faderift | ( closed ) the wild dogs cry out in the night

"Wait, wait, is... and they're gone already." Cosima is deeply unsure that running toward the unnerving sound is really the best plan of action. This, she thinks to herself, is why she's a microbiologist.

Of course, now she's left with the choice of "stay with the people most likely to be useful in a fight" or "stay farther away from whatever was making that noise."

She splits the difference and sets off after them... carefully. Not running.

"They're what?"

Val was reading. His portion of the camp was set up with quick and practiced efficiency. He is well-traveled, and well-supplied with personal equipment that is, by turns, both finer and shabbier than equipment provided by the Inquisition. There is no waiting in line at the general storeroom of supplies for Val. Furthermore: shabby, in this case, refers to the well-worn look of his things. This is a man who has traveled, who has lived off the land and cheerfully eaten insects and shat in the woods and--

Which, speaking of shit: Shit, Val thinks, now, and snaps closed the slim volume of poetry through which he was reading. (Bloody Ilde Sauvageon. He will never be rid of her.) He cannot be left behind when there is a noise in the forest.

Quickly, he overtakes Cosima, who is not running. The slope that he must slide down requires him to shove his satchel over his shoulder more firmly, and concludes gracefully, without Val tumbling arse-over-elbows into the underbrush. He's off after Alex and Newt, trying to catch up with their head start and listening intently to the sounds of the Arbor Wilds.

As she descends the slope Alex partway trips, falls into a somewhat controlled roll, rights herself and is able to somehow resume momentum at the bottom, although now with leaves sticking to her hair. At the bottom of the slope there is a ravine, of sorts, and the pained bellowing seems to come from within, echoing along the sheer, rocky walls. The area is misty, moss climbs the rocks, and the base of the ravine seems about wide enough at the entrance that a few people could work shoulder to shoulder, but it wouldn't necessarily be comfortable. A stream quietly bubbles near their feet, and she looks over her shoulder to the others.

"Follow the creek," she calls back to the others, continuing to walk along the bed of stones and mud, water running over her boots.

Newt picks up his pace soon after Alex does, not wanting to lose sight of her. There's something exhilarating about running so heedlessly through the wilderness like this, he thinks. Yes, there is likely something dangerous up ahead but it's worth it by itself to be able to give chase like this.

He sees Alex stumble and fall, and moves to help when she rights herself. It's an impressive move, and one he'll have to ask her to teach him when he next gets the chance.

"Alright, Alex?" He calls out, though. Just in case.

He nods at her direction, taking care to keep track of the slippery shores they now find themselves on.

It's as he's looking down and trying to watch where he goes that he slips and falls face first into the muck.

"Merlin's Beard!" He mumbles, proceeding to literally eat dirt. But he picks himself up just as quickly, and, truth be told, he doesn't hate the way the muck all over him makes him feel so alive.

The bellowing seems to grow louder as they move closer.

"What do you think it is?" He calls out, unsure of who might be able to hear them.

At least it's not like they're hard to follow, between their hurried passage through the underbrush and the shouting and the bellowing they're running toward. Cosima, however, is reluctant to go down into the ravine on purpose once she reaches it, somewhat concerned about getting out again. So she follows the creek from the edge of the slope as best she can, hoping she can either throw a rope or find a less forbidding way down.

"Oh, it could be nearly anything!"

As he arrives on the scene, Val doesn't offer Newt a hand up from the mud. In fact, he moves past him with boldness. It's every man for himself, doubly true if there is some creature to be observed in the brush ahead of them. He must see it. The Arbor Wilds is alive and, well, wild around them, and the thrill of discovery and observation is nearly singing in Val.

"And I do mean nearly anything. The Arbor Wilds, you see, it is a large unknown. There are creatures that dwell here that do not dwell anywhere else. Some might have been glimpsed but never properly categorized, or studied, or--" Wait. He glances back and counts them up. Newt, Alex... Val, obviously... "Are we not one more? Where is Cosima?"

Maker's breath, if she arrives first, and sees this creature, Val will never forgive her.

Alex looks over her shoulder at the question, and just offers a thumbs up and a grin. A slightly ridiculous grin, more bright than makes sense given they are running towards something very loud and distressed, but she can't help herself and her adrenaline problems.

"If it's a new species, we better hop to it right quick. Don't sound like it's havin' a great time of it."

