Timestamp: Dyo (Spring), 35, 81382 Late morning, a partly cloudly and somewhat windy Title Spelling Fixed by teh ninja mod=p... Benji: O.o ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She pushed her scraggly long white hair out of her eyes and climed out of the gutter, grasping along the dirt and mud to pull herself up. She scrambled blindly,(the irony) until she managed to pull herself out of the mud and foul smelling water. Jay rolled onto her side and after whiping the grim from her face she chuckled evily. "I bet thats the last time those bloaks take me for a half-wit!" She reached her hand into her cloak and jingled a poach of gold, "Just because I'm blind dosen't mean I can't gamble, I bet that duffy arden will be missin this in a moment. I'd better scoot." It was worth it just to imagen the look they must of had on their faces, even if she was tossed into the gutter and kicked in the rump a few times.
<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana color=white style="font-size:8pt;"> OOC: Sorry for the wait! Like I said in the thread, I was waiting on Siaka's post but... we'll just fast foreward. I can make it up. On the cobblestone road Phet'knis had been left with dark, dirty streams of street water to wet her pelt and make foul her smell. Being the Black Market, few seemed to mind that the feydragon was another piece of litter to the roadside, being amongst damp cardboard boxes -- but Phet'knis was also unfortunate in that she was on the outskirts of the market where only the bloody-thirsty and savage prowled. Another body was nobody's business or concern. So there she'd laid but a few metres from the very gutter Jureap spewed forth from. Warm sanguine liquid seeped from her nose and the pinkish corners of her eyes, eyes which were presently vacant and just barely open, no more than golden slivers. Her body's status seemed no better; it was unmoving and bore a few scarlet gashes along her upper body, the majority of which laced beautiful colour along her chest and neck. The injuries, while bright, were hardly fatal. So, why the limp disposition? In the air magic buzzed, loud and clear. Meanwhile Jureap made her escape from the gutter. 'knis did not stir. </td></tr></table>
The lanky thill attempted to stand, her muscles sore and wobbly from her beating. But she had had worse, and she was probably wanted in more than one city for her tactful ways. Her stomach gurgled and Jay did not manage to get to her footpaws before coughing up a mouthful of brown water. She painted gulping in air, with all four paws planted firmly in the dank moist soil. JayÂ’s jaws parted and she tasted the air with her tongue like a snake and not scenting the ardens who wronged her she made her way to the edge of the cobblestone road. The cobble stones were battered and crumbled, JayÂ’s footing was not steady. She paused at every slight noise and tasted the air. Her tail was raised above her like a scorpion and at the tip 2 deadly barbs flashed in the sunlight. The barbs were very toxic and if it came in contact with an enemyÂ’s bloodstream they would be paralyzed within minutes and dead within 4 hours. The toxin worked from the inside out liquefying the organs of the unlucky creature. It was slow and painful, but at times necessary. Jay was blind at birth and her body made up for it with her many mutations. (Jay sees with her Electrokinesis ) She edged along in her feral form and made her way toward the edges of the market. But then she stopped walking her electromagnetic waves buzzed out around her, they were picking up electricity just to her left. JayÂ’s tongue flicked out and sure enough a dragon of some kind was struggling to breath. Jureap turned toward the mass of dark fur and focused her energy. She wasnÂ’t very big, but she appeared injured from her labored movements and heavy breathing. Jay paused unsure of whether to move on, but hesitant to help. After all there was no good reason why she should stick her neck out for some half dead thill sheÂ’d never met before. She raised her tail, maybe she should put the creature out of itÂ’s miseryÂ… She stepped closerÂ…
