somebody please help me, Flame and any fielders - no limit on #'s |
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Smoke
Piña
Posts: 173
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Out of Character
Continued from this thread.
In Character
Smoke collapsed in the snow for what must have been the twentieth time just in the past five minutes. He was still having trouble getting air to his lungs. He sensed his windpipe still hadn;t opened properly from when Hawkspur had crushed it under his jaws. Smoke turned his shaking gray head behind him. He saw the red trail he'd been leaving and a single tear rolled out of his eye and into his fur. His chest hurt so much and he felt so weak and helpless. He'd never felt so alone. He stopped in snow as another tear rolled down his other cheek, he was losing the will to move. Then as he sniffed and snuffled, the scent of home caught his nostrils. He wasn't far from the fields.
He grimaced his face and screwed up his eyes as he reached up and shakily stood on all four paws. He groaned as he put the first one forward, but the thought of his den and Lemon at his side kept pushing at him from behind, willing him to go on. The scent got stronger and stronger until finally he knew he'd crossed the bordered. He smiled to himself, he'd made it. It was short lived though, he collapsed in a heap once more. Panting he lay there for a few seconds. Then finally determination crossed his features aiding him into one last effort to survive. He threw his head towards the sky and howled until his lungs were sore. Though it wasn't his usual howl. It quiver and quaked from the pain he was in. His head hit the floor once more and he waited, hoping a pack mate would arrive.
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WLC Jan Start 90
Lil' Happy Smoke drawn by Vexity
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Coyote
Ciruelo
Posts: 62
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Coyote to the rescuuuuueeeeee!!!!
Coyote was uncertain, at first, why the scent of blood struck him so uncannily eerie. Perhaps it was accompanied, shortly after, by a poignant howl ringing through the landscape.
Without thinking, Coyote launched himself forward full strength towards the distress becon. His tender leg proved a challenge, and though his desire was to lope in a ground-eating run like he used to, he sufficed with just a hobbled jog. Large paws collided with snow, crunching softly as he trekked ever closer to the scent and sound of a wolf in trouble, ears up and alert to guide him. Though it felt like forever, it didn't take Coyote long to get to his destination, the sight of Smoke quickly occupying the horizon.
It was just a lump in the snow, a trail of blood following the ice white footsteps leading into the distance. At first Coyote was concerned that this poor bag of fur had been trompsed upon on the homelands, yet quickly assessed that Smoke had crawled here with great diffaculty. He didn't know the fellow Fielder, but it didn't stop Coyote from approaching, tender nostrils inhaling his personal scent amongst the heavy tang of blood.
at last Coyote was by his side, head lowering to scan every inch of the ashe dusted male for signs of wound and destruction. He was shocked and disturbed at the violence, head snapping to Smoke's face with a harsh determination. "Who did this?!" His voice was strong and assertive, unwelcome to "hello" and "my name is..." bullshit that usually transpired between two wolves in meeting. This was far more pertinent.
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Flame
Uva
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Blood. He could smell it in the air, flitting across the currents like a dozen butterflies, assimilating themselves onto his olfactory nerves and triggering a response in his lupine brain. Blood. More importantly, it smelled familiar, as if he had encountered it somewhere before. It wasn't prey, because that smelled fresh and appetising. This scent on the other hand, left him incredulous. Not wanting to come to any conclusion, he gingerly followed it, walking on a seemingly invisible path, but glaringly evident to any creature as reliant on its nose as a wolf was.
With canine acuteness, he picked up a low howl, a pained call that disturbed the quiet, previously only broken by the crunch-crunch of ice crystals beneath his paws. Flame recognised the voice immediately, and his stomach twisted itself into knots accordingly. Smoke. Why was he calling? Well, he wasn't actually calling him, so he could just pretend he didn't hear the appeal for help and slink away and hide until Smoke went away... but something urged him forward. It wasn't guilt. No, Flame would never feel guilty for leaving their pack. How could he, when he didn't think it wrong in the first place? He was only acting in his best interests, after all. What he felt was something akin to... well maybe not concern, but something more like curiosity. So what trouble was Smoke in now?
