Wherry chase...or not?

Jungle (#11945)
Thick, humid and cast in perpetual shadow, the jungle is teeming with the sounds of avian life. The undergrowth is thick, making passage through difficult at best. Howver, there seems to be no sign of any sort of tunnelsnakes, though there is evidence of small sport whers.
It is a winter evening.

Evening has come and most of the camp is starting to settle in for the evening. Crafters are seated around a fire, eating, chatting and all in all shooting the bull. Dalaynia. however, is not in that nice little group. Nope, she's waiting outside her tent with a rope in hand.

Iasri is making her way from washing herself. Again, and again and again. Her short hair is wet from the water, and the stink of human waste from cleaning out those toliets all day is finally gone. In fact, she had changed her clothes, looked a lot fresher than usual. But the fact that she had skipped her dinner to go bathed has left her grumpy and tired. But off to Master Dala she goes.

Vostarik comes trudging up to Dalaynia's tent from the opposite direction, thoroughly displeased, hands stinging sore with blisters and splinters. Huff. He didn't make it to dinner either - too busy remaking the gate - so he is cranky and stiff and hungry! As he gets to the tent, he eyes Iasri. Too tired to make a fuss? Probably. "You go first."

Freaking out was what Rozalija does best. But once she got to the camp, she made sure to try her best to settle down. At least things were not flashing in the corner of her eyes like back in the plains. She was huddled off to the side of the other crafters, nearby for safety and her meal half-finished, which she pokes every now and then. "Oh, F-Faranth," she says, glancing up towards Master Dalaynia. Just the sight of her there, and with rope, makes her shudder. Why? Just because. Call it intuition. She sets her bowl aside, turning to glance curiously towards the apprentices approaching.

Dalaynia taps the coiled rope against her thigh as she notes Iasri and then Vosterik. Good appies to not keep her waiting long. "I trust we will not have a repeat of earlier?" she asks as she looks back and forth between the two. "Course, chores ain't finished yet. I've a little task for you two." she notes with a wicked grin. "But since you both arrived her without any whining, I'll let you all bring help if you want."

Iasri blinks, wiping a bit of perspiration off of her forehead before turning around quickly to scan the camp for a friendly face. Oh! Oh! Roza was there. She liked Roza, and even though she knew the girl would freak out at the drop of a hat, any help was good help. "I'll be right back… ma'am." Iasri says, turning to run over towards the other apprentice. "Oh.. hey, Roza! Wanna do something fun! I promise!"

"Help?" Vostarik raises both eyebrows, considering, as he turns to glance back at the gaggle of herders. Hmm. And then Iasri runs off already. Sigh. "Get someone with muscles!" he calls after her.

Dalaynia hmms thoughtfully as Iasri runs after Roz. "This should be interesting." she murmurs softly to herself, though Vos might be able to hear it. In a louder voice "Well, I want you all to go out onto the plains and set a trap for a wherry." Which outta be real fun since there's not much in the way of light, seeing as it's overcast at the moment, though occasionally a pale glow of one of the moons can be seen. "We've some discards from dinner that you can use."

Iasri lets out a small groan as she rejoins the group with Roza. Well crap. "But…" she stutters, shifting her gaze warly out towards the woods with a hard swallow. "Is.. is.. is that safe Master Dala? I mean, with that /thing/ out there. We might die." She's starting to whine, and she starts to sweat. "It's too dark out anyways to catch a wherry." Oh noes!

Vostarik looks weirdly pleased that he's not the only one complaining anymore. Whine mutiny! "Oh, buck up," he says, perhaps a little too pleasantly, as Iasri comes back, even going so far as to clap a hand on her shoulder once or twice. "Whatever's out there probably won't eat more than one of us. Right, Roza?"

Rozalija follows along shyly behind Iasri. "W-wherry hunting?" she says, surprised by Dalaynia's plan, but actually not frightened. "Don't we have someone… more capable of hunting for us?" She glances back towards the group behind her, unaware that there was something else behind this. Glancing up to Vostarik at his comment then, she pales and teeters. "N-no. I don't think it's safe to go out at all. We're… we're all needed." No being eaten! "D-did you ever figure out what that was, Master Dalaynia?"