<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana color=white style="font-size:8pt;"> Phet'knis was by no means close to death, although her hardly conscious state didn't seem to be any closer to life either. She was in a state of temporary paralysis -- already ebbing through her body was magic, just as overpowering as Jay's poison, spidering through her network of veins and arteries. The attacker was long gone, the heat of his body no longer warming the air, but his scent, his magic, his... his aura seemingly lingered behind in the wake of his prey. Those glazed cat-yellow eyes flickered beneath the grey cover of their lids. Some ember of life was still there, rest assured. In the abyss of her body, Phet's mind was at work undoing some of the horror wrecked upon her by the tilghe. Like a war the two magics fought against one another to gain territory but the inevitable result would be the success of the feydragon and the purging of her body... the process was simply achingly slow and, as a result, she could physically do nothing more than lie, limp as if death's grip was now on her, on the streets of the Black Market. What coin she'd gained in that day's selling was long gone and her clothes, nothing more than an overdone scarf, were stolen too. Not that it was any great loss for the fey. Both money and attire mattered little. More and more she won the battle between the foriegner's magic and her own, until alas she was able to gain back her full sight. Coming into vision, she expected, would be streets; instead, she found Jureap. And even though she was startled at her appearance, so close to her own body, Phet'knis' body could not produce the reaction. The best it could muster, at that moment, was a barely audible, serpentine hiss thick and full of ice. <font color=gold>"Don't get any ideas, niotie."</font> </td></tr></table>
((OOC: Sorry I've been out of swing for a while, but I think my posts are getting a tad better every time. I apologize for the spelling errors.)) Jureap jumped back a few paces in alarm when the dragon snapped back to life. A few sparks shot out from her paws in response to the surprise and her tail twitched with nervous uncertainty. The dragon that had seemed almost lifeless moments ago was staring up into Jay’s sightless eyes. A husky voice warned her, <span style='color:yellow'>"Don't get any ideas, niotie."</span> Her ice blue eyes frosted over, How dare she address me in that manner! I doubt she’s much older than me! “Niotie?" “Niotie?!" Jay huffed in outrage, “What makes you think you’re my superior?" “You were at Death’s doorstep a moment ago." She shook her white main and blinked furiously, to think that I was about to help her a moment ago. <span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>(she doesn’t want to outwardly admit that she is some what good person) </span> In the back of Jay’s mind her intentions truly were pure. After years of slumming around in the streets she realizes that she needs a purpose and maybe some friends. She had thought than maybe music was her calling, but it didn’t make her feel worthwhile anymore, after all what good is a voice if there is no one to hear it? It mine as well not exist in the first place if no one is willing to listen.
<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana color=white style="font-size:8pt;"> OOC: don't apologize! you're doing fine. i really like jureap's personality so far and your writing is exciting, dynamic. The husk of a body that was Phet's convulsed once on its own accord while the fey's eyes remained unblinking, and unmoving, on the nearby lukuo. Her expression was utterly lax, for she had little energy to control her very face, but her stare glowed with the beating light of life. She was very much alive and all too willing to fight for it... maybe just not now. Truthfully, Phet had no place in calling the other female a niotie. But in a situation such as this her hostile reaction seemed more than warranted, even if the wretched words had no foundation of truth. <font color=gold>"At death's doorstep, was I? Seems rude I didn't drop by,"</font> tremulously mused the 'dragon despite her sallow state. She was on the verge of another snippy comment when abruptly both her eyes and mouth went shut. Her face simply shut down and again the stillness and stagnance of death consumed her. For a while all was quiet. The roads even appeared to lose their callous noise. Then came her thought-speech. <font color=gold>~What do you see? What do I look like?~</font> she inquired of the other, speaking quite suddenly into the chamber of Jureap's head. There her words were well and healthy. But because her physical liveliness was hugely depleted Jureap could've easily flicked off Phet's thought-speech from her head like a light-switch. Nothing could be simpler. Knowing this, Phet had still extended her words over to the stranger. </td></tr></table>