When Flame arrived at the scene, what he saw first was his brother, lying prone on the ground, a trail of pink behind him, telling everyone from which way he had come. A mottled male was at his side, busily probing Smoke, assessing his injuries. Objectively, it looked bad, and the travelled wolf that Flame was could instantly tell that his brother was having trouble breathing, from the way his breaths sounded shaky and uneven.
Narrowing his eyes, he remained where he was, a few feet away from the injured wolf. "You'd better roll him on his side," he said at length, speaking to the attendant wolf in clipped tones, "or he might not have the strength to breathe for long." Flame had seen most of it before. When one wandered the lands, major fights were inevitable, and sooner or later, one learned how to heal most of the cuts and bruises that came along with those scuffles.
Keeping silent and aloof, he watched the other as he went about his examinations. He wanted to leave, so that he didn't need to see his brother's broken body, but he couldn't, so there he stood.
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Fawn
Sandía
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Fawn was closer to Smoke than the others, but because of her limp she arrived a little too late. Seeing her cousin bloody and collapsed on the ground, the hybrid rushed forward and began to coddle him slightly. She followed the dark male's words and rolled Smoke onto his side, but before she could take any other orders, she whispered something into his ear. "I'm going to put my teeth around your throat, okay? Just relax.." she then placed her mouth over his throat, her teeth clamping down only slightly. With one movement, she pulled backwards and heard his windpipe realign itself. Hopefully he would realize it and begin to breath.
She removed herself from her cousins' neck and sat down, looking at the other two. "Do we know who did this?" her eyes were tough and inquisitive, hard and ready to take any action to save Smoke. As she cleaned her maw with her paw, wiping the blood off of her fur, her eyes were boring into the two males nearest. She could see Smoke out of the side of her eyes, watching him as he struggled to regain himself. Whoever had done this, they were not going to get away with it. Fawn smelled that bastard -- what was his name? -- that had attacked her after she had collapsed after that fight with Cochise.
wlc jan. → 174 avatar by lemon.  |
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Lemon
Manzana
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The cry had come. Smoke was close! Lemon was off like a shot, excited to see his mate but suddenly troubled in a very deep way. That sound... There was pain in that call, a quavering, shaking note that felt like he’d barely been able to hold onto it long. He prayed to whoever would listen that nothing bad had happened, that his silver prince was okay and he was playing a mean trick, or it was just an accidentally peculiar call. The blonde male could feel his guts clenching up inside, twisting themselves into knots of anxiety as his thin legs carried his similarly figured frame swiftly across a vast, flat plain of snow. Many scents reached him on the next wind, a scent he didn’t know, the smell of his lovely cousin Fawn, a scent that was similar (but not quite) Smoke’s, Smoke, and… blood. He knew whose blood that was.
Lemon pushed until he thought his chest would burst. Yellow optics could spy the scene ahead in slow motion like a nightmare. He called out in a timbre that was not his own, such a desperate, scared voice that he never knew he even possessed it. “Smoke! SMOKE!” He skidded to an early stop, tears streaming down his eyes to wet the fur of his muzzle and cheeks. Lemon did not dare get too close. Of course he wanted to touch him, to nuzzle him, but was afraid to cause more damage; he could see his crushed windpipe and that his sides were barely heaving. “Oh, Smoke… Smoke, I’m here! I’m right here. You’re going to be okay… Fawn.” He turned to her, and the look in his eyes was so intense it might’ve struck another animal dead. “What happened? Who did this?" He scrutinized her face, and then turned back to his love, leaning in as close as possible, voice barely a whisper. “Smoke, you're going to be okay. Just breathe, baby. Breathe!”
This post has been edited by Lemon on Jan. 16, 2007 - 8:52am
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Smoke
Piña
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Out of Character
Awww he's so loved - Coyote needs a cape lol
In Character
With his howl traied off and his energy drained, all he could do now was wait for a good samaritan to come along and help him. Whist he waited he listened to his own breathing and wheezing. He knew he ws in a bad state. Even though Hawkspur hadn't meant to kill him on the spot, there was still a good chance he could die here from a twisted windpipe. Finally he heard paws in the snow padding around then a wolf who's gaze he idn't know,met his own. "Who did this?!" He lifted his gray head slightly and just managed to choke out one word, yet no explaination. "H...Haw...Hawkspur." He couged and his head hit the floor again.