She hangs back for a moment, keeping an eye out for Cosima, before the distressed bellow comes again, and she makes a whups sound and starts running again, making a point not to look up the walls of the ravine. The echoes made it hard to gauge the distance, but it is not too long before she reaches the source of the noise; a massive bear, of some kind, though not like any she's seen before. Huge, with leathery skin that is mostly bare, saves for shaggy patches of dark fur around its jaw and throat, on its lower legs. Not all is well, though. The creature is trapped, the back half of its body caught in rocks and mud that look like they came loose and slid down the side of the ravine, and growls at the sight of her.

"Hey, now. We're gonna help you out, little one." ("Little one," the 5'2" woman said to the giant bear)

"A new species?!" Newt's eyes gleam and he outright beams, mud all over his face and stuck in his hair. He doesn't bemoan Val's lack of offer of assistance; indeed, he understands well the need to hurry in this moment to catch sight of a rare and possibly entirely new creature.

He breathes in deep, letting the pure, unadulterated nature seep deep into his lungs. If he has to be stuck here in Thedas, this is where he wants to be: wild, untamed, and free. He lets out a rush of laughter, sounding slightly mad, probably. And in this moment, he is glad to have the people around him that he does; he feels like, for once, he actually belongs.

He pauses to wait for Alex, and follows her once more when she picks up her pace again. His eyes widen as they come across the bear, a great giant beast of a creature unlike any bear Newt has ever seen.

Newt's eyes dart right to where the poor creature is trapped, and his heart sinks. He hopes they can help the bear. He nods, moving to stand beside Alex. When he speaks, it is as if he's speaking to any of the creatures in his care: calm and gentle, like a mother soothing her children.

"It's alright," he says. "Like she says, we're here to help. We won't hurt you."

He's trying to figure out the best way to approach. He doesn't want to alarm the creature, after all.

"I'm up... shit, is that a bear?"

She's caught up, more or less, but is a fair distance above them, as her hopes for an easier place to get down were ultimately in vain. She's trying not to shout, pitching her voice just enough to be heard (hopefully). Cosima is beginning to suspect she is with the wrong kind of scientists for her skill set.

(She wonders if Alex will be mad or flattered if she name-checks Steve Irwin later.)

"Do you guys need any supplies you don't have, or...?"

Oh, there is Cosima, catching up and not discovering a new species before Val. The calm that comes of that confirmation is contrasted with the thrill of running and the impending discovery, the dangerous echoing sound that calls them all onward--and then, the calm and the thrill both are very quickly undone when they come upon their quarry and Val realizes that no one is discovering a new species today, but that they have found--

"Les seins d'Andraste." Breathless, Val abruptly stops. "That is no mere bear! That is no new any thing! That is Woodsman's Death!"

"G'day," she says to the bear, and it makes a bellowing sound again. A glance to Newt, and she exhales. "We just need to have a chat to figure out how to help you, okay?"

That name Val mentioned isn't make this easier.
"Yeah," she calls back to Cosima and Val, trying not to sound, you know, stressed. "And I'm planning on getting them outta here. If you feel like helping, I'd appreciate it. If you don't, I ain't gonna blame you. But, uh— If anyone has ideas on how to shift some heavy looking rocks, I will buy you some fancy wine later."

Carefully, and perhaps against her own better judgment, she lays a hand on the bear's shoulder. Or, well, the upper part of its leg, because this thing is absurdly huge. The bear, shockingly, has not reacted badly to the touch. If anything, it seems to soothe it a little, and the next sound of it is a quieter, more desolate plea.

Alex is surprised, and lays a second hand on it, feeling along the strange hide. More quietly, only audible to the bear: "Just promise not eat any of us, okay?"

Newt can too easily imagine how a creature such as this bear would wind up with a name such as "Woodsman's Death"; he's seen grisly deaths before.

Still, from what he can tell of the injured creature before them, this bear seems closer to its own death than to killing any of them.

"I might be able to move them with magic," Newt suggests, glancing at the rocks in question. "Maybe not all of them, depending on how much energy the spell requires. But at least it's a start."

Newt remains where he is, following Alex's lead, for the most part. He doesn't want to startle the poor creature, not when it's hurt as it is.

"I might also be able to do something for the pain, if only briefly," he offers. He doesn't know if casting Felix Feclicis on a giant bear will even work, but it's something he can try, at least.

Newt knows no fear for himself; just obvious empathy for this injured creature.

"OK, to move something heavy, those of us without magic are going to need a lever of some sort." Cosima considers, then turns to Val. "What are the odds of finding a pretty sturdy tree branch around here?"

She really doesn't think this is a great idea, but she thinks the quicker solution will be to help rather than try to talk either Alex or Newt out of their decision to help.