Dalaynia grins at the trio "Ahh, but this one is said to be all white. One of the seacrafters saw it. Thinks it may be albino or just maybe dark-eyed white. I thought it might be something to investicate. You should be able to see it. It's been sighted out there on the plains. Likely what you all saw out there." she states with a grin "So, should be no worries and all. Just a wherry."

Iasri blinks, first at Vos's handslap onto her shoulder. For a moment, time stops, she stops breathing. Don't worry, it starts again when he removes it, and she lets out a sigh of relief. That was weird. And awkward. "A white wherry?" She finally snaps out of it, knitting her brows and feels stupid. "Thats it? Is that all we saw?" A sniff and she kicks at the ground with a small smirk. "If that's all it is, then sure. I'll go set the trap myself." Easy as pie? Bubbly pie?

Vostarik is just as incredulous. (He would never admit to feeling /stupid./) "A white wherry?" he echoes along with Iasri. Pffff. "Well .. if Iasri thinks she can deal with it on her own, I'd say Roza and I should stay here in camp and rest up for, uh, other things. In the morning."

Rozalija flushes for a moment when their Master clears up their fear. Not a white feline? Well… "R-really?" She ducks her head to hide the blush before she feels it was settling. By then she looks up between each of the other apprentice. "B-but it'd be good to have more people going for… for lookout. M-maybe we'll see it." The thought of it actually makes her more curious, shifting her feet. "I'd like to see white wherry." Unless it was a /killer/ white wherry!

Dalaynia points at finger at Vos's chest and if he doesn't move it's gonna be right in the sternum. "You…are…going…to go out there and help. I want that wherries wings clipped." she states as she eyes him "And if you have a problem with. I'll see to it that you're clipped." she notes "It's going to take all of you." she notes as she hands Roz the rope.

Iasri groans, turning to look at Roza with a skeptical look. She doesn't want to set the trap. She doesn't want to be here. But even better, she doesn't trust Roza with the rope. But instead of being proactive about it, she clamps her mouth and keeps silent. She's not going to be the leader of this crazy train. Oh heck no.

Vostarik shoots Roza a dirty look too, though doing so distracts him from Dalaynia and thus he gets poked soundly in the chest. Ow. "Fine, fine." This is so unfair. He rubs the sore spot on his chest (what is up with women assaulting him, anyway?!), looking wounded. "What's so cool about this wherry, anyway? I mean, it's white. So?"

Rozalija ducks her face away from Vostarik's dirty look, trying not to flush at all. How was it her fault? And then she's staring up at Dalaynia when she gets the rope, her mouth hanging open just a bit. Whaat? "M-me? I… I don't know anything about traps. I'll… I'll hold it for you, Iasri," she says, turning to the other teen. "It's… It's rare." That was her answer for Vos. "I bet very pretty too."

Dalaynia smiles ever so sweetly at Vos "Because I don't have one." she says in such a manner as if to suggest he's got to be an idiot to not even think of that. "Now, I want a wherry by morning. You hear me? And if not, you'ld better have a sound and good reason for why not. If you're dead. Make sure to get a healer to sign off on your death."

Iasri frowns, giving a small, curt nod Roza's way before starting to turn towards the woods. "I guess we need to get it done now, rather than later." She waves a hand Vos's way. "You can carry the scraps. I'm not doing it." She shoves her hands into her pants pockets with a pout. How lame is this. "Come on," she grumbles. "Lets go."

"What?! Roza gets to carry a rope and I have to carry meat scraps?" Vostarik does not believe in this chivalry thing, clearly. "Fine, whatever." He sighs, turns to head toward the camp's makeshift kitchen. "Stupid wherry."

Again her face goes down and away from Vostarik. "We… we can change." Of course, Dalaynia doesn't make anything better as she glances up with wide frightful amber eyes and pales. But Iasri's voice drags her out of the mood and she calls out to her friend, "C-coming!" She picks up her pace, tripping over a rock and catching herself with her arm out on a passing apprentice, only to blush and run after the other two.

