|
Escape From Manitou Island: Part 208 |
|
(DISCLAIMER: This part, and all parts hereafter, are works in progress (WIPs) and have not been proofread or checked for plot inconsistencies. I've decided to present them "as is" for now, as there is a significant amount of unfinished material; yet this story has been on hiatus for a long while, I've forgotten certain details, and I have no plans to resume work on it any time soon. Please keep in mind while reading that details may change in the future. Should you spot an inconsistency, however, please feel free to point it out to me for possible correction.)
POINTS OF VIEW A NEW CAMP had formed around the large bolt of glass protruding from the ground, and there was a little bit of chatter and murmuring, but not much. Night had fallen, and now dawn was coming, but nobody showed the slightest interest in sleep as their eyes kept roving toward the hole at the base of the glass bolt. Kenu sat directly beside this as if guarding it, every so often peering down within and then withdrawing with a sigh; the others alternated between talking a bit and then fiddling randomly with whatever objects were nearest. The atmosphere was tense, to say the least. "I hope she's doing all right," Thomas murmured to X'aaru and Mani, simply because they happened to be lying near him and he didn't feel too comfortable talking to most of the others. X'aaru replied with a snort and Thomas realized he was sleeping; Mani's ear flicked and he whistled. So far. No pain, at least. But could be unreliable. Whenever Red Land One returns to own place, connection with Mani is broken. Can't tell if the same here. "That's a lovely uncertainty," Thomas sighed. He glanced up when a small shape appeared in the sky and came flying their way, landing atop the glass bolt and with a poof changing into Marten. He waved his arms just as he had the other dozen or so times he'd returned from scouting. "Same thing, no change! Mekissaclam's still dragging himself along and Augyuck's still chasing him! More in ten!" He hopped into the air, changed into a bird, and went flying off again. "I'm getting rather tired of hearing him say that every bloody time he arrives," Lieutenant Barrington muttered. "No news is good news." This from Walks-On-The-Shore, who was on the side of the bolt opposite Kenu, standing on his hands with his feet balanced against it. He'd been that way for over an hour or so now. "Or so they say. Truthfully I've often found that no news is pretty bad news, especially if it means everyone in your camp has just been killed so of course there's nobody to spread any news, but in this situation..." Thomas ran a hand down his face. "All right, point taken. I hope she comes back in one piece if only so I can end up in some better company." He glanced up again, this time as Stick-In-The-Dirt arrived and sat down beside him, busily digging in a pouch. He pulled out the journal Charmian had given him and started sketching or writing something in it; feeling a pang, Thomas dug under his own shirt and pulled out the little pendant, opening it and looking at the tiny bit of ice and the tiny bit of stone.* His eyes stung a little. She never did give me whatever that other gift she mentioned was... "She will be back," Stick-In-The-Dirt said, not looking up from his work; Thomas looked at him and he added, "Because she has not given you your other gift yet."* Thomas felt his ears grow warm and put the necklace away. Stick-In-The-Dirt finished whatever he was writing and shut the book, beaming at him in a way that made him take pause. "Usually it's the man who gives a gift to the woman's family, but Charmian has always done things different. I've always meant to ask, but never got to. Do you plan to go back to her world? Because I doubt, as much as I hate to say it, that she plans to stay in ours." Thomas blinked and now felt his whole face grow warm. He decided to take the questions at face value and ignore their obvious subtext, not wanting to hurt the medicine man's feelings. "Well...I did try to go visit her place, the last time she left, but she insisted that I stay here--the Island, I mean--and wait for her to come back. I'd still like to get a look at what it's like over there, though. I get the feeling it might be a hassle for her if I follow her through." When Stick-In-The-Dirt looked puzzled he clarified, "She said something about her parents not wanting her to date just yet...ahm...to entertain male visitors." "Not wanting!" Stick-In-The-Dirt exclaimed in disbelief. "What sort of outlandish price are they asking for? I hate to say it, but your people are very strange." Thomas didn't get to object to that--not that he would have, as he couldn't think of a thing to say--as Stick-In-The-Dirt waved off toward the other side of the camp with a scoffing noise. "He is no different! See what I mean? I wonder how you people get anything done properly." Thomas furrowed his brow and turned to look toward where Stick-In-The-Dirt had waved. Barrington seemed to be the object of his attention. He too sat not far from the glass bolt, though a respectful distance from Walks-On-The-Shore and Kenu; he held something in his hand and kept looking up at the bolt, frowning, then looking down again. "Some time