Sink or swim.

<H4>Out of Character</H4>Who: <a href=http://shadowlack.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=373#XII>Okkie</a>, <a href=http://shadowlack.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=1556>Puanym</a>, Thoren, <a href=http://shadowlack.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=926>Kjetta</a>, and <a href=http://shadowlack.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=1542>Xestri</a>.
What: A Shadowlack hazing disguised as an initiation.
Where: Deep in the forest that’s near to the Janardan Academy, next to a rather long pond.
When: Late evening, Mia, Day 50, Year 81378 (4).
Rated: Restricted, for violence and language.
<H4>In Character</H4>Her teachers at the Academy had been suspicious. Firstly, she’d shown up to class, her left arm wrapped in ice that never melted, a gory wound visible beneath the opaque sheafs of ice. Several of her professors had requested she stay after class, and Okkie had heard the same questions, time and time again — “What happened to your arm? Do you need to see a doctor? Are you receiving treatment for your wound?” They had all pretended to be concerned, but she was absolutely sure it was a farce, because no matter how grievous her injury seemed to get (it had begun to blister and bleed sporadically), not one of them ever offered to help her seek medical help. No... as the infection finally corrupted her immune system and she started to fall asleep in class and have to use the restroom more and more often, none of them ever offered to truly care. They just watched her from a distance, watched her suffer, until she finally vanished, the seat in each of her classes empty for a whole two weeks.

Even now, as she huddled on a rock near to the bonfire, she wondered whether they’d been more concerned or relieved when she’d finally just disappeared. Not that it mattered, not that her vanishing act had been permanent. Two weeks passed, and nobody saw hide nor hair of the infamous Stormwing. Then, exactly fourteen days later, she’d popped right back into the regime. But if anyone had suspected this was going to be an assurance of some sort, they were all wrong... very, very wrong. For Okkie returned, healthy as ever... but the arm that had been crusted with blood and contagions only weeks before was now completely... missing.

The flames of the bonfire crackled in rhythm with Okkie’s snickering, and she leaned away from the conflagration, her body now thoroughly warmed. That day had been the greatest — the stares, the disbelief, the bewildered professors sputtering in blatant confusion. They had all been taken aback; nobody had mentioned to them that a student had undergone such a grave operation. How were they to react? Was she to be treated with special consideration? Did anyone have any clue what had happened in the first place? For a good three or four days, the banded female single-handedly had the Janardan staff in a proverbial uproar. But then, because even chaos got boring after a while, she’d simply lied to a teacher, saying she’d cut herself playing water polo at some foreign school, had contracted tetanus, and had required amputation. The word had quickly spread, and then everyone, teachers and students alike, had quickly gotten to feeling sorry for her, and a few renegades had even sent hate mail to the school she’d accused.

“There is no greater art, than that of the con man. Or, in this case, con woman. I toast you, self.”

The youthful Stormwing, despite the fact that she had recently lost a left arm, was in great spirits as she huddled before the roaring fire. There was no reason to be sad, after all — she knew that there was a great chance she’d have her arm reattached someday, good as new (and she’d cause another school-wide ruckus). Besides, being one-armed wasn’t half-bad, especially in this cold; there was a lot less surface area to be exposed to the chilly evening wind! Not that the young pendragon was poorly equipped for the weather... sure, she was only wearing a white tee (the left sleeve flaccid and unused) and jeans, but she had a large flannel blanket wrapped around herself. This not only kept her toasty warm, but it would also be an excellent way to surprise her ‘guests’ once they arrived — she was pretty sure a one-armed pendragon leaping out of fire-shadows would be fairly creepy.

Speaking of them, where were her Shadowlack ‘guests’? The fire had been crackling for nearly an hour and a half now, and the sky was bruised with darkness. Silvery smoke curled up towards the sky, and Okkie knew her victims would be searching the plum sky for the faded wisps of miasma. She just hoped they weren’t going to be late — she’d told them to be there by nightfall, or there would be dire consequences.

And, one arm or not, she was fully prepared to deliver on that promise.

 

The sun was sinking low, casting the world beneath it in hues of ebon and deep azure, the faintest bit of orange glimmering on the horizon. Even in the twilight, a faint shimmering of silver was visible, drifting lazily up between the trees, beckoning him forward. He risked being late, but had prepared by leaving nearly two hours earlier than was required for him to reach the meeting on time.