Dalaynia watches the apprentices head off. They should be in for an interesting night, whether or not they find that silly white wherry." She smiles and then disappears into her tent.

Spreading across most of the island is a set of plains flourishing with plant life. It's not completely flat, for the land gently rolls, but never rises very much it seems. To the north a small jungle can be seen in the distance. Towards the east, the plateau can be seen rising above the rest and below that the rift, disappering down into darkness.
It is a winter before dawn.

It's a dark and stormy night. Oh wait, not that was before. It's just dark out. Clumps of grass offer tripping materials and little holes? Well maybe a few here and there, otherwise it's just like any other overgrown field.

The crunch of underbrush signals the entrance of the apprentice three that were treking into the field, Iasri leading with a bunch of grumbling, bitching and moaning. She stops at the edge of the field, scanning the darkness with a slight sniff. "This is so dumb." she grumbles, glancing behind her to make sure there were no stragglers. Or deserters. "Everyone here?"

Vostarik wishes he was a deserter. If he was a deserter he'd be all cool and rogue-y, not sore and splinter-y and carrying a pail full of fatty scraps and offal. Ugh. "Where else would we be? Back there, arguing with Master Dalaynia?" he drawls, wrinkling his nose as he looks down at the bucket. Ugh again. "Faranth, this sucks. I blame Rozalija."

Rozalija was following with her head down on the ground. "I'm here," she says softly to Iasri as she finally reaches the pair. She actually looks around, which only makes her pale even more than she was already. Not that it was really noticeable in the dark. "I… I can't believe she's making us do this at night." She sniffs, and then glances towards Vostarik when he says her name. Again, she flushes and hangs her head. "I'm… I'm sorry." Might as well apologize. She continues, only to find her foot stuck on something behind her, sending her sprawling to the ground.

Rustle…rustle…pounce….pause. Something else seems to be following after Roz. Every now and again, if someone was looking, they'd see the grass moving and then stillness. Not another sound is heard however.

Iasri jumps at the sound of Roza hitting the ground, and she spins around with an angry hiss. "Geeze, watch it guys. I don't want to break a leg here." She leans down to help the other girl up, biting her lip as she does, "You okay? Lets get this thing set as fast as possible. We can just leave it and go somewhere else to sleep or sit around or something."

"/I/ believe it. But that's 'cause I already know she's friggin' crazy," Vostarik grumbles, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of someone falling. "Did you just .. snare yourself with the rope?" If only it was that easy to catch the wherry, too… He hefts the bucket, looking mildly perplexed to find himself in agreement with Iasri. What a weird world this has become. "Yeah, come on. These innards aren't getting any better-smelling."

Rozalija's face was fluctuating from losing blood to gaining massive amounts of it. Again it was splotched with flushes as she accepts Iasri's help, bobbing her head. "S-sorry," she repeats, this time softly to Iasri. "I… I think it was a rock," she mumbles to Vos, sweeping the dirt off her clothes and pausing as she catches something behind her. Maybe? She shudders and hurries after, nearly clinging to both Vostarik and Iasri. "Where… where should we put all this? I-it wasn't too far that we saw it."

There it is again, a little rustling in the grass, maybe it's the wind, and eddy or something. But no. There's a steady sound of movement and pausing that just doesn't really seem like the wind. Except now it's closer to Vos.

Iasri sniffs, pausing to turn behind her. She thought she heard something, but no, she was just hearing things. "Come on. We'll set the snare near the middle of the field. Wherry's like to graze… I think. Shards, it'd be so much better if Issri were here too." She turns towards Roza, hands outstreched. "Can I have the rope?" Pause, "And a suggestion on how to set a freaking trap?"

Vostarik shrugs, glancing about sharply as that whssh-y rustling sound ripples by again. But it subsides. Phew. "Wherries ain't runners. Dalaynia wouldn't've sent us out with a bucket of scraps if we were looking for a /grazing/ wherry," he scoffs, setting the bucket down on the ground as he casts about for .. snare-making things. What? It's not like this is Man vs. Wild. "I dunno. Make a running loop and find some way to prop it a little ways off the ground, I guess. And then we'll bait the middle of it and when the wherry steps up, bam!" A pause. "Or, you know, whatever sound a snare makes when you pull it."