ago he asked for a few pages from Monsieur Francois's journal and for a charcoal to write with," Stick-In-The-Dirt said. "He's been making markings ever since. I think in a little bit I'll have to offer him a few pages of mine, if he keeps it up at this rate." "What is he writing?" Thomas asked. "I haven't an idea, as I doubt he would answer if I were to ask. But judging by how he's looking at that crystal bolt, I would say that's what he's making markings about. I've seen him doing it earlier as well. He was looking at the Animiki there, and at the demon and the manitou here, and the GeeBee, and I could swear he studies Marten every time he arrives." Portraits, Thomas thought, without actually having to think at all, and blinked in surprise. "He's taking notes on everything he sees," he said aloud. "That was my guess, as this is what Monsieur Francois did all the time when he first came to the Island, but as for why he would be doing that..." Stick-In-The-Dirt shrugged. "He did not strike me as the type. But who knows. I already said I find your sort rather strange, and he's the strangest of the bunch. Attacking people before you even know if they're a threat? Even those people in that inhospitable camp in the north weren't so brash." He shrugged and seemed to lose interest in the conversation, returning to his journal. Thomas stared at Barrington for a while, until at last the soldier yawned and set the pages aside, crossing his arms and sinking into his coat a little. After a few moments it became clear he was sleeping, as Kwemoo and Maang waddled over and snuggled close on both sides of him and he didn't even protest or hurl them into the fire as Thomas figured he would do if awake. He waited a moment longer to make sure, then pushed himself up and went over to them, stooping and snatching up the papers as he passed. Barrington didn't take his arm off, so he was surely asleep. Thomas went to sit beside Kenu, who gave him a curious look as he unfolded the papers and looked them over. Just as he'd thought, the drawing on top was of the glass bolt before them, but there were other little doodles and sketches around it--one was of Marten standing atop the bolt, another was of Marten flying off in bird form. There were notes jotted in the margins and between the drawings; Thomas had to squint to read them, but the one next to the drawings of Marten seemed to say, Little furry child w/ ability to transform; seems to utilize a special red* cap; some sort of illusory ability?--hallucination inducing? "Hallucination inducing?" Thomas said aloud, fighting down the urge to laugh. He turned the page over to find sketches of X'aaru and Mani and Pakwa with corresponding notes--Giant deformed or mutated wolf/wild dog of some sort; deformed or crossbred moose/elk; some sort of skeletal backwoods being, apparently unused to human contact & on verge of starvation. But under all of these notes had been written additional notes--Says is a "wolf demon" called "O-cricks"; manitou?; apparently a Wendigo or "Gee-bee." The other pages revealed similar drawings of others in their party, with similar confused or skeptical notes followed by more rational, explanatory notes; on the very bottom Thomas at last found a sketch of Charmian herself with a particularly wordy note. Apparently leader of the group. Has some inexplicable power of persuasion over them all. Get the feeling they all know her very well. Has the most infuriating mouth on her but seems to put up with an awful lot she shouldn't have to. Something had been scribbled out after this; Thomas tried but couldn't read it, so started to fold the papers up again, only to find one last tiny drawing on the back of this one. It was a landscape that he didn't recognize, but written underneath it was the simple word Home, and that told him more than a thousand other words could have. Interesting, that he writes that on the back of his drawing of Charmian... Thomas folded the papers as Kenu finished perusing them over his shoulder, then got up and returned them to their spot at Barrington's side. By now the loons had cuddled under his arms, heads tucked under their wings and Barrington holding on to them as if they were floats for the water; Thomas's mouth twitched and he retreated, not wanting to be too close whenever he should wake up to find himself in such a state. He took his seat back near X'aaru and Mani and sighed, staring at the glass bolt and willing Charmian to pop up from the ground like a gopher. We all must seem equally strange to each other...I had her there, and a lot of free time, to explain all these things to me, but he has to find it all out as he goes along. I imagine I'd be confused too. But I have to admit, he's taking it a lot better than I thought he would, if he's making drawings now instead of shooting off guns... What's taking you so long, Charmian...? He dropped his head into his hands and stared at the bolt until his eyes dragged shut, the scribbling sounds of Stick-In-The-Dirt's charcoal lulling him into a doze of his own. There was a tiny little niche in the back of the viewing cave. Turtle hadn't even noticed it before as the pile of furs blocked the view, but now that she knew it was there, she'd crammed herself into it, only the fur of