He'd fallen 'asleep' on his way, much like a narcoleptic. Only, this was no true sleep, for his body gained no rest or respite in that unconcious state. Puanym had yet to figure out what was causing his episodes, but had learned to cope. Now, he trundled leisurely through the forest, debating on the wisdom of being late.

Twelve had said not to, to be there exactly as night fell. Twelve had promised great pain to those who did not heed this requirement. Twelve had also nearly knocked his head cleanly from his shoulders earlier that day. Puanym supposed that it wasn't really her fault; he'd gone into one of his trances, and had either 'ignored' her when she first tried to grab his attention, or had been 'staring' at her. Either way, Okkie had used her remaining arm to wallop him upside his head quite hard, effectively knocking him from his state.

Now, normally, that didn't bother him. What had irked him was the fact that she'd then given him a swift kick to the ribs, and called him several unsavory names. Of course, it was shortly thereafter that she'd told him to meet her tonight. While he wouldn't strike her back (yet), it did cross his mind to tempt fate and perhaps make her angry again.

However, when he finally reached the clearing where a large fire burned, Puanym didn't hesitate to enter. He was in his usual state of dress; large, black leather pants, a chain for a belt, and many piercings. It was quite cold, so he'd simply thickened his fur to block out the chill, and folded his wings across his shoulders. They were draped there now, looking much like a cape.

Twelve was there, yes, though quite obscured by the shadows. Puanym paid little mind to any others present; a blank expression greeted Okkie, and he didn't bother to sit down. This was to be Shadowlack, something of which he'd heard little to nothing about. He was very curious.

"Twelve has said to come, and so Puanym came. What is this, this Shadowlack?" he queried softly.

 

<H4>Out of Character</H4>Mm… I was waiting for DJ to post, but it doesn’t seem like she’s going to, so I’ll just go ahead. I’m really inspired right now, so this might be a little overly verbose. Oh, and a little bit Rated R, near the end, but we already knew it was going to be like that, eh? :P
<H4>In Character</H4> The final streaks of miasmatic light faded from the ethereal watercolor of the sky, and now it was brushed with purplish-pitch paint. The woodlands around the crackling bonfire were bruised with darkness, and there was no discerning the ghastly forms circling around the lip of orange light. Everything was hidden, even though the blaze was quite immense, and the only apparition that could be made out amongst the dancing and leaping shadows was Okkie. Rebelling against the dusk, she hovered close enough to the inferno to be detectable, her form engulfed in ashen smoke. However, though the illumination of the fire played across her face, giving radiance to her creases and angles, part of her was still swallowed by shadow; as she sat there, stiffly waiting, she looked like a grotesque harlequin, quite baleful and malicious in intent. There was no way to interpret the malevolent smile that crawled slowly over her cinnamon maw, but it coupled with the grisly darkness to make one uncanny sight.

A sight which soon became the focal point of two unseeing eyes. A twig snapped in the direction of the pond, which was only a few meters away, and Okkie’s smile disappeared, to be replaced with a menacing, hollow expression. Though she had been rigid before, her bodice tightened up even more, as she waited to see the initiator of the mild disturbance… Before long, a quadruped female crawled into the ring of light, polar in coloration. She was extremely lissome, her gene pool tilted towards the feline side. As the one-armed pendragon watched this slightly familiar entity creep into the boundaries, her muscles slowly loosened. This was Xestri, one of the ‘invited’. She was harmless, as far as Okkie was concerned, and when the scythed femme offered salutations, the youthful Twelve shrugged (though she knew Xestri couldn’t see), and purled: “Yes, greetings to you, as well, Xestri.”

As the sightless newcomer made herself comfortable near the fire, Okkie watched her, and began to look around for the others. Had they each come individually, or did they find safety in numbers? She almost laughed callously at the thought of being feared — she wasn’t that intimidating! Or was she? Once more, a vividly intense expression crossed her face, one of thoughtful consternation. Perhaps the Evil One’s mark had left a web of shadows over her, giving her that ‘touch’ that seemed to disconcert others. Well… that was all right with her. Tonight, she would need the factor of coercion, but also one of conniving hospitality. She needed to be commanding but friendly… she needed both to challenge them, and drink with them. There had to be an intricate balance in their interactions; Okkie would have to find it.

