that perhaps he had come upon a weak piece of prey, but then he noticed the way that it moved. Struggling, tired, and obviously panicking with its eyes full of fear, clearly more than just some piece of prey. Hush hesitated in his approach for a moment before slowly getting closer, a paw outstretched to gently prod at the bird's shoulder. Normally he wouldn't have spoken out loud to a new person, but this time it felt like trying to write would ultimately be a lost cause, so he just mumbled softly in his rough voice, "Hello...? Hello, sir? Are you alright? Can you give me some sort of sign that you're alive...?" He then turned back towards camp, taking a deep breath before calling out loudly, "IDYLL! Idyll, we've got somebody injured here!" He wasn't sure how busy the sage was right now, what with the aftermath of the battle still lingering over the Typhoon, but he hoped that they could come and help out. Hush had no idea what to do to patch up the large bird, so if Idyll didn't come... well, perhaps he could give Alas some of his bandages? That didn't seem like the best idea to the Hero of the Wild, however.

[member=4460]idyllfields[/member] 

tags - penned by @stilly

[color=transparent]template by orion

[idyllfields]

idyllfields

stars did fall

the events of the battle had seemed to follow idyllfields well after its results. kydobi's threat, eclipse appearing, selby's attack, their... their own taste of battle with roy.

bandages still wrapped firmly around the sage's face though the chance of infection were low. idyll couldn't bear exposing their imperfect, scarred features. yet even though a majority of their crewmates bore their own wears of war, it came harder on the coyote. they weren't used to such carnage. especially inflicted upon themselves.

taking a stroll to collect what part of their stock, idyll conveniently came close to alas and hush, hearing the cats raspy, unused voice from a not-so-far distance. they rushed through the tangles of the jungle and into the beach, holding their breath as the salty spray of the ocean lashed at their face. there was a... a body. idyll wouldn't be surprised if it was already dead...

"okay, okay..." they took a deep breath, marching through the sand and remaining their focus on alas. they have never repaired the body of a bird before, but they couldn't imagine the anatomy much different from their own. "do not move it, i need to assess injuries before we can transport. hush, can you prepare some sort of gurney? i believe our friends just a tad too large for me to safely carry on my back."

they gently placed a paw over the birds throat, feeling the faintest of a pulse. the sand barely moved around its mouth, breathing was shallow. they dug out of their bag some damp cloths and began to clean the sand and muck from his wounds, clearing them for wrapping and securing until they could get him somewhere safer.

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[hushsound.]

HUSH SOUND

"Link... it's time to wake up."

The remnants of the battle laid heavy against the side of Hush's pelt, the large claw marks from Kydobi likely going to be a permanent scar on this body for as long as he remained in it. Still, he had gotten off lucky when he compared his own injuries to Idyll's. It still infuriated him that the sage had been attacked at all during the battle, but he couldn't go back in time and change it now. All he could do was ignore the bandaged up wounds on the other's face, giving a nod when he heard the sage's orders. He mumbles to them, his tail twitching anxiously behind him as he glanced at Alas, wondering if he would be alright in his current state, "Yeah... yeah, I can prepare some type of gurney. I'll... roll be back!" His voice was rough and unused as usual, but he didn't feel like trying to write out a response to Idyll while also worrying about the injured newcomer, the words just spilling from his mouth as he turned and bolted, his golden paws carrying him towards the tavern eagerly. He knew that there was a fabric inside the building, and he wasn't sure where they would have any actual gurneys, so he would have to make one himself from what he could find. Thankfully, ever since he had started trying to blacksmith, he had become a bit more resourceful, and he was pretty sure he could figure out something to carry the large bird.

Rushing inside the tavern, Hushsound ignored the confused and worried eyes that landed on him, moving into the back of the room and moving to grab one of the spare tablecloths. He then grabbed two of the wood rods that held up the tables most of the time, stretching the cloth between it and tying it tightly to make the makeshift carrier. He then grabbed the entire creation up in his jaws, rushing back to where Idyll and Alas were. He then laid the gurney out on the ground, an anxious shudder running through his body as he mumbled, sitting down and watching Idyll at work, "Here... here's the gurney you wanted. Or really, the best that I could make with what I could find. It should be able to hold him up, at least..." He wasn't sure how much a large bird like Alas would weigh, so he could only hope the tablecloth could hold the male up with he and Idyll on opposite sides to carry him.

tags - penned by @stilly

[color=transparent]template by orion

[Whisper]

They feel it now, crowded and hoarded together in a cage to small, their body pressed tight to the earth and they wanted nothing but to be free. Unnamed, sentience - this was their first thought between the sobbing of a pup that became their prisoner and the cries of all such gentle sin twisted and warped, into ruin, running and never looking back. Sinking deeper and deeper until they were all - thousnads of them drowning in a sea of red and they - their first thought - i want to be free.

freedom had a price, it seemed. Like a chain attached to their leg - it kept them grounded. Gravity holding them down to the earth where the buzzard's muscles couldn't fight against. Hushsound's voice a rasp sending jolts through the scavanger - gravel tones and clipped wings and

hurtpainpleasestop iwanttobefreeiwanttobefree

A coyote, was so similar to wolf

they wanted to scream - wanted away

but they asked for this, didn't they? for help?

The buzzard kept still when a paw pressed to their neck, a place that was almost pure white in comparison to the bird's bleeding wings. They were large - they knew, but they never felt so small then that moment.

( no, that wasn't entirely true either )

"Alas..." The buzzard weezed - sparking intelligence between bouts of savagrey - memmories of snapping teeth, of blood bleeding. The slow plucking of feathers of sheer's to close to their nerves and it - it hurt

but the pain was neccisary, wasn't it? after all, freedom had a price.

"Alas!" With one last shutter, the bird felt bandages wrap around them: wings. His wings were covered from the world, thanks to the lupine, a wolf - but not a wolf, scavenger, predator- predator

he was prey prey prey a scavenger too, wasn't he?

once?

The buzard - alas if you named the creature after the only word it screamed; Alas was light, and submitted to the administrations of the resident medic. From the corner of it's eyes it watched as the same feline return with a cloth and wood - some sort of carrying device, the bird struggled to stand - wings spreading wide even bandaged - attempting to get up and woble closer - they knew now, that the two where there to help - even afraid, they wanted the help