the dead wolf to keep her company, and for what felt like days and days there she sat, hugging the stinking pelt and peering out at the vision wall. She barely even had to ask it to show her anything anymore. Every time something seemed to happen, there it appeared, as if the wall were trying to explain things and reassure her, and she was silently grateful for that, as the wolf itself wasn't very reassuring. Megissogwun's presence but utter lack of any action was what unnerved her the most. He too was present in the cave, crouching at the side--or more like slumped against the wall as if unable to stand--and breathing heavily but saying and doing nothing. He didn't even look up at the wall, and the fact that it so openly defied him didn't go unnoticed by Turtle, even if she couldn't properly understand what that meant. He didn't seem to care that it kept showing her what was going on without him asking it to. So Turtle merely sat in her tiny cavelet and watched as images of the strange landscape around them flashed by, interspersed with glimpses of the others so far away, and of the being currently attacking them from outside. "Come out, come out, come out!" a voice jeered from the wall. "Why are you hiding in there like a snail in its shell? I thought you were so big and powerful? Taking what's not yours as if it's your right? What happened to all that, I wonder? Who's slinking away with his tail between his legs now?" Something popped into sight in the vision and Turtle shivered to see the gangly green creature with the huge yellow eyes and pointed teeth and nasty grin. Even though he seemed to dislike Megissogwun, she didn't care for him much either. "Hello in there! Can you hear me or is your head stuck too far in the ground? Want me to clear your ears a little--?" Turtle knew to grasp the wolf skin tightly and shut her eyes. The entire cave shook and seemed to judder sideways; she would have gone rolling if the niche she were in weren't so tight. Megissogwun put out a hand to keep himself from tumbling across the room and at last lifted his head; he looked at the wall now, the landscape around them veering every which way, and his lip curled back a little in a scowl. "Maybe if you went out there and beat him up he'd leave you alone," Turtle suggested, "since that's what you do and all." "Shut up, you insignificant little brat." Turtle frowned and rubbed the wolf's head. He hadn't been quite that rude toward her before. "Come on out!" the voice called again. "I have so much power now! Don't you want to try to take it again? Hah? What's the matter? You're scared of me now--?" "Are you scared?" Turtle asked, genuinely curious. Megissogwun turned his head to look at her--even that motion seemed to pain him--and gave her a venomous glare that made her shrink back a bit. "I am not scared of that worthless piece of waste. You'd do well to learn how to choose which battles to pursue and which to sit out. I have better things to do than fool around with this trash." "Didn't stop you before." Turtle let out a tiny gasp and scrunched back as far as she could, which wasn't that far. Megissogwun had gotten up and trudged toward her, eyes glowing and teeth bared, but before he could reach the cavelet he halted abruptly and hunched over with a wheeze that made her glance up at him again, surprised. He slumped down onto one knee, hand to the wall for support, the other pressed to his middle; when he pulled this hand away, they both saw a shimmer of blue pass over his skin and then subside, and Turtle took in a breath and slowly sank behind the dead wolf, eyes wide. "Somebody's doing bad medicine on you!" She draped the wolf over herself so she couldn't be seen. "That's what you get for being so mean!" "This is what I get," Megissogwun panted weakly, "for dealing with humans." He pushed himself up again, turning and staggering toward the vision wall and striking it with his hand. It flashed and the fading image of the landscape outside vanished, replaced by an endless expanse of deep blue. Megissogwun slowly waved his hand as if to tell the image to move aside, and this it seemed to do, showing strange dark shapes in the midst of the blue, pinnacles and caves and uncertain forms Turtle couldn't have named if she'd tried. She at last saw tiny glowing specks appearing, first here and there, then with greater and greater frequency; her eyes grew again to make out the winding sinuous black shapes they belonged to, and she remembered the strange creature she'd seen in the wall earlier, the one that had wiggled its whiskers at her.