But, first, they all needed to arrive. Slipping off her countenance was that air of contemplation, as the young pendragon turned her two-toned eyes towards the forest. Just as her oculars focused, a figure emerged, cloaked in black, barely discernable amongst the wicked shadows and shades. As the bipedal moved closer to the elucidation of the bonfire, Okkie recognized him — Puanym. A schoolmate, just like Xestri, only she knew this male a little better than she knew the blind female. She’d had several classes with him, and, intrigued by his dark garb and his eerie temperament, she’d chosen to invite him to participate in Shadowlack. Of course, they both knew that the incitement hadn’t been an airy, gracious one, such as one would extend for a birthday party in the summer. Nay, ever short-tempered and liable to snap, Okkie had been short with Puanym, knocking him around a bit to get her point across. Apparently, it had worked, as the male was here, standing just a few feet away, both vision and timbre indistinct. A query, not a greeting, came from his sallow lips, and Twelve turned to stare stonily at him, calculating her answer. “You are not yet privileged to know. If you prove yourself, you will learn the truth.”

A look of amused contempt flashed in her eyes, and then the banded one peered into the forest again. She sensed another out there, just outside her range of vision, but even after a few pregnant moments, no one advanced. Okkie’s hackles stirred, and she had to stifle a ululating growl which trembled in her belly. She wanted to investigate, find those eyes which she felt boring into her skin, and perhaps peel them out. But that was something Kakosenas would do, not her… and alas, she was distracted by the next arrival, someone whom she found a little more captivating than her other guests…

Thoren Jumakh. As he sauntered into view, his coquettish nature shining through bright eyes and a kitschy smile, Okkie finally stood, the flannel blanket weaving softly about her trim figure. She towered above him, her being in an anthropomorphic shift and his being in a quadruped one, but there was no sense of threat between them. Twelve smiled at his arrival, grinned even. For some reason, she was attracted to this male… but not in an ordinary sense. She lusted for two things — his body, and his demise. She wanted to mate him and then slay him, was aroused by the idea of intimacy followed by bloodshed. However, she was a conservative female, and dared not give into her desires. Thus, as she peered indulgently upon the male only two years her senior, she settled with a blown kiss, somewhat sinister in spirit, and then a coy retort to his words: “Salutations right back to you, dear. I’m not too cross. In fact, I’m happy to see you… Too bad you’re not in your bipedal shift, or you would get a treat.”

The female simpered, trailing off as the gave him a cuttingly flirtatious look. Twelve then turned from him, and gazed at the other two. Three out of four. Seventy-five percent. And the sun had set, the moons had risen. The deadline had come and gone, and a face was missing. Ah, all is well. If that one decides to show up, though, there might be a little more death tonight than I’d originally intended… There was that satanic smile again, lighting up her shadowy features, then melting away just as swiftly as she became quiet and still, standing in the bursting and shifting light of the bonfire.

“Well, I’d originally invited four of you,” she finally spoke up, suddenly moving, tossing her blanket off to expose her alluring figure, clad in only simple street clothes. She padded towards a dim niche between some shrubs, reaching her remaining arm down to pick something up — a container with four glass bottles. “But it looks like one has chosen not to show their face. Unworthy. Oh, well… I only have four bottles, so this will work better anyway. Each of you,” and she pointed at Xestri, Puanym, then Thoren. “Come drink with me?”

But it wasn’t a question. Okkie tucked the carton under her arm, then pulled one of the bottles out. With her prehensile thumb, she popped the lid, and almost immediately, a saccharine scent washed over the group, too tantalizing to resist. Once they smelled it, they wouldn’t be able to deny a draft. That was the magic, and the curse, of it. They would have to drink it, but none of them would be aware of its secrets… its very, very deadly secrets.

 

Puanym grinned at her reply. It held no mirth, rather appearing to be a sort of grimace, a showing of fangs. He would prove himself, or die trying. Knowing Twelve, those were the only options available.

Watching, waiting...a third entered, making four of their little meeting. He thought he knew of this one, having seen him about the academy. Head went off-kilter, obscure gray optics surveying the flamboyantly yellow figure, the color near putridly bright to his eyes. A small, nearly invisible grimace twisted his lips for a moment before he turned away.