Rozalija was hearing things. She was definitely hearing things. Not only was she jerking her head towards the real rustling sounds, but to the sides at the sound of insects and… who knows. But she was wincing, and eventually turns her attention back to them. "I… I don't know much about wherries. I suppose, it's a scavenger then? Looking for the scrapes Master Dalaynia gave us." She shudders again, snaps her amber eyes around from left to right, and then settles on Vostarik. Boy=knows about traps. "That… that sounds good. I have no idea." She actually looks embarrassed by that fact.

Echoing from somewhere around or under there's a sound of a high pitched scream and then a clacking noise followed by another almost smaller sounding squeal. Course to make thinks better, there's a long growling sound and then suddenly something furry and white has attached itself to Vos's bucket of scraps and is trying to attack it. If anyone actually looks. It's no more than a small feline.


Iasri jumps at the sound of the scream, letting loose a screech of her own, falling over onto her back with a yelp. Oh shards, oh shards, she's going to die! "Run, run run run run." She starts to warble, crawling on her hands and knees away from the other apprentices. She can't see shit, she can't keep calm. Deep down, she wants to throw up. Well, too late. She's dry heaving already from the fear.

"AAAAAAAGH!" Vostarik screams like a little girl, more startled by Iasri's shriek than by the feline attack (since his back was to the bucket). Flail! He spins to look at the thing, all set to run for his life, when: "AAH— hey." Trying to calm his pounding heart and imminent hyperventilation, he steels himself for attack and peers at the thing. "Dude. It's tiny." Not that that means it can't rip his face off. Deep breaths. "Definitely not a wherry. Hey, guys, come /back./" Don't leave him alone with it!

"Eiiiieeee!" Yes, that was Roza's high pitch shrieking. The scream doesn't help, Iasri doesn't help, and definitely not Vostarik. This girl was completely senseless, turning to run. She forgets which way she should be running to and instead finds herself right in Iasri's path. Not seeing the other girl, Roz runs into her, sending herself forward and back on the ground with a loud "Ooof!" and squeak and then silence. Who knows, she probably passed out and didn't hear a word Vos said.

The young feline is happily digging into the scraps and pulls out some of it and plops down onto the ground as it tries to scarf it up. It's growling in it's throat. Mine. Hackles are raised at all the screaming but the feline is standing ground. Of the other scream, nothing is heard for the moment.

Iasri is knocked onto her stomach, the dry heaving finally stopped. She faceplants straight into the ground, cushioned by a lot of grass and dirt, mouth shoved with grit and grime. Oh gross. "Uuf." She attepts to roll onto her back, but has to kick Roza off of her before she does. "Shards.. shards. I think my nose is broken." Her voice sounds muffled, and when she raises a hand to her face, she pulls away to feel something wet. Yep, she's bleeding from her nose. A /lot/ of blood. "Oh FUCK." She screams, for the first time in a while. She must be really panicked. She never uses that word.

Vostarik, now that his life and limbs (and face) are no longer in any sort of clear and present danger, could care less about who's conscious or bleeding. "Aw, look, guys. It's kind of cute." Still a few feet away, he crouches slightly to get a better look at it, squinting. "Kind of mangy, actually. Ew." So much for the petting zoo idea. He glances over his shoulder at the lack of positive response. "Guys?" And finally registers. Oh. "Oh, get a grip. Here, have a napkin." He tugs a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket and tosses it vaguely in Iasri's direction. "What happened to Roza?"

Rozalija gets a good kick off of Iasri, rolling into the grass around them. Once the moment passes, she starts to breath again. Hyperventilating, of course. She's got a scrap on her face from going down, and probably on her knees as well. But besides that she just looks like the dirt was really attached to her. Her eyes snap towards Iasri, lifting her head to take in the other girl's wounds. And the blood. There's another swoon and Roz's head knocks back on the ground. "Ouch. Owowowow." Breath. She lifts her head to rub at the spot, trying to get her sight back as she lifts herself up to a sitting position. "W-w-what is it?" she squeaks towards Vos, keeping her voice low.