"Free it, so it might be renamed 'Inquisition's Death'?"

This is mostly toothless sarcasm. Val is not deaf to the pain of the beast. If anything, it should be freed--but of its misery, horrific injury that will no doubt spell its death in the end. All life ought to be preserved, but if it cannot be, there might be something to be learned after the death. That is just practicality!

But: the beast is not dead yet. Val casts around for the tree branch, and then points to a large arborcedar that stands above the other trees in the area. The underbrush obscures most of the ground around its base, but the tree looks weathered, and will have branches close to the ground, if not dropped branches they can pick up.

"Here--this way!"

Alex climbs up another rock, bringing herself - with some considerable effort - up to the height of the bear's snout, gently laying a hand against its cheek for a moment. "Hey." Her voice is very quiet, very soft, and she starts to murmur to it in a language that might not be terribly familiar to the others, unless they're well versed in slightly clumsy Greek with a mangled accent. Asking the bear questions that it can't answer, offering it reassurances that it'll be okay.

And, realising the others are helping, and not digging their heels in at the insanity, she flashes a surprised, grateful smile. (These good, good nerds. She'll keep them forever.)

"See? We got you," she assures the bear, and— oddly, perhaps, it does seem a little calmer, though it's leaning its head against Alex slightly, and though she'd love to think its affection, exhaustion is the far more likely answer.

"Newt, uh— yeah, pain relief sounds amazing." Patting him on the back, as she hops down from talking to bear, and starts to crawl down to get a better look at the rock situation. And then, to Val and Cosima, "It looks like there's a couple big ones around one of the hind legs that are keeping him stuck. See, he can tug forward a little bit, and maybe that's what's bough more smaller stuff down, but there's something keeping him from moving forward."

Newt watches as Alex fearlessly brings herself up to the height of the bear's snout. Much as he would love to join her, he doesn't want to overwhelm or distract the poor creature; the bear is suffering enough already. He does, however, move closer, listening to the words Alex speaks to the bear. Greek, perhaps? He thinks he recognizes a phrase or two.

He, too, is glad when the others actually agree to help; he expected much more resistance, given his own past experiences, and he finds himself endeared to the whole lot of them for it. In these dark times in Thedas, it really does feel amazing to find such goodness and kindness in other people.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do," he nods to Alex, moving to the side of the creature, but trying to remain in its line of sight. Again, he doesn't want to distress the poor beast.

"It's alright," he assures him with a soft voice and as much of a gentle smile he can muster. "I'm going to try something for the pain, alright?"

In another moment, he has his wand out, and, in another, he utters the words for the Episkey spell. It's meant for minor injuries, but it should take the edge off of the bear's pain, at least, momentarily. Provided Thedas lets the magic work.

"How are you feeling?" He asks the bear a moment later. From what he can tell, it seems to have worked; the bear seems less tense; he seems to relax more. Hopefully, he accomplished something.

Cosima follows Val's lead, muttering "Damnit, I'm a microbiologist, not a physicist," a joke Alex might actually get if she were close enough to hear it. But when they find a likely specimen, she says to Val, "We're going to have to use something as a fulcrum, too. The arrangement might be tricky. With any luck, Newt will keep him from turning around and taking a swipe at us while we try to figure it out."

Oh my god, what are we doing, she does not say. Out loud.

"I detest a reliance on luck." Val, grumbling, is still Val, useful. He nods back the way that they have come, as he picks up one end of the large and solid branch. "There were plenty of rocks close to dear Woodsman's Death. We might use one of those, and save ourselves the work of hauling one back--but I suspect the larger part of our work will rely upon brute strength. And I detest, too, that we are having to labor over here, while over there, anything might be happening--motivation, I suppose--I am not motivated by rushing--"

The branch is solid enough that it does require some effort. He leads the way back from where they have come, trusting Cosima to carry her end of the branch. The pained noises of the great bear have changed in tone, which means that either Woodman's Death has become Alex-and-Newt-Death, or they have done something to assist the creature.

As they come around a swathe of underbrush, the scene is made clear. Newt, performing some magics. Alex, with her hand pressed to the bear's face. Riftes, Val thinks to himself, are very stupid and foolhardy. Bless them.

"A branch," he calls out, "as instructed! The larger rocks toward the back, did you say?"

( closed ) the wild dogs cry out in the night

I'm so late, hi

no me i am the latest

no, we are all perfect

i love everyone in this bar.

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SORRY FRIENDS FOR MY SLOWNESS

Sorry guys for my own slowness! I just saw this tag now oops. >.>

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