Ah, now this he could handle. Twelve had brought beverages...perhaps Shadowlack allowed such fineries as this, for when the hostess popped the top, a most alluring and delightful oder wafted across the small clearing. Slowly, he approached, stopping nigh the one-armed 'dragon by a few feet.

"Drink?" Said softly, as if to confirm what he has heard. "Puanym would drink with Twelve, if Twelve is truly offering."

 

So they were all drinkers. Somehow, this pleased the young Okkie, and a low, ululating purr sounded in the deeps of her throat. As she let loose this noise of contentedness, she watched the guests all slink slowly forward, each now bipedal in stature. Though Xestri was blind, she maneuvered skillfully around the fire and the other obstacles which lay in her path, and the banded pendragon found herself respecting the sightless female a little more than she had anticipated. She knew it had taken extreme guts for the striped creature to venture out here, without the gift of vision, and only her other senses to guide her. If she passed the test, she would be a welcome asset to Shadlow… that was, if she could make the cut. Okkie wondered how difficult it would be for Xestri to navigate the long channel of water she was going to force them all to swim… and she found that, deep inside her belly, a small twinge of guilt panged against the inside of her skin. She looked away from the scythe-marked femme then, her piercing eyes landing on Puanym and Thoren as she tried to stifle any mental images of the blind female struggling for life in a vortex of black water. The two males were just as lithe as the female, and they moved almost in rhythm with one another as they approached her. Okkie waited until all three of them were standing a few feet from her, and then she lifted her right arm, her only arm — signalling them to halt. She then gave each of them a baleful look, and inserted a bottle into each hand. She made special care to make sure Xestri had a firm grip on her respective glass, and then Okkie back pedaled a few feet, surveying her harem as they took the first sips from the delectable concoction.

“While you enjoy these drinks, I will tell you why you came here. Listen closely, kiddies. I won’t repeat myself.” Okkie rolled her shoulders and her mismatched orbs briefly flicked up to the sky. She then drew in a long breath, then launched into her diatribe. “Shadowlack is a new force, started less than a season ago, in the dusty basement levels of the Academy. It was founded by myself and my partner in crime, whom you will only know as the Evil One. Together, we have begun to form this organization of worthy members, and we have tried to make a strong and cunning pack full of shrewd and clever pendragons. It is not easy to get into Shadowlack, but you have made it this far, so do not lose hope just yet. The Evil One and I test each prospective member by offering them a rigorous challenge that not only tests the physique, but the mind as well. The test I have set up for us tonight is one that plays on both agility, dexterity, strength, integrity, and the ability to face blank oblivion. Your challenge, specifically, is to swim across the length of this pond before you… without any kind of help. Ah, and beware! Though this pond seems innocent enough, it is nighttime, and its dark waters hide many traps that I have laid. There is no telling what may happen to you if you decide to go through with this test.”

Stormwing let her voice trail off mysteriously, and once more she found herself glaring from one guest to the next. She felt that each of them was strong enough, but she had to wonder if they would be able to face the fearsome things that would rise from the depths of the pond — if there really were any (who was to say if she was lying to scare them or not?). Okkie also wondered how each would react to the effects of the elixir with which they presently poisoned themselves unknowingly… How would each of these pendragons behave when they suddenly realized that they were being dragged under, sinking by an unseen force, being tugged to a watery grave…?

She almost laughed aloud as she imagined what was going to happen, then Okkie tipped back her cranium and took a deep swig from her own bottle. The bright liquid surged down her throat, full of bubbles and stimulants. She drained her share quickly enough, savoring the sweet tang on her lips. When she was finished, she wiped her mouth and tossed her bottle into the fire, watching it disintegrate before her very eyes. Okkie smiled throughout this whole endeavor, for her own consumption of the saccharine drink would have no consequences. After all, it only struck on those whom found themselves in water… and she had no reason to personally enter the pond tonight.

“Now, if any of you wants to back out now, feel free. I cannot say I won’t hate you for it… but you will have your life in your own hands. If you choose to stay, your life will belong to me for the next few hours. And who is to say you won’t lose it? There are no guarantees here.”

She wrapped up her cryptic speech with a sealing snarl, and then turned away from them. She gave them a few moments to cluster together and discuss their respective courses of action… and was pleased when, even after a pregnant five minutes passed, none of them abandoned their challenges. Okkie, deciding that they were all in for the long haul, then offered them a demonic grin each (though she still realized Xestri had no way of seeing it), then prowled towards them. She wondered if they had figured out the order they would go in… it was up to them, she had no opinion on whom she would like to see struggle first.