The ferel kitten is eyeing Vosterik, with one paw on the meat scraps and then there's a little spitting hiss and a satisfied look wheb Vos goes to look after the girls. Of course, looks of satisfaction are short lived when suddenly the kitten is growling and hissing again as some darkish shape seems to come running out of nowhere. Suddenly, there's a squealing noise and down it goes with a thud. There's heavy breathing and then a weak nickering.

Iasri 's eyes widen, and she lets loose a little whimper, crawling across the ground to where Vos threw the hankerchief. At first, she's worried more about the fact that her nose hurts like none other. The white feline, is looked at warly, but she'd started to calm herself. Until that other noise. "Oh.. oh.. oh.. WHAT was that? Vos.. vos.. we should run." There had to be something /much/ bigger out there.

Vostarik doesn't really notice the other noise, being far too involved in studying the feline. "It's a cat! C'mon, look, it's skin and bones" he all but croons. Trust Vos to fall in love with a mangy feral critter who hisses and spits at him. "What?" He looks back at them again, conveniently away from the darkish shape staggering toward their group. "Dude, you don't have to run away, it's just a little kitt whah!" Dark shape! RIGHT THERE! He falls backward on his ass. So much for running.

Rozalija doesn't want to be alone. So instead of getting up and running off in the opposite direction and most likely getting lost, she crawls after Iasri with a loud whine. "D-don't leave me." Sniffle. There are tears in the apprentice's eyes, which she tries to wipe away and managing to smear dirt on her face. "I-it is cute," she squeaks, getting closer to Vos and his revelation, but she winces at the spitting angry feline. And then big dark thing shows up, and Roz on her knees sways. Thankfully Vos didn't fall on her, and she didn't faint. But she looked close to it. Whimper. Blinking furiously, she gets back to herself and shakes her head. "I-is that a r-runner?" she asks as if not trusting her eyes and ears.

The foal struggles to get up, but it seems that even though no trap was set, and even though it's not a white wherry, it's still caught up in the rope. It whinny's plaintively and struggles again before laying flat on it's side, not moving but breathing heavily. The feline on the other hand has disappeared. Oh wait, no it hasn't it's just up to it's head in meat scraps as it crawls into the bucket.

Iasri is nearly about to pass out from fear, and it is at that point she starts to visibly cry, tears trickling down her face, mixing with the blood that is still leaking out her nose. "I don't wanna die, I don't wanna die." It's only when she watches Roza compose herself, is when she finally struggles to her feet. Deep breathes. "I-I- think it's just a runner.. i think." she's gasping for air between each intake of breath. Man, someone might throw up again

Vostarik is physically compelled to calm down as Rozalija does - he can't be less manly than Roza! - and thus forces himself just to sit up instead of, oh, say, freaking out and running screaming for camp. Which is what he really want sto do. "A runner. Oh, just a runner!" Breathe, Vos. He clambers to his knees, then stands up properly, ignoring the bucket o' cat and moving over to where the foal is lying on its side. "Well, it's .. not dead," he offers, peering at it. "Hey, Iasri, toss me your belt knife. Dumb little bugger's got itself tangled in your rope." He glances back at the foal, both hands linked on top of his head as he considers. "ANyone see, Iunno, angry mama runner anywhere?"

As Vos gets closer to the foal, he might notice a glistening sheen on the poor things neck. There really is no other sound in the darkness, except for the wind and a loud noise coming from the meat scraps. A very raspy sounding purr as the kitten lies there, curled up on it's treasure. The foal watches Vosterik, it's eye practically rolling back in fear. It tries to kick out and get up but is well and truely tangled.