Jureap cringed as the thill tremered. She could not see the state the body of the fey was in. But Jay’s electricity allowed her to feel the heartbeats, the pulse of the blood, the flick of a tail, the expanding of the ribcage as the oxygen flowed into the lungs. Any movement the fey made, the very act of being alive caused electric pulses that stimulated the lungs, the brain, the heart, and this allowed Jay to build and picture of the thill in her mind. Her electrokinesis sketched an image of the fey in her head and it could be compared to the way a snake sees and hunts by the heat of its victim. Jureap “hunts" from the electric pulses her “victims" give off. Jay turned to go this thill’s life was not her battle, nor was it in her own hands. Whatever had the fey bewitched, or mentally injured…perhaps stalled? It was not Jay’s place to interfere…at lest not at this point. Her mouth hardened as she realized that the other’s hostility would of course be in cause of her state of weakness. A wild animal is most dangerous when injured. Jureap knew that in her place she would have responded with just as much vigor, if not more. She retained a sort of respect for the thill as she saw the same violent hunger for life inside of fey that she herself retained. Her footpads skidded along the cobblestones as she walked away from the unstiring dark pelt. She felt somewhat numb after the encounter and the foul water that still clung to her damp coat was stinging her nostrils. When a soft hum sounded at the back of her mind Jay shrugged it off as a ringing in her ear, but it persisted at first as only a whisper. Jay dug her claws into the dirt surrounding the cobblestone and strained with her magic to listen. The words perhaps feeling the encouragement got louder and retained a husky hiss, in likeness of the dark fey. <span style='color:yellow'>What do you see? What do I look like? </span> She blinked uncertainly, she had read of some dragons possessing the power to communicate through thoughts, but had never encountered one face to face. What did the thill mean? Was it a joke? A trick of some kind maybe? Did she not realize Jureap’s blindness? That Jay could never tell the color red from the color green because she had never had the chance to behold them? Jay’s world was depicted in dull sepia and through her mind, never of her iris’s… She struggled to reply wondering if the fey would pick up her thoughts… I cannot tell you what I physically see of you, because I do not see with my eyes. But when I focus my sparks and magic upon your form and where it lies, I behold yellow burning eyes and a body weak in spirit. <span style='font-size:8pt;line-height:100%'>(By spirit she is referring to the amount of energy/ electricity pumping through her body.)</span>
<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana color=white style="font-size:8pt;"> The tilghe's magic had simply made a feast of the thill when she'd begun to talk, having taken advantage of the lapse in focus and made claim to more of her body. While success was imminent, the battle was not swift and easy. And until Phet was recovered enough to regain back her bodily senses, she would remain as just another body on the roadside waiting to be havocked, eaten, raped, ransacked. So, with reason, it was in her best interest to recover fast. The departure of the lukuo wasn't heard, nor did Phet feel the electricity thrumming around her body. All physical sensations were lost; Phet was alone in the dark cavity of her mind. To her Jureap was still present, still nearby. She still had eyes for seeing (although Phet had noted they were without the usual sable pupil) and she was still standing there, making talk. It wasn't until Jureap replied did Phet'knis have a sense of her distance. Either that or her magic was uncommonly weak. I cannot tell you what I physically see of you, because I do not see with my eyes. But when I focus my sparks and magic upon your form and where it lies, I behold yellow burning eyes and a body weak in spirit. This she heard, although the words were garbled at some points. Regardless the meaning had still breached. So, she didn't see like most did... Phet'knis had been hoping to get a physical survey of her injuries, hoping to know whether or not she was going to be left helpless even when she woke up. Maybe she was without gashes and blood. She did not know, and perhaps, the other would not be able to know either. At least she'd replied. Jureap could've turned her off. <font color=gold>'Mm, thank you...'</font> she began, although this time with greater hesitance, <font color=gold>'Tell me... should I fear? I don't know where I am, who is around me. Where you left me, should I fear?'</font> Even through mindspeech it was evident that the thill was uneasy about the situation. Now that she'd seen something of her surroundings, she was uncertain of her safety. It was late morning -- soon the markets would be bustling. What would the new day bring and what sort of people? Phet'knis wasn't one who'd often admit to her own fear, especially to someone who was not worthy of that trust yet, but Jureap was, at present, her only connection to reality. The tilghe's magic, which felt like the wintry grip of death to her very flesh and soul, clasped onto all her limbs and fought to keep territory over her lower body organs... </td></tr></table>