* She craned her neck out of the hole to see them better. "There's so many," she breathed in awe. She'd overturned a dead squirrel once, just out of curiosity, and it had been squirming with what seemed to be thousands upon thousands of little white worms; the numbers of these creatures seemed hardly less impressive. They seemed to be as many as the stars in the sky, and for a moment the water went black with them. Megissogwun put his hand to the wall and shut his eyes. For a moment nothing happened, then the endless current of dark snaky shapes seemed to flicker as they all abruptly changed direction at once like a school of fish. Their glowing eyes turned toward the vision wall and even though the first such creature Turtle had met had been nice, she shivered and crept back into the cavelet, as the looks in these ones' eyes were much different. She felt that they would eat her up if given the chance. "You are on your way?" Megissogwun said aloud, speaking to the wall. "As quickly as you can move yourselves?" A strange voice came from the image; Turtle rubbed at her ear when she heard it. It was like a million voices whispering something at once. As quickly as we can move ourselves. Some of us come from far away, so it will take time. Others of us are near. They will not take long. All that remains is to reach there and do our worst. We wonder, do you wish us to wait until all have arrived? Or to attack as we please? "I do not have time to wait for all of you to drag your tails along," Megissogwun said. "Whoever reaches there first, attack first. I no longer care. Take it apart piece by piece, or all at once, however it gets done, get it done. You need not await any further signal or command from me." The green eyes of the dark snaky shapes glittered. Just the way we like it, the voices said, and as one they turned and continued on their way, slipping through the water as if they were part of it. The wall of black subsided, but others, individuals and small groups, trailed after, and Turtle could still see them passing by even as the vision faded and then resumed showing what was going on outside. The green gangly thing was cackling as he hurled gusts of wind and ice at the cave, which shuddered. "I suppose it is too much to hope that when that Island dies, he dies with it," Megissogwun muttered. "The Island ISN'T gonna die!" Turtle retorted from her hole, shaking a fist out at him. "Papa's told me stories. He said the Island's had all kinds of stuff happen to it but nobody's destroyed it ONCE! Well, once, but that was it, and that was so long ago it doesn't even count. So you don't stand a chance." "Has your 'papa' told you, you uncivilized little rodent, that I was the one who destroyed the Island that once? Seeing as I have been the only one to succeed so far, I think that speaks for itself." Turtle paled. "Well..." she stammered, trying to find her voice, "...still doesn't mean anything! You're too far away to do anything. They'll come and get me before then, just watch. And they'll stop those big worm thingies, too. You'll be dead long before that. What's it all for then, huh?" "I no longer care whether I live or die," Megissogwun said. "That time is past. I would have enjoyed seeing the looks on your friends' faces when they find their Island gone, but this is a small price to pay for success. My Lynxes will reach there far before me. I might end up killed, but it will be worth it in the end." His eyes narrowed to blue slits and Turtle shrank back again. "What is worth it for you, disgusting little mite? Refusing to shut your mouth when it's best for you? If and when I die, I fully intend to take this entire cave with me, and that includes you. Your papa cannot be saving both the Island and you at once so he will have to choose. Either way, he loses both, and you end up dead. Is all your prattling worth it in the end? Does insulting me somehow make the rest of your meaningless life meaningful?" Turtle's lip trembled, though she gave him the meanest glare she could muster. "Ah, I forget," Megissogwun said, slowly standing upright so she could see only up to his knees. "I am speaking to a child with the mental capacity of a woodlouse. I have better ways to make use of my time than waste it on such discussions, so enjoy yourself while you can. Perhaps my wall will show you some pretty pictures in the meantime." Turtle watched him walk away. She scowled and hugged the dead wolf, pressing her head to its own and blinking the sting from her eyes. "Even woodlice can think," she mumbled. "And hide when they have to, and curl up and stay alive! So I'm a little woodlouse. I bet I stay alive a lot longer than the big stupid moose stomping all over my log, 'cause a hunter's pointing an arrow right at him and not at me!" She gave a nod, then slipped the wolf skin over her head again as if to disappear from sight. Large clawed feet hit the ground, and Augwak stopped and crouched long enough to stretch his arms and neck, twisting his head almost all the way around before bounding into the air again. He stretched his legs, then curled up and did a flip, spreading out his arms and sailing back down toward the slight disturbance moving slowly along the ground far below. "Feh! This is hardly even entertaining anymore! If I didn't have such a grudge to settle with this lout I wouldn't even be bothering--dealing with something so trivial is an insult to the mighty Augwak!" He rolled his eyes and sighed gustily. "The things a great ogimah has to put up with! I do wonder though if the feasting will be good once this vermin is done with." He grinned from ear to ear at the thought and had to wipe drool away from his mouth, lashing out with his other hand and sending a gout of wind at the disturbance. He saw it tremble under the blow and felt a bit of annoyance. So far it was holding up pretty well, better than he'd thought it would. "Pah!" he snorted. "It's just me getting used to using my powers