Rozalija was taking deep breaths and counting to herself throughout the entire time. She just wasn't running in blind panic. Her eyes dart to the bucket again, blinking at the feline there. She lifts it a bit, looking in, before realizing the other animal was more important. "T-the rope?" Aww… She flushes with guilt, picking herself off the floor finally and scooting closer, right behind Vostarik. "The poor thing!" she says, moving closer slowly and cooing. "It's okay. Mama?" Blink. "F-faranth, she could be anywhere. W-wild runners might not be too nice." But the baby was getting cooing sounds to calm him.

"Yeah, yeah, hold on." Iasri stumbles to her feet, gasping as she pulls her pocket knife out of her pants, wobbling her way over to Vos, pausing a moment to support herself from stumbling and falling by leaning against him and places it into his hand. "There.. shards. Poor thing." The girl has a soft spot for runners, and she gains enough composure to lean down and stroke the top of the thing's head. "Cut it lose. Before it strangles itself or hyperventalates from stress." She turns around and backs her way towards Roza. This night seems safer in numbers.

Vostarik jumps slightly, startled, as the foal flails about again, but it's not going anywhere. Iasri presses the knife into his hand and then leaves! So not cool. "Fine," huff, "I'll risk my life cutting a freaking wild runner out of a rope. You guys .. keep watch for other runners. If I get trampled I am so making sure you both get demoted," he mutters. He crouches, leaning forward to brace one knee against the foal's neck - no thank you, getting kicked in the face by panicking foal is not his cup of tea either - and sets about cutting the rope away. "Guys?"

The foal lets out a scream as knee contacts neck and knee gets a healthy dose of blood. The foal thrashes around and then is lying still once more, the breathing still heavy. The feline itself is now standing upright and hissing at the sudden scream, the fur standing on end.

At least they were all calming down? Rozalija felt helping the runner was more important than running for her life. She kneels down on the ground again, facing away from the thrasthing legs and making sure not to touch it just yet. "Is… Is that blood?" she squeaks, eyes widening on the neck. Too late. She looks up to Vostarik as his knee connects, unable to see if it really was that or something else. Iasri's presence, of course was comforting, but still she jumps, hands fluttering to her throat. "It's… It's dead! It's dead! Oh, F-faranth." She doesn't even recognize it was still breathing.

Iasri lets out a gutteral yell, her strength coming back in such force that she nearly shoves Roza to one side as she comes barrling foward. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" She's bellowing, giving away any sort of stealth for that elusive white wherry. She's suddenly at Vos's side, in his face, her bloody gross hands pawing at his arm. "Give me my knife back, give it back. You killed it! I can't believe you." If it were light out, Vos would be able to see the tears starting to brim at her eyes again, but thank Faranth for the nighttime. She's inches from the boy's face. Kissin lengh. But gosh darnit, there ain't no kissin'. "Give. My. Knife. Back." Someone's pissed.

The foal isn't dead, at least not yet, but it is hurt and it is struggling again. There's a plaintive whicker. Obviously it is getting weaker, but it does continue to struggle. THough full of pain, there is a fire in it's eyes. All the screaming from the people isn't helping the feline any either. Little thing runs, but then is slinking back. It's loath to leave all that food.

"AAAAAH." Okay, so Vostarik wasn't expecting /that/ kind of reaction, from the foal /or/ from Iasri. He scrambles backward, arms flailing as if to keep the girl at bay even as he retreats from the foal. "I didn't kill it! Faranth! Get out of my face!" Even over her bellowing he can hear the huffing breaths of the foal. "Have your stupid knife, agh." He all but throws it at her (handle-first), backing toward Rozalija. "It's not /dead./ Jeez." He looks down at the blood on his pants, then back over toward the foal, which still isn't moving. Great. "Well. Anyone have some bandages handy, or am I going to have to take off my shirt?"

The others' reactions make her jump even more, and there's a low whimper in Rozalija's throat at the mess. The tears start up again, and the sniffling. "H-how could you? The poor thing. The poor baby." She goes to lay her hands on its matted mane, only for it to start moving again. "F-faranth!" Her favorite word, of course. She breaths again, shaking her head furiously. I… I have none! We have to get it back to Master Dalaynia. She'll know what to do with him. With both of them." Yes, kitten is glances at again. She shushs and coos and gives Vos big eyes. "Hurry up. Your s-shirt will have to do." Sniffsniff. "We can't be looking for things with it like this." And since he was going to take care of that, she moves to make sure the rope is actually tossed far from the foal.