Another set of pawprints now joined the males and a voice he recognised rang out of the semi dark haze around him. "You'd better roll him on his side, or he might not have the strength to breathe for long." Flame? Was it possible he really did care? Or was this some new punishment he'd cooked up for Smoke? There would be time to ponder that later though. Right now Smoke had to consentrate on staying awake and breathing. He inhaled deeply though his nose, trying to get as much oxyen down to his lungs as possible. It was then he caught the scent, Fawn was coming. Smoke coughed with excitement at the arrive of his cousin, and attepted a half smile when she whispered in his ear. "I'm going to put my teeth around your throat, okay? Just relax.."
He let his body fall even more limp a Fawn took a gentle hold on his throat, her teeth wrapped kindly around his windpipe. Then suddly it hit him, the sudden pain. He thought he might be sick from it. He wailed out as his windpipe was popped back into place by his cousin. His vision blurred and he started to go delerious. "Lemon, Lemon, are you there baby? Where are you Lemon, where are you? PLEASE, BABY, PLEASE!" He screamed out afte Fawn enquired as to who this attack was carried out by.
“Smoke! SMOKE!” The peppered male's screaming and delusions stopped as he smelt his mate, smelt the comfort he provided. “Oh, Smoke… Smoke, I’m here! I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. Lmong turned to Fawn, demanding to know how his mate was in this state. Smoke heard him whisper as he waited for an answer. “Smoke, you're going to be okay. Just breathe, baby. Breathe!” For th first time, Smoke felt a real rush of cold winter air flow all the way into his lung resoring some life to his bedraggled form. H exhaled quickly then took another deep breath in. "Please Lemon, don't leave me please, baby, don't go." He burst into tears, creating tiny rivers in his silky fur.
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WLC Jan Start 90
Lil' Happy Smoke drawn by Vexity
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Coyote
Ciruelo
Posts: 62
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Poor Smoke. I had a horse named Smoke. :( He reminds me of this Smoke. Anyways...
Coyote's face was stricken with worry and keenly attuned to Smoke's gasping reply. It came out in a heave and with a bitter taste that even Coyote could sense. Hawkspur. The name rolled into his head like a black void. It didn't sound familiar but it was something Coyote would remember for the rest of his life. A paw stepped forward to help this male, to lift his head a little and offer him some fresh air so as not to be smothered any longer by the snow... Yet somewhat cruel words made him hesitate, attention whirling to land on the form of Flame. Ears swiveled atop his head, catching the demand to roll him on his side. He didn't hesitate in complying, for all Coyote knew, this male could be the medic.
Just as a sturdy paw swept forth to roll Smoke over, another voice cut into his sonars and a female brushed him aside with not even a second thought. Coyote, overwhelmed, side stepped to allow her entrance to the little Smoke circle that had started. Without any greeting to Coyote, she had pushed Smoke to his side and then proceeded, in Coyote's eyes, to strangle him further. Smoke cried in pain, causing shock to scribble across his features . What the hell was going on here?! Rather upset at this point, Coyote's face turned into a scowl and as he attempted to open his mouth and reply to Fawn, another voice cut into his sonars once again.
This time it was panic that rang in the air. Lemon came flying onto the scene like a buff colored rocket, sweeping to Smoke's side and invading Coyote's little personal bubble as Fawn had. Coyote's frown seemed to sag, ears flopping to either side of his head, defeated.
The hell was he thinking to come to this wolf's rescue? With a small shuffle of paws, he backed away from the gathering, and promply seated himself a few paces away. He just sat, ears poignantly poised atop his cranium and shoulders rigid with irritation. He didn't allow the emotion to betray his visage, however, nor did it play heavily on his stature but someone who knew Coyote well could probably read him just fine.
"Who did this?" The question came from Lemon, the newest in the fray. Without even a lick of hesitation, Coyote's voice rang strong and loud across the buzz of questions, "Hawkspur..." The tone was somber, and Coy's gaze was locked on that of Lemon's. He merely stated it before anyone else had the chance to further prevent someone else from stealing his "thunder". Yet he did it for Smoke as well, considering the male probably didn't want to spend the rest of the evening hashing out the same details and new visitors kept popping up from the woodwork. A hush fell across the brown textured male then, amber gaze keenly set on the obvious counterpart of the fallen as though awaiting instructions. Smoke was his responsability, afterall. It should be Lemon who decided his own mate's outcome and what was to be done towards the rogue who'd done this to him.
