[SRP] Going South [Scotch, Seraphiel, Yulia Belrose]

[Strifeling]

(SRP of Scotch, Seraphiel, and Yulia Belrose)
+Golden Gaze

 

[Strifeling]

Under the shadows of a giant spruce, Scotch stirred, half asleep and half awake. It was morning already, but the sun's rays could not reach him beneath the tree.

It was cold. The ground was solid -- frosted, even -- and vapor formed as he exhaled. Scotch knew he was luckier than most -- his sturdier, stockier build and longer coat helped him tolerate colder climates and temperatures better than many other soquili -- but this morning was especially bitter, even for him. The tree provided him with much-needed shelter, but it wasn't quite enough. For a moment, the thought of going home crossed his mind.

"Or maybe it's just time to go south," he groggily muttered to himself. He tried to shake the sleep away and yawned widely. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a small, rosy figure beside him. He looked down at her and cracked a grin. It looked like the little usdia had curled up next to him sometime in the night, seeking warmth. Of course, it was most likely that she hadn't even done it consciously. He had found her, a young adult, traveling to explore the world before it was her time to return home to the Belrose family. He had been lonely, enjoying the travel but disliking the solitude, and she was tiny, so tiny and helpless against predators and vicious soquili even in full adulthood. What had started out as a mutually beneficial agreement -- her company for his protection -- had become friendship. Scotch wondered exactly how close they were.


Scotch Word Count: 262
 

[Strifeling]

Winter was coming already.

Seraphiel hated it. He hated the cold, hated how it frosted his eyes shut, and hated the snow. But most of all, he hated the hunger and labor that came with it. He really was not built for this -- for any sort of labor -- and it was not in his nomad's nature to stockpile resources while constantly on the move. He had not passed by any herds in quite some time now so was left to fend for himself. This region was not usually so empty, but he had never been here in the winter before; maybe everyone had moved out of the region when the frosts hit. After all, food was scarce. Still, it was strangely empty. Strangely quiet.

Seraphiel stopped and stood still. He could never be sure what dangers lurked in forests during the winter.


Seraphiel Word Count: 144
 

[Strifeling]

Beside Scotch, the small figure stretched. She felt slight movement by her side and was suddenly awake. Oops. So that's why she was so warm. Scotch's radiating body heat had been too comfortable and inviting for her cold, sleeping self to resist. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed he wouldn't notice, she hoped, but Scotch wasn't dumb and wasn't unobservant either. But maybe he'd let her pretend.


Yulia Word Count: 68
 

[Strifeling]

Scotch grinned again. So she was waking up, too.

"Yulia, wake up," he whispered in her ears, nudging her into full wakefullness.


Scotch Word Count: 22
 

[Strifeling]

Everything was silent except for the wind howling through the trees. This did not make Seraphiel feel any better, however. The silence was just as chilling as the air and it unsettled him. A sense of discomfort -- for he wouldn't admit to fear -- stirred deep in his chest and bones. He could have sworn he had heard birds singing not long back. It had been after sunrise.

But it was still very early morning. The sun's rays spread low, filtering horizontally through the trees and blinding him. It had not been up for long.

Seraphiel shivered, but not from the cold. He had heard stories like this -- stories of the silence before the storm, of how the forest would sound dead, like nothing, when a predator was on the prowl. Seraphiel could think only of one sort of creature that could have such a profound effect, and a skinwalker was a creature he did not want to encounter.

Maybe it was time to backtrack and head south after all.


Seraphiel Word Count: 172
 

[Strifeling]

"Just a little while longer? Please? You know you don't want to get up yet," Yulia mumbled at Scotch, half pleading and with her eyes still closed. It was too cold this morning. She ignored his request for her to wake up and instead snuggled closer to his coat, burying her face in one of his giant, fluffy fetlocks. "I'm too cold to move. Warm me up, okay?" Her voice came out muffled, but she knew he understood when he laughed. Yulia couldn't help but smile. Scotch was a good friend, and as patient and doting with her as her own parents and siblings. As the baby of the family -- and that was only in the sense that she was an usdia -- she had gotten away with more than she should have.

Yulia listened over the sound of her own breath and heartbeat. Scotch's rhythm was slightly slower than hers, and she listened to it for a moment, taking comfort. But something was wrong. It was too quiet this morning. She concentrated, and listened harder. Why weren't there any birds singing this morning...?


Yulia Word Count: 185
 

[Strifeling]

Limping through the forest, Golden Gaze cursed her luck. Her tentacle ears were pressed flat against the back of her head and her neck, while her tail dragged on the ground behind her, her normally soft and glossy fur now dirtied by the soil and the brush she had been running through. The golden-orange charm gleamed on the tip of her mutated tail.

She was in her cat form, her extra eyes closed shut and moving as quietly as possible. Silently, blood dripped from a massive gash in her side, but internally she breathed a sigh of relief. It looked much worse than it felt, and would probably heal without a scar. But she was exhausted. She preferred to travel in her soquili form, with its longer strides and resulting improved stamina for long distances, but right now silence was of utmost importance.

Golden Gaze risked a glance over her shoulder and paused, straining her ears to hear. She couldn't hear anything. That was good, she thought, and relaxed.

Or was it? Golden Gaze paused again, straining her ears once more. She heard nothing -- not even the sound of birds or the chittering of insects in the brush. Her breath caught in her throat and she whirled around.


Golden Gaze Word Count: 208  

[Strifeling]

Seraphiel stood in the shadow of the trees, half-hidden by low branches and leaves. He dared not to breathe. There, only a few paces ahead of him, was a skinwalker. Skinwalker! His muscles were tense with nervous energy, ready to run. For a moment, he forgot he had wings. This walker in front of him appeared landed, with no wings on its feline back, but he had dealings with cats before. Seraphiel knew they could jump forward many times their length, or leap upwards with only a moment's notice. Some could climb trees. He wasn't sure he could take off in time unscathed.