Ow. Ow. The thought of Vos shirtless would be hot. Super hot, if they weren't in the middle of a field in the dark, next to a dying fowl, with blood all over themselves. Yes, everything sure is realtive. "Give me your shirt Vos." Iasri is dead cool, motioning to the Senior Apprentice with her knife, and she turns back to examine the foul with a calculated air. "Hm. How are we going to drag this thing back? Honestly drag it? It's going to be shardin' heavy."

The feline darts to one side as the rop is flung, but is never far away from the meat. It's his after all. The foal snorts a moment and then tries to struggle upright now that the rope is gone. It manages to swing up onto chest and is soon trying to stand upright.

Vostarik sputters at Roza. "How could I? I didn't do anything!" Most of the sputtering is muffled by the fact that he's pulling his shirt over his head, though. Voila! Milk-white skinny boy-torso for all to see! He practically glows in the dark. "Here," he thrusts the bundle of cloth at Iasri, looking more cold and pasty than sexy (he wishes). "We're not gonna /drag/ it!" /Now/ he looks appalled. "Shells! Look, it's already trying to get up. Here." He stoops to grab the discarded pieces of rope. "I'll .. put together a halter, we can lead it back. You two can prop it up if it needs it."

Rozalija gives Vostarik an honest-to-goodness glare. Yup, this girl can actually glare. "You should have looked him over, first!" Stupid apprentice. She wipes at her eyes again as fresh tears fall. Oh, hey, a nightlight! Her eyes are drawn for a moment before they drop back to the more important subject. She gets up to her knees as the colt starts getting up to his feet. "That's good," she coos softly, trying to help but not frighten him, making sure that he wasn't about to go bolting. "T-that's a good idea," she says, if a bit reluctant, to Vostarik with a head bob. "I'll… I'll make sure to get the kitty." While they're tending, Iasri with the bandages, she makes sure to move back slowly and go to the bucket, making sure to scoop the feral cat up in the bucket.

Snatching the shirt away with a quick glance back at a shirtless Vos (nom nom nom) Iasri goes to ripping his shirt into strips, leaning over the struggling foal and wrapping it around it's wounded parts. She'd done stuff like this before when she was living at home, so it's no surprise that she gets this done quickly, albeit not so neatly. Fresh blood stains her shirt and pants, and she's trying her best to wipe it on the grass as she goes. "Come on. Roza, you get one side, I'll get the other. Vos can lead it." A glance down at that cat in the bucket… "Oh, Roza.. really, do we /have/ to bring it along? Aren't you /afraid/ of cats?"

It's likely a good thing the foal is weak, because his struggles with the bandaging aren't all that severe. There's a definant rolling of the eyes but he's too weak to run. Kitten on the other hand is spitting and attacking at Roz's hand, his biggest problem is an overly stuffed belly that's quite distended making him look all roly-poly.

Vostarik tries not to look like he's actively shivering as he hurriedly yanks a few strategically placed knots in the ropes to turn it into .. something like a halter. It has a noseband and a crownpiece, anyway. "All right, here," and he swoops in before the foal can fuss too much, tugging a last knot around for a makeshift throatlatch. And he still even has a bit to use as a lead rope! "Ready to go?" He looks over at Roza and the cat. "Watch out with the cat. I'm not taking off my pants for you all to use as bandages if you start bleeding, too."

Iasri teaters on one side of the foal, following Vos back towards camp. She's tired, and smelly and bloody and cranky, so hopefully, just hopefully Dala would let them sleep in camp tonight. Instead of sending them back out into the wild to search for some elusive wherry. "Ug, I'm about to pass out. Too tired." Trudge, trudge, trudge. Back to camp. "And no Vos. Keep your shardin' pants on. No one wants to see that."

And so they tottered on back to camp. The end!

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