“I assume by your stagnant presences that you choose to remain and undertake your tasks? Good for you. Each of you wins a reward just for your bravery. Or should I say foolishness? Ah. Xestri and Puanym, yours will come in time. As for you, Thoren…” And she turned towards him, inching forward a bit so she was muzzle-to-muzzle with the brightly-colored male. “I have a feeling — just a tiny hunch, mind you — that there is no ‘later’ for you. So you will receive your reward now.”

With these seductively slurring lexis, Okkie abruptly pressed herself against the male, her thin tail twisting around her hips to snuggle tightly against his own. Though she was clothed and he naked, she had no inhibitions or hesitations, and she pressed her every curve against his, until their bodies were snugly molded together. She could feel every muscle, sinew, and tissue held against her body, and she purred plaintively as she leaned forward and put her maw near his ear. For a split second, she nibbled on his lobe, and then she drew back, stealthy and weaving, like a serpent. Her lower body remained pressed against his, however, and the youthful female reached out her hands and rubbed them gently against his sides. It was a stimulating gesture, and Okkie was rewarded by the glittering sparkle in the male’s eyes. Inspired by this positive reaction, the femme then took it a step further — she let her digits trail slowly down Thoren’s sides, and a bit forward, until she lay her palms on either side of his phallic regions. She was teasing him, tugging every last thread of desperation from him. Her cinnamon paws tickled ever closer… closer… closer… and she would have perhaps given Thoren his exacting prize, if a twig hadn’t suddenly snapped, shattering the moment and causing Stormwing to leap away and glare icily into the foliage around the group.

“Who dares trespass during this meeting? Show yourself! If it is the fourth, you are late, and shall suffer… and if it is any other… ha, your suffering will far surpass that of any little late comer…”

 

Strange...Twelve would let none get near her, was the thought that flittered across his mind as the bottle was placed into his waiting hand. Tilting it to his lips, he took a sip--and was rewarded by the fact that the drink did indeed taste as delectable as it smelled. The rest soon followed in three, rather large swallows. It burned, liquid fire draining down into his stomach in a poisonous coil of flavor and bubbles.

The bottle was dropped into the waiting flames, following suit with its brothers. One large ear swiveled forward, intent on Okkie's every word. Shadowlack....in the Academy basement. Not surprising, really. The Evil One? So there was another to this Shadowlack? How interesting...and they were to swim the pond? Solid gray eyes turned in their sockets, though Puanym's head didn't budge an inch. They raked over the glassy surface of the pond. Surely there had to be more to it, and traps would definently add some spice.

Then came the offer.

Back out? He hadn't come all the way out here just to back out...and the Evil One intrigued him. Did he know this Evil One? He would have to wait and see...he didn't move from his spot, simply waiting for the others to make their decision, and for Okkie to tell them when to begin.

Good. It seemed they were all staying. How fun. Puanym had a distinct feeling that, while they had all come here, they would not all be leaving. But who was to go so soon? His attention was brought abruptly back to Twelve, as she sauntered towards them once more. A reward. Rewards were good...depending on what they were.

Though, if Thoren's current reward was any indication, it was one he certainly wouldn't mind getting. The midnight 'dragon was watching, though his head had never turned, and would have kept watching if someone hadn't been so bold as to interrupt.

Now, his head did turn, ever so slowly to the woods. Puanym seemed calm, not worried about whomever it was that had dared to sneak in on such private preceedings. Twelve would deal with them, or have one of them do it for her. He waited, watching and listening, eager to see if perhaps this mysterious one would show themself.