again. What do I expect getting all out of shape like that? At least I won't have to suffer such an indignity ever again. And when I eat his HEAD off," he called out, his voice rising to a shriek, "I'll just be even MORE powerful, and then NO ONE will ever dare cross me!! Not him, not those ingrates back home, not ANYONE!" He did a flip in the air, cackling, and hurled himself down at the disturbance. I bet she would still cross me. The tiny thought threw him off balance with its unexpectedness, and with a startled gasp he slammed into the disturbance himself, shoulder first. He grimaced at the feel of the strange medicine striking against him, jarring his bones; he bounced off of it and went sailing in the other direction, having to regain his senses and stop himself from slamming into the ground next. Instead he did a sort of one-handed cartwheel, bouncing back up into the air and shaking an angry fist at the disturbance as it sluggishly resumed moving eastward. "Vile thing! I might not know how to break you open just yet but rest assured that even if I can't pierce the skin, I can certainly bruise the fruit! And whenever I peel you out of there you'll be BLACK AND BLUE!" Another gust of wind shot from his hand and struck the disturbance; it slowed down and trembled again, the air rippling around it, then kept moving. Augwak barely noticed this as he felt a pang in his chest--he realized it was the same thing he'd felt when the strange thought from a moment ago had flickered through his mind--and froze where he was, blinking and confused. He looked down at himself; nothing had changed, but it felt like something was squeezing his heart--not painfully so, yet enough for him to notice and lose his breath for a second. What--? Has he learned some kind of new attack? My spirit! Is he going after it--? He pushed his feet against the air and retreated upwards somewhat, letting the disturbance make its way onward without him. He placed a hand to his chest as if to still the feeling; instead, the image of his spirit stone faded into view, and he stared at it, disbelieving that it was so bright. But...I don't understand! I want to kill this brute dead and tear off his limbs and gorge myself on them and laugh and dance all over his remains so why is my spirit looking like--like THIS? I thought this was supposed to happen only if I CARED about somebody else or did something NICE or some other such useless twaddle! Right now I'm only doing what I've always done my entire life! What's changed--? Why isn't it turning back--? He let out a frustrated growl between his teeth and struck his chest a few times, willing the stone to turn darker--by now it seemed to be almost evenly red* and black swirls--though of course nothing happened. He was distracted from this when he caught a flicker from the corner of his eye, and looked up to see that the disturbance indicating the hidden cave seemed to have picked up a bit of speed and was still drifting east. Instantly Augwak was piqued; grinding his teeth, he forgot about the spirit stone and sailed off after it, raising his hands to throw the biggest gust of wind he could muster. "You think to just crawl off without me? And leave me looking foolish yet again? What was it I just said? I can hardly wait to pick my teeth with slivers of your bones and decorate my cave with your innards! So this stupid thing is acting up--" he struck his chest and bared his teeth "--so what? It's nothing I can't deal with. Just an inconvenience. Easily dealt with once I'm done with YOU. And even if it ends up completely changing and taking me with it, well, at least I'll have had the satisfaction of finishing YOU off first!" He threw back his head and let out a shrill cackle. The wind struck the disturbance and actually iced it over so it was even more visible--it looked like a huge lumpy crystal now, trembling and wavering as if ready to break open--and Augwak took this opportunity to throw as many additional attacks at it as he could, targeting what looked to be its weak spots, dodging in circles around it as it trundled over the ground, hitting it over and over. Even his laughter seemed to wound it by now, and he got so caught up in assailing the traveling cave that he didn't even notice how brightly the red in his spirit stone started to pulse. Mishosha lowered the little wooden doll into his lap and lifted his head to look eastward, eyes narrowing. I hardly even have to do anything by now. Unbelievable how useful that gangling idiot can make himself, when he isn't even aware of how useful he's being. His eyes narrowed to mere slits as he tried sensing them more closely. Interesting, he thought, how he isn't even aware of why he's being useful. He opened up a pouch and tucked the medicine doll into it, cinching it shut and dusting his hands. He glanced at the group from which he sat apart a little ways. By now many of them were dozing, though a few still stayed alert, among them the other wabano, who stared intently at the hole near the glass bolt. Mishosha knew he would sense himself being watched immediately, and a second later the two of them were staring at each other. Mishosha's mouth twitched and he offered a wave; Moon Wolf didn't respond, simply kept his face neutral--although