He quivered, wondering if this creature could smell him. It seemed he was still downwind. What sort of abomination was this, with tentacles on its head and a mouth for a tail? Sera cringed inwardly, knowing he himself didn't have the appearance of some sort of heavenly angel -- his extra eyes were wide open and alert, pupils constricted to points -- but he was no skinwalker.

But wait -- was this cat injured? Seraphiel squinted, bringing his head slightly forward (only as much as he dared), trying to get a better look. Blood dripped from its side, and it didn't look good. But it made his own chances better. He edged sideways in the brush, never taking his eyes off the creature. He paused when it suddenly twisted through the air and his breath caught in his throat. Could it see him? Smell him? Sera mentally prepared himself to flee or fight.


Seraphiel Word Count: 253  

[Strifeling]

Golden Gaze remained silent, nostrils flaring, and opened her extra eyes to better scan the forest. It didn't help much -- all she could see were trees in every direction, some areas shadowed with thicker shrubs and low branches, swaying slightly in the thin breeze but otherwise silent. She had thought she had heard something, breathing maybe, or the snap of a distant twig. Her sense of hearing was more like that of a cat's than a soquili's, acute and sensitive to high frequencies, with ears that could twist in every direction.

She raised her nose to the air, inhaling deeply for a whiff of her pursuer. Her position low and close to the ground didn't help much, but she didn't dare shift. Her feral form was more agile than her soquili form, and smaller -- harder to hit as a moving target.


Golden Gaze Word Count: 141  

[Strifeling]

Sera stood still, watching the feline sniffing the air, wound like a spring, but only too late realized that the danger wasn't in front of him. It came from behind him.

All of a sudden, snarling erupted a few paces to his rear, right from the middle of his blind spot. "Look out!" he heard the beige feline skinwalker desperately call out to him in a high-pitched feminine voice, and in his surprise he almost whipped his head to look around at her. Meanwhile the eyes on his shoulders swiveled in the direction of the new threat as he twisted out of the way, moving not a moment too soon.

A massive paw slashed at Seraphiel's body and he curled his wings to shield himself. Luckily, the claws only scraped through his feathers, barely letting blood. It happened so quickly, Sera didn't event manage to get a good look at the attacker. He beat his massive wings towards the soil, trying to lift himself off the ground in the limited space of the forest.


Seraphiel Word Count: 174  

[Strifeling]

Golden Gaze's mouth was dry. She could feel her heart in her throat, beating and throbbing rapidly with the sudden rush of fear and adrenaline. In front of her were two massive soquili, one half-angel half-demon with six wings, and behind him -- a skinwalker that towered over the angeni stallion. She hadn't even heard it approaching. The beast had clearly stayed downwind, sentient and clever enough to hide its scent trail.

Golden Gaze hesitated, frozen in place, watching as the skinwalker swiped at the other soquili. Her ears flattened against her head and she crouched down, wound like a spring, unsure if she should run to help the stallion or run away in the opposite direction. Golden Gaze would normally never turn her back on someone who needed help, but she didn't know if they'd make it out alive in a fight -- this beast wasn't the one responsible for her injury, but she was already weakened and had a smaller stature, so she was already at a disadvantage. She wasn't much of a fighter in the first place, and unlike her the stallion ahead of her had wings; he could fly away, but she could only run, and she'd need a head start at that.

She watched and battled with herself internally, unable to decide what to do.


Golden Gaze Word Count: 218  

[Strifeling]

Seraphiel was unable to take off. The branches were too low and the shrubbery too cramped, especially with the skinwalker swiping at him. His wing-beats were not useless, however; the powerful thrusts of all his six large wings in unison beat the skinwalker back and gave Seraphiel a moment to put some space between himself and the beast.

Sera caught his breath, now a few paces away with his back turned to the beige catwalker that had called out to him -- he trusted an injured cat with a charm on its tail more than the aggressive creature in front of him -- and got a good look at the beast that had attacked. It was a bearwalker that towered above him, snout dripping with blood as it snarled. Its feet were soaked with red.

The beast lunged at him again, jaws snapping, but this time Sera was prepared and quickly whirled out of its way and out of reach. The skinwalker changed course, its claws gouging out the soil of the forest floor, and made a lung at the beige catwalker.


Seraphiel Word Count: 180  

[Strifeling]

The stallion had dodged the skinwalker's attacks, but in her hesitation Golden Gaze had lost her opportunity. The skinwalker turned its attention to her and hurtled forward with a lumbering gait but extreme speed. Her eyes widened as she realized the skinwalker's intent.

She didn't have enough time to react. All she could do was drop low to the ground, all eyes squeezed shut, hoping that the bear would miss.


Golden Gaze Word Count: 70  

[Strifeling]

Seraphiel's eyes followed the bearwalker, darting between attacker and target. The catwalker in front of him had no chance. She was already injured and flattened on the forest floor in fear, waiting near-certain death. The catwalker had saved him from injury with her warning only a few moments prior. If he did nothing, she would surely die. Seraphiel cursed under his breath.

With almost no hesitation, he made his decision. He lunged forward to intercept the attack, using the gust generated by his wings to help, and collided with the bearwalker with such force that he knocked it off balance. Its feet slipped and it fell onto its side, landing with a heavy thud. It lay there for a moment, momentarily winded.

Wasting no time, Seraphiel turned his body to the cat but never took his eyes off the bearwalker.

"Come on," he hissed urgently, "Run! We have to go!"


Seraphiel Word Count: 150