 

For those few moments between her savage declaration and the arrival of the trespasser, Okkie was like a poised velociraptor, her temper unsheathed as well as her teeth and nails, prepared to blind-side and strike whomever dared interrupt her meeting. She stood as still as a statue, her mismatched oculars boring into the dark, drilling the shadows for any sign, any trace, of the intruder whom she could sense. Her sentiments of rage and defensiveness were multiplied exponentially by the similar emotions which coursed through her three guests — she could feel their blood boiling along with hers, could feel their tension and furious wrath, and it caused her own ferocity to fester and grow. She felt this fountain of fury springing up from her belly, deep and open, like a mouth chewing its way up her throat, trying to devour her soul and feed on the rest of her feelings. It wanted to leap from her maw and assail the anonymous lurker, rip and tear and slash until there was nothing left but a pile of pulp and slick carnage, raw and red and dripping from every surface. It was only her pristine balance of justice and sensibility that kept her in check against this churning pit of emotions, even when the trespasser crossed into the light, unmasking himself against the radiance of the bonfire. Though she desired terribly to launch herself at him, to slay him with her knife-like claws, Okkie held herself still, trembling with the effort as she forced herself to speak.

Do you think I fear you? Do you think I will heed your petty, weak threat? Do I look like just an average student out to stir up a bit of mischief to you? You are so sorely mistaken, it is almost laughable. I am not the type of pendragon who can be dragged to the principal and rebuked with a shout or a detention. I have participated in murder, trafficked illegal substances, fucked the brains out of my roommate. I am not just some silly kid out having a good time. My purpose here is serious, and so is every word I utter. Do not underestimate me when I tell you that you will not escape unscathe-”

Her diatribe was delivered with a fierceness and an intensity that startled even the young Stormwing. As she spoke, the male, whom was an adult and probably a professor at the Academy, inched ever closer, and her eyes of emerald and azure pierced his gaze with a smoldering blaze dancing in their depths. Her words were strong, and she was quite enthralled in her speech, but she abruptly cut off as the stranger finally settled himself and stilled, just a few feet away from her. It was not fear or alarm that caused Okkie to stop mid-sentence, but, indeed — surprise. For as her eyes focused intently into his, she saw the burning passion there. Juxtaposed to his authoritative commands, he seemed not to be a true threat, but just a sucker whom had wandered in and whom was now ensnared by the many tricky ways of the Twelfth. This sudden realization caused a quaint sneer to cross her lips, and Okkie turned to glare scathingly at Thoren, her snapping quite brief.

“Shut up. I was only fooling with your heart, and with all of your heads. This is actually my true interest, my dearest lover…” And she turned her cranium back towards the newest arrival. “He has finally arrived. Oh! Where you have you been…? I have not seen you in ages, O love… What brings you to these woods? Participation in the bloodiest of games? Just in time… for we were just beginning. Pardon my morbid game, I did not mean to frighten you… but you are well-acquainted with my savagery and cunning, so I know you will forgive my trespass.”

Twelve knew not where this maudlin poetry came from, but she was excited by her own cleverness and daring. She knew both Thoren and the teacher would be utterly thrown off by her farce,… and that was really the fun of it. She smiled with a reverberating, passionate snarl, then launched herself into the teacher’s arms. Her cinnamon arm clung to his neck, and she leaned in to bite ravenously and amorously at his throat… or so it seemed. But even as the others looked on, most likely believing she was greeting some sort of cryptic lover, she was really leaning her jaws against the stranger’s cheekbone, and breathily whispering a chilling warning into his ear:

“I sense your passion, your daring, your lust. You want to fuck me, don’t you? Don’t dare to deny it. I am afraid that even if you had merely trespassed, execution would have been your prize. But you have dually offended me with your pedophilia. Come… dance with me! Dance with me… O, love. Dance with me… the trot of death.”

 

Principal? Puanym raised a brow, his face expressionless otherwise. This newcomer barked a lot, but so far had done nothing to make the silent 'dragon afraid he would bite.

Besides, Twelve seemed to know him. And well, perhaps, judging from her sudden change of behaviour. She discared Thoren blatantly, harshly, as if he were even less than the plaything she'd been using him for.

He really enjoyed that part. A large, obviously amused grin crept across his face, and Puanym tilted his head slightly, looking over at the yellow 'dragon. His eyes flickered a green-yellow, as did his tail flame; he was silently laughing at the other male. While he bore no romantic feelings towards Twelve, and had no lustful intentions, he enjoyed seeing the cocky Thoren disregarded so easily.

"Perhaps your bravado was a bit premature, Thoren." was his quiet comment, eye flickering breifly with color once again. With a sound like dry, whispering silk, the leathern wings that had so far stayed carefully around his shoulders unfolded. They stretched widely, stroking the air a few times before Puanym carefully refolded them against his back.