Broken

Augustus · 03-22-2012, 10:24 AM

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ooc WC: 452.

Augustus

Augustus’s brows were furrowed with concern as he helped Ciara into the den. His eyes darted about, searching for the alabaster from of the Delta. He was in a near panic, his worry poisoning his every movement. Terra’s stench filled the cavern, and his heart began to leap in his chest. His muzzle wrinkled with the smell. Surely Deuce would come for Ciara? Instead it was the sable beta, Soran who did so. His eyes, though they could not meet the woman’s, searched her face in a near fit of angered panic. “Where is Deuce!?” He half-roared, before his yellow, green-flecked pools darted about the den’s expanse again. His attention was torn back as he watched Soran comfort and ease Ciara. He did not think Soran would cause her harm, but he was wary, watching her every move. Could they not see that Ciara was in agony? “The cougar.” He growled in explanation, cutting in, for fear of Ciara’s injuries. Now was not the time for conversation. “It slammed her into a rock…I think I heard bones breaking.” He said in a rush, remembering that moment, seeing her tossed into the air like a rag doll. He had only been able to look out of the corner of his eyes, but it was enough. The sound itself had filled in the rest. It was treacherous country living so close to the mountains, and the landscape was often littered with boulders. One such one had caused the more grievous of wounds.

He was relieved when Soran finally called for Deuce herself. Surely the call of her mate would be more effective than one of his own, especially when his would be colored by manic anger and panic. His heart skipped a beat when finally the elder white female emerged. “Help her!” He pleaded, his voice husky with urgency and misuse. His snout wrinkled at the salve, and her bi-pedal form. It made him uneasy, but he did not question the woman. He watched her every move intently, however, his pelt bristled and body tense. His eyes darted from Ciara’s face to Deuce, eager to step in wherever he might be needed, a strong shoulder perhaps, a paw to bite down on? He would offer up anything to see her healed, beginning to feel guilty for her injuries. He should have tried harder to get the cat’s attention. Why did it go only for Ciara and leave him? He should have ripped the beast apart, and though it lay dead now he wanted to punish it more for what it had done, wanted to render it unrecognizable, but it would not help. The feeling would remain to plague him until Ciara was well again.

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