As the soft humming at the back of her mind continued Jay did her best to appease the words. Jureap turned her head back to where to fey lie and her serpentine tongue flicked out. She tasted blood, though only a small amount, and somewhat stale as if the wounds on her chest were already clotting. The same dirty and contaminated water that dampened JureapÂ’s fur also hung around Phet'knis. No doubt those wounds would have trouble fully healing if the water had entered them. Your wounds seem minimal for now, but if they are not cleanedÂ…soon, they may have trouble healing. Jay curled her nose from the stench of the water and when she took another whiff the white fur along her back rose and her spike blades stiffened. Those damn ardens of course would come looking for her nowÂ…their scent was still a ways off and JayÂ’s was now of course masked due to the swim she took earlier. But still the fight would not favor Jureap, 3 to 1 was never a great odd. Perhaps earlier she could have handled it but she was tired from the ruckus of night before, and her body was complaining. You are in no good position, to be left helpless in the skirts of the black market is never goodÂ…but in that you seem helpless you are in even more danger. I am also in danger. I was on my way out when I stumbled upon your body, but it slowed me upÂ… my danger may soon become yours as well. Jay was fairly certain that if she was found with another dragon they would both face the same fate, however only if they were found.
<table width="90%" style="background-color: #4F2F4F; " cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana color=white style="font-size:8pt;"> Jureap's response troubled her some, but Phet'knis knew her mind would fair only worse if it became consumed in worry. Her attention would be drawn away from over-powering the foreigner magic and then all hell would most definitely break loose. And that she couldn't afford. And while Phet'knis would've liked to have bragged, would've liked to have said that she'd seen worse days, in all reality, she couldn't do so. For the past six years she'd been a recluse. She'd strayed hardly at all from the familiarity of the swamplands and she probably wouldn't have chosen to have left them earlier that paquite had it not been for her desire to find more subjects to play with, more small gems of beach glass to oogle over, and more people to see her work. Six years had been too long and even she knew that. Still, it was pretty lame how she ended up here, on the bedraggled streets of the notorious Black Market, on her second trip out. Her family would have a good laugh at her, wouldn't they? The lukuo's words came and Phet'knis accepted them silently. She had all intentions on replying but needed time for the statement to really sink in. Only the time she waited became longer and longer... minutes piled on minutes and still the feydragon, limp and corpse-like, was silent. No quiet murmur of thought-speech, nor a whisper of movement from her actual body. Jureap could surely feel with her electric-blitz touch the other thill's little heartbeat, and know she wasn't dead. Maybe Phet'knis was simply gaining more internal ground... Mind-speech came in many forms and Phet's sometimes came with splashes of colour mirroring her mood. The spill of colours only arrived when Phet'knis' mood was intense enough. Utter bliss, heartbeat-skipping fear, and venomous anger are some of the emotions capable of provoking the 'colour'. If Jureap's mind was responsive enough then what came next would surely surprise her: Phet'knis spoke in a voice loud and clear, her tone curt and snappy, and accompanying her words was a wave of flaring oranges and reds, all swimming beside a bolt of brilliant cyan. <font color=gold>'Then by Fronna, you damn niotie, get the 'ell out of here!'</font> She spoke with anger, urgency, and frustration. Within it all was a sense of responsibility for the stranger. </td></tr></table>
