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Jefferson Soul · 04-12-2010, 10:24 AM

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Dawali, Ember, and Geneva (I think). Continued from here (thus dated April 11).

He was scared. Just as he had never stopped moving, neither did the pounding of his heart against his chest. Still she was losing blood, still she was gagging and choking on shallow breaths. There had been no alarm made to Phoenix Valley, no calls sent desperately over the pack lands for help; they would only be a liability to him, and he couldn't risk being weighed down or slowed. Never before had Jefferson seen his packmates as such -- but never before had he been so scared, so terrified. He couldn't risk stopping for those who wouldn't know what to do.

In his mad rush with her in his arms, Jefferson had bolted to the central ranch house where the two had spent so many nights, so many afternoons. He leapt the fence and dashed past the now-soggy haystack -- where she'd pinned him down once and teased him, he remembered so clearly -- and escaped the rain for mere seconds as he yanked a horse from the stable. What was its name? The cyclops couldn't remember. He didn't care to remember, he just needed it to run. Jefferson was never much of a horseback rider, but for now he would have to make do. AniWaya was far, but it was his only hope. It was the only place he felt safe enough to go.

The stallion neighed and bucked its arguments at first, but with desperate coaxing, quickly submitted. Riding on its back was bumpy, far more animated than the brute's two-legged run; he could only hold Geneva close to try and keep her still. He bent over her, scarred arm cradling her tight to his chest, his other hand clumped in the stallion's mane. It was one of the AniWayan horses they'd been housing for the tribe, he realized -- it probably knew its way home. Still no words were exchanged between they, the girl juggling consciousness. His scarred features were locked, stiff like cement; his eyes were both open still, off-white torn eye sightless while its electric green partner stared out into the heavy rain.

The terrain was difficult, and the journey was far; every second that passed by felt like an eternity, and as the afternoon stretched on, Jefferson realized how terribly time wished to work against him. He would haste the horse faster, but it was no use. AniWaya arrived for him when it did, and he did not stop at their borders. Towards the town square he went, what he thought to have been in the best direction. Unstopping, he released a tragic cry into the sky, alerting for Dawali or Ember or whomever could help him. Someone. Anyone. Hurry.

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