he was obviously guarding his thoughts, Mishosha could sense his hostility without even having to try--and then turned back to look toward the hole again. Mishosha settled back in his robes. There would always be time later to deal with him, that was, if they somehow managed to deal with this first, which he still rather doubted. I wouldn't care by now if I ended up torn into a million tiny pieces, as long as that wretch suffered the same fate. By now no price is too great to see him get what he deserves. "The most powerful manitou"...I'm more manitou in my little finger than he's ever been. His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer and one finger crept into the pouch to gouge at the little doll's chest; the Wendigo might be the one truly slowing him down, but Mishosha could at least make it a little more enjoyable. Doing things simply out of spite never served much purpose, yet it could be a pleasant distraction at times. He knew Makwaquae would have loved the chance to do such a thing herself. A sharp pang shot through him and his sneer abruptly died; he let the doll go and crossed his arms, staring blackly at the bolt. An Island, no Island, no matter either way. My obligation to him is fulfilled. My obligation here is almost fulfilled. After that, I haven't a clue, but I'll make sure every remaining moment he has is another moment he wishes was over. No one crosses us. No one crosses me. Just as he felt the first twinges of drowsiness descend over him, he felt something else, very far away, and this snapped him back awake immediately. His attention focused on the hole in the ground; a moment later, the wolf demon, slumbering near the manitou and the Wendigo boy, shot to his feet, bristling and growling, and then Moon Wolf was on his feet as well, hand raised and fire flickering around his fingers. "What is it?" This from the Wendigo boy; on seeing Moon Wolf move, he'd promptly gotten to his feet. The little Animiki seated near the bolt jumped up as well and hurried back toward the rest of the group, ducking behind Mani. "Something feels funny! Like my people, only--not like my people. What's going on?" The man in the red coat stood and peered down into the hole. "I don't see anything," he said skeptically, and frowned. "What is it we're supposed to be waiting for, anyway--?" The older of the two voyageurs went to look in the hole as well and stared at it in silence for a moment or two, making the man in red fidget. At last he lifted his head and looked to the rest of them. "If it's her," he said, "then I think it'd be best if we all moved back a ways. There's no telling how this is going to go." "Agreed," Moon Wolf said, turning and waving sharply. The others started retreating, shooting each other many confused looks, though a few of them, such as the nanandawi and the wolf demon, seemed to know more than the others about what was going on and retreated more hastily. Mishosha rolled his eyes as he stood. Cowards. "We should probably be prepared to attack, just in case," Francois said to Moon Wolf and Lieutenant Barrington as they stepped away from the bolt, the ogimah, Black Elk Horn, joining them. "It's not that I distrust Charmian's plans, merely that I've seen how that creature works. I'm certain Charmian would agree." "But what exactly is it that we're supposed to be attacking--?" Barrington asked, sounding perplexed. "A monster," Black Elk Horn snapped, earning another frown. "A creature that nearly destroyed our Island before, and will probably try again!" He looked ready to say something else, but refrained and scowled instead. Mishosha could easily guess at the complaints and tirades he'd intended to launch against the red-haired girl, as well as the reasons why he'd stopped himself from doing so. These people were a lot easier to read than they thought. "And that's what's supposed to help us right now," Barrington said, not quite as a question. He let out a gusty sigh and brought down his gun. "Why am I not surprised that girl would think up something like that?" This earned him a look from the ogimah that was even more obvious than all else. Mishosha sighed to himself. At least the red-haired girl seemed aware of how obvious she herself could be. This thought evaporated when he sensed something else to the north*, and he frowned and looked that way, trying to tell what it was. He noticed that Little Wind seemed to have picked up on it as well as he'd tossed his fireball into the air and watched it sail off. He mulled over just telling them what it was, or leaving them in the dark, when a small shape sailed into view and a bird landed atop the bolt, changing back into Marten, who waved his arms particularly strenuously and pointed north*. "GUYS! Megissomoron's still on the move, but that's not all of it. There's something coming from that way too--" You honestly think even all your medicine and weapons combined would be enough to fend off that creature when she gets here? a voice seemed to say from everywhere around them; they all glanced around themselves, except Mishosha, who knew what the voice was and rolled his eyes again that they could be so ignorant. You'd do better getting headed east--and preparing yourselves--because this is definitely going to get messy. |