The goth like form that stood in the dim morning light felt unease and possibly panic well up in her stomach. Quite the mess Jay had gotten herself into this time, gambling with the wrong sorts, a gang fight and now the chance encounter with an injured fey, and although injured she managed to still be quite spirited. Jay clinched her taloned paws across the cobblestones with impatience, meddling in the affairs of other was always sure to bring trouble. She had made her decision the moment she saw the dark thill, and felt some sort of …dare I say sisterly bond? In that she recognized parts of herself in the fey. She’d had known that she wasn’t capable of leaving the poor creature helpless and alone in the streets. She turned and her mind being made up walked to the fey with a quick glance up and down the alley. Jay waited anxiously for the tattered black fur to respond; she almost thought the fey had passed on. The heartbeats were so irregular the breathing faint and gasping, Jay had to sniff her over to be certain of life. But finally the throaty hiss came to Jay’s inner thoughts, <span style='color:yellow'>'Then by Fronna, you damn niotie, get the 'ell out of here!'</span> The words blazed in Jureaps head a bright flaming, hot, orange and then turning red before the light dimmed and flicked out. Her face framed with her white hair was at times startling, one might say even angelic, and as Jay’s face creased into a frown, she may have looked just that. Her fangs clicked together with annoyance, “Don’t be stupid, I haven’t wasted all this breath on you for nothing. Come now, can you gather your strength? Walk with help perhaps?" That was of course more than Jay truly expected, thus far she had barely seen the thill move… “Will this curse, or whatever your under transfer to me if I pick you up? Or is it safe to make contact?" Jay’s voice had honed a new tone; it had become urgent and fierce. (OOC: Sorry, homework will be the death of me! I hope to regain whats left of my sainity after the AP tests... *shudders at the thought of test day*)
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size:10pt;">OOC: I have TOTALLY forgot to add in Phet's accent this whole time. ;o Sorry about that!! Phet'knis was sure that after a blazing message like that the other thill would move on. It was obvious that the feydragon did not expect any sort of help, especially when she could be reciprocate it, and certainly did not seem to want any coming from Jureap. In her mind, she'd been helped out enough by the lukuo and that was the very extent of begging she would do. She wasn't so proud that she would not ask for help; but she was stubborn enough to reject it when she perceived the costs to outweigh the benefits. Silence followed briefly after her outburst. Within the few minutes that lapsed, she thought rapidly, letting her brain come into focus and not the other sickly body parts. Consciousness returned. Only the very extremities of her body seemed to be suffering now; her legs felt like they had a severe case of pins and needles, and her neck ached to even stir. She would soon be fine enough to stir in the waking world, although a limp would ensue. The rest of the tilghe's spell would wear away on its own... hopefully. <font color=gold>'Dumb lizard,'</font> Phet'knis thought to herself, <font color=gold>'I'll be on toppa it sooner than later.'</font> The world returned to her eyes. Even though she opened those glittering golds of her's as lethargically as a torpid bear the early afternoon's light came into her view sharply, the colours causing her to groan. The familiar voice was the first real strong sound she heard. Jureap's frame, so close to her's, was, again, a surprise. In a weak hiss, the feydragon replied, <font color=gold>"'aven't you had 'nough punishment for th'day, niotie?</font> Her sardonic tone never ceased to amaze. <font color=gold>"No, it's a spell woven out just fa' me. Unless ye' suck on th'enda my tail for an hour, you won't catch a thing. Just tilghe magic, s'all. Though, liake I said, fool, I'm not good to travel with. Or do y'want to be beat'n Fronimaless like me?"</font> She spoke all this in a weak voice that had somehow retained its defiant vigor. Even then, her head was still flat on the ground, and nothing besides her lips and eyelids made so much as a shudder. </td></tr></table>