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Flame
Uva
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| Out of Character Terribly sorry for the length. T_T In Character
Just as the words were leaving his mouth, a wolf hybrid shot onto the scene. Flame could see clearly why she had taken a little more time than the other two to arrive: a limp rendered her gait awkward, markedly slowing her progress in the snow. Although his instructions had been directed to the cinnamon male, it appeared that this new arrival was in more of a frenzy than Smoke himself seemed to be, and upon hearing his words, she acted immediately. Under ordinary circumstances, Flame would have demanded why a patient was being treated so roughly (the carelessness with which she rolled Smoke over almost made him cringe in pain), but it seemed to do the trick anyway, and to hell with his brother's comfort. What mattered was that he get some air into his lungs right now. Besides, Flame had a feeling that the less he spoke, the better.
Just as the bi-coloured femme began to fawn over the injured grey, Smoke began to convulse. Flame wasn't the least bit surprised, seeing how unprofessionally the female had tried to realign his windpipe. If the situation wasn't more serious, the dark male would have rolled his eyes. Amidst Smoke's fevered thrashing, he began to call out, voice strained and wailing, Lemon, Lemon, are you there baby? Where are you Lemon, where are you? PLEASE, BABY, PLEASE! Baby? Flame blinked. Sweeping his orange orbs around the area where they stood, he did not see any puppies in the snow. Must've been the pain. Hmm.
Almost as soon as Smoke had called, another wolf appeared on the scene, if possible, more frantic than his predecessor had been. His piercing yellow eyes were visibly shot with worry as he ran over to the prone form lying inertly in the snow, crying out for all to hear in a choked, desperate voice. Turning to the female — whose name, Flame found out, was Fawn — he demanded to know who had done this. Then barely above a whisper, he said, Smoke, you're going to be okay. Just breathe, baby. Breathe! Oops, was that something private? Pardon my excellent hearing.
Earlier on in answer to Fawn's question, what sounded like two words escaped his injured brother's lips, whispered like a secret, but it wasn't until now that Flame had figured out that it was a name. Hawkspur. Quickly, he assimilated the facts: Hawkspur was a wolf. A wolf that Smoke had gotten into a fight with. No prizes for guessing who won, he supposed, his eyes working over his brother's broken body. Briefly, he thought back to their conversation at the borders of the Fields, when Smoke had accused him of not being there when his parents had died. Would I be able to fulfil my duty now? wondered Flame absently.
All this while, Flame had been quietly observing the cinnamon wolf who had been first to arrive at the scene. As the situation progressed, he seemed to fade more and more into the background. Not physically, but emotionally. Flame did not know this wolf personally, and there weren't many clues as to what he might have been feeling, but if he were in this wolf's position, he would have felt offended himself. When Lemon Baby (although Flame could tell he was a full grown male) asked, anguished, who in the nine circles of hell had attempted to maul Smoke, he took the initiative to reply. Probably didn't want to be cast out of their little cosy circle and forgotten.
But there was the name again. Hawkspur. Narrowing those eyes of his, blazing like coals even in this winter, Flame wondered who he was. What this fight was all about. And where he could find him.
Discovering his brother injured so soon after he had just been... reunited with him (oh how he loathed to use that word), was a surprise, to say the least. Just a few days ago, he had been taunting him with how "hale and hearty" he appeared, and now, well, it turned out to be entirely untrue. His practised eye told him that Smoke would need a lot of help to get through this, and even then, it will be unlikely that he will emerge unscathed. If anyone were to ask him how he felt at this juncture, Flame wouldn't know what to say. Most of him wanted to grit his teeth and yell a loud, childish, Serve him right! but a part of him just wanted Smoke to get better so that he could shout at him again with no remorse. Oh well, that wasn't what he was supposed to feel either, was it? He was supposed to act like Fawn and Lemon Baby, going ballistic at the sight of his brother's blood and prancing about his side like a pair of errant ballet school teachers.
It'd do him good to have some water. And to move him back to his den. Flame kept his words simple. There wasn't much need to say anything on his part. It wasn't as if Smoke would appreciate anything he did anyway. Best to stay as detached as possible.
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