She choose to ignore the Fey's last speech...and nudged her. Would she move on her own? Or would Jay need to carry her by the scruff. She couldn't tell yet...Jureap snaped her head back to the alleyway as she heared a can being kicked along the road, she raised her hackles ready for action. A mix between a hiss and a growl emerged from deep within her throat and posion beaded on her tail barbs. Jay cracked her knuckles against the cobblestones hesatating...focusing her energy, sparks... But she was in luck it was only one of the gang she had tangeled with earlyer and he was nurseing a broken claw on his left foreleg. The claw had been snagged or shattered in a tussel, but the "claw socket" was bleeding freely. The entire claw was missing and all that was seen was his toe and a bloody hole. Jureap tensed her spike-blades stiffining and standing strait up along her spine, pay back would be sweet...But she glanced at the Fey. It would have to wait, and the injured arden had taken no notice of them yet. In a hushed voice she apoligized to the Fey, "We have to move, trouble is comeing our way..." Jay made a motion to grab the Fey's scruff and haul her upright, but then the arden glanced up.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size: 12px;">OOC: . I'm going to keep this post short; I want to be able to choose Phet's actions after I know what the other character, the arden, is gonna do. Phet'knis had nothing to offer to the scene... unless Jureap wanted the fey to prattle out more sarcasm. She was inable to move, and was, at the moment, fairly inept with magic. Even the spell she used to keep her wings at bay was not working; the duo spilt out over her back, beautiful and dark. Thus mustering any sort of magical spell would be beyond her. All she did, and all she seemed to be able to do, was stare on silently at the foreign arden. That is, until her eyes snapped shut and again her body was inactive. Her heart beat quietly within its cage. Despite this state of seemingly holy stillness, Phet's body thrummed hot with electric activity. Her aura was simply frantic and this was a sure sign of the hasty inner workings of the feydragon. To most on the outside world, she would seem eerily quiet like a corpse. It was one of those scenes you stepped in where all was unearthly still, so much that you couldn't help but doubt it in your head that all was right. </td></tr></table>
(OOC: YES! A NEW POST! HAZZAH! In reply: Oh thats fine I just wanted to give you as much freedom as possible.) Jay's pale, dismal eyes met those of the Arden, he reconised her at once as to be expected. They had been playing cards together untill the sun had come up and things turned sour. The arden was of a stockier build and resembled a clouded lepoerd, with patches of silver, gray, and black mixed into his pelt. His eyes were a crisp lemon yellow, and one of his ears seemed to have been severed from the nerves and tendents as it hung limply next to his head. He had no wings and his tail flame was unimpressive and about golfball sized, symbolising his lack in magical skills, the flame flickered a weak yellow. He was in his feral form and was hesatant to put any weight on his left fore leg. His body froze the moment he spotted Jureap. His words oozed out of his mouth, <span style='color:yellow'>"Ah, the little thillie from our card game, and look a friend too! Oh she dosen't look like she's in good shape, you'd better help her quick. It would be a shame if something happened to you and she was left stranded!"</span> Jay grabbed the fey's scruff and through a mouthfull of fur she spat back at him, "I don't imagen I will be having any trouble, especaily not from the likes of you..." While in contact with the fey she knew that if she lost control her magic it would not back fire on anybody she was touching. Her magic would never do anything to put herself in danger. And she could attack the dull Arden if she must. Jay struggled with the dead weight of Phet'knis, Jureap had never been intended to serve as a steed. Her back was covered in spines, her tail was barbed, and she was definetly under the average size of most dragons, 'knis was thankful a little smaller but not by much. If an elephant ever got the urge to try and carry a rino they would probaly be in a similer stituation to jay now. So although she was doing her best to back away from the Arden with the fey danggling from her mouth, the going was slow, and akward.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size: 12px;">OOC: Again, sorry for the delay. Asleep at the wheel, I am. Overhead the two dragons spoke in contemptuous tones, and as much as she might like, Phet'knis was unable to contribute to the conversation at the moment. Her body was nothing more than a bag of sand, wet and heavy, and it offered the lukuo nothing more than a mouthful of gritty, foul-tasting weight. At least she was a feydragon of appreciable size. In Jureap's jaws, the little thill hung with her small wings shrouding her body and her characteristic horns dragging on the soiled ground. The late morning wind had picked up in the past hour and now the sky began to free itself of its watery weight as little raindrops fell from above. The rain did not promise to bring a full-fledged storm, but was more like spring's segue showers. Pitter-patter, it gently poured. As if awoken by this chilly onslaught, the little fey slowly came to with a slight shake of her noggin. She hadn't known what she had expected to see upon awakening, but certainly the feeling of being held by the scruff was not in the plans; she squirmed and struggled in Jay's hold wherever they were, be it still in front of the enraged arden or in some tight alleyway. Hmn, so much for a grateful rider! </td></tr></table>
OOC: I've got my Art AP test on Tuseday and my English AP test in on Thursday I will try to be on but things might be a little crazy sorry for any delay! And I think I've decided that Jureap is going to kill the Arden and then the two can escape to a safe places to nurse their wounds. What comes next? Jureap felt Phet'knis struggling in her mouth and panicked. This was no time for her to make things difficult, the carrying already being awkward because of the size issue, and the fact the Jureap was in fact blind. Jay’s neck jerked lower to the ground whenever the ‘kins struggled, each time the fey was in danger of being dropped. Jureap wished that she could lay the fey across her back and carry her that way, but her spikes made that impossible. Jay was also reluctant to put her back down, but she was quite unable to battle with Phet’knis in her mouth… Jureap feeling that she had hit a dead end with the situation she did something ultimately very stupid. Trusting that the Arden would be preoccupied with his wounded forepaw, she turned her back to him and assumed an awkward, stumbling, trot. Jay was ashamed of herself she was running from a battle, however it was to save a life. Jureap shook her head, since when was she a hero anyways? And then suddenly a ripping sensation hit Jureap’s back and hind legs. The Arden attacked her from behind and his gravitational force had knocked Jureap to the ground and sent the fey flying from her grasp. Jay saw Phet'knis form hit the ground with a loud thump and panicked as her electrical force flared and then vanished. Jay roared flailing beneath the bulk, but smiled when she realized that he had surly impaled himself on her spikes. Jureap struggled to right herself, the Arden on top of her racking his paws down her back and tearing flesh. Jay managed to face the Arden and dig her hind claws into his belly, kicking outward her claws ripped out chucks of flesh and fur from his abdomen. Blood streaked their faces and pooled around his stomach. Jureap was certain the wound she had inflicted upon him would turn out to be fatal. If she kicked again she could easily force his abdomen open and tare out his entrails. She found her tail and raised it, this would be a quick fight but as she looked back at the fey she was uncertain if it had been worth the consequences.
<table width="90%" cellpadding=10><tr><td style="background-color: darkcyan;"> <font face=verdana color=gold style="font-size:15pt; font-family: serif; line-height:6pt; font-weight: strong;"> p h e t ' k n i s . m o i</font></td></tr> <tr><td> <font face=verdana style="font-size: 12px;">OOC: i'm so sorry about the forever wait. i miss jureap. i think they should hide out somewhere, or run until they find some sort of water source. even in the Black Market, spilt blood is a big deal. She had just been stirring... and then the world collapsed on itself, the monumental black finding its way back over her body, over her mind, over all. While there might have been pain in such a forceful catapult, Phet'knis experienced none of it until she woke, which was only shortly after. Her body bore itself the wounds of a tilghe fight and the bumps of an airborne journey. Groggily, she roused her head and thought that enough was damn enough. The tumble had flung the thill into a pile of rotting wood, old crates from shipments past. Thus, in the woody abyss, she did not see Jureap and immediately became panic-struck. Where was the silly thill? Perhaps she'd regained her senses and left Phet'knis to the 'dogs'. Hopefully. But the scent of blood and sounds of fight were hardly any reassurance at all. But the sight she came upon after making passed the crates was more than she wanted to take. It wasn't the spills of crimson making ground luminous and cherry-flooding red that held her aback so. By now, she'd grown accustomed to that. Jureap was covered in the other arden's body juices and hell, they weren't going to get away all that quickly with murder. Her eyes widened. <font color=gold>"EY! Niotie, we need out noaw!"</font> The commotion would surely be bringing about somebody or another, particularly now that it was the thick of the afternoon. </td></tr></table>
