09-25-2012, 04:28 PM
OOC: Soo this is set the day before the hurricane hits (20th September). I guess she's stuck between Adella's Rage and the Village. No post order 
IC:
Everly should probably have given up on trying to shake out her fur and hair a while ago. The storm had been building for some time, although the siamese pointed wolf couldn't remember if it had been the pounding rain which had arrived first or the wind. As she'd listened from the best natural shelter she could find, the storm seemed to have many voices: roars, howls, shrieks, bone-jarring rumbles. The sudden crack of a branch above had forced her to move.
She shook her narrow head again but paid no attention to the sparkling droplets which went flying in several directions. As much as Ev loved nature it was now the dark side of nature itself which made her decide to make her way towards the village. Towards company and strength in numbers. But it wasn't just a desire not to be alone with the wild weather which had started her trudging towards the inner sanctum of Aniwaya. Everly had joined the pack as a healer, and duty would surely be calling in a storm like this one. Packmates to patch up; that was within Ev's abilities, but life-threatening injuries would mean thinking back to the teachings of her father, long gone.
The merciless rain seemed determined to temporarily remove the woman's vision; no matter how many times she blinked, raindrops coated her eyelashes or dripped from her fringe. With the loud gusts on top of that Everly was essentially two senses down, feeling and smelling her way through the territory, moving slowly. Too slowly.
That was how she got stuck. She paused to listen to the surge of a river, to try and gauge how wide the flooded area would be and whether she needed to take a less direct route to the village to avoid it. Unfortunately she hadn't avoided it at all. There was no river water rushing over the shorter than average woman, but there was mud. And the mud seemed as determined as the storm itself.
Everly tried yanking her foot out; she tried moving it slowly, rotating it and angling it. Still the thick mud held her in a surprisingly strong grip for dirt and liquid. The canary eyed woman persisted, wiggling her right leg, trying to make sure the left one wasn't about to be held hostage too. None of it did any good. Everly was well and truly stuck. She had left her natural shelter to aid others and now she was the one in trouble. Her leg ached from the effort of trying to free her foot, and after a particularly vigorous and frustrated yank, she fell, adding a bruise on her rump to the protests from her leg. There the woman sat, one foot submerged in mud and her head in her paws.
Too soon she had to rise again to make sure the rest of her body wasn't captured by the mud, and it was only then that she howled, hoping someone had more experience with swamps or fens than she did.
(504 words)
IC:
Everly should probably have given up on trying to shake out her fur and hair a while ago. The storm had been building for some time, although the siamese pointed wolf couldn't remember if it had been the pounding rain which had arrived first or the wind. As she'd listened from the best natural shelter she could find, the storm seemed to have many voices: roars, howls, shrieks, bone-jarring rumbles. The sudden crack of a branch above had forced her to move.
She shook her narrow head again but paid no attention to the sparkling droplets which went flying in several directions. As much as Ev loved nature it was now the dark side of nature itself which made her decide to make her way towards the village. Towards company and strength in numbers. But it wasn't just a desire not to be alone with the wild weather which had started her trudging towards the inner sanctum of Aniwaya. Everly had joined the pack as a healer, and duty would surely be calling in a storm like this one. Packmates to patch up; that was within Ev's abilities, but life-threatening injuries would mean thinking back to the teachings of her father, long gone.
The merciless rain seemed determined to temporarily remove the woman's vision; no matter how many times she blinked, raindrops coated her eyelashes or dripped from her fringe. With the loud gusts on top of that Everly was essentially two senses down, feeling and smelling her way through the territory, moving slowly. Too slowly.
That was how she got stuck. She paused to listen to the surge of a river, to try and gauge how wide the flooded area would be and whether she needed to take a less direct route to the village to avoid it. Unfortunately she hadn't avoided it at all. There was no river water rushing over the shorter than average woman, but there was mud. And the mud seemed as determined as the storm itself.
Everly tried yanking her foot out; she tried moving it slowly, rotating it and angling it. Still the thick mud held her in a surprisingly strong grip for dirt and liquid. The canary eyed woman persisted, wiggling her right leg, trying to make sure the left one wasn't about to be held hostage too. None of it did any good. Everly was well and truly stuck. She had left her natural shelter to aid others and now she was the one in trouble. Her leg ached from the effort of trying to free her foot, and after a particularly vigorous and frustrated yank, she fell, adding a bruise on her rump to the protests from her leg. There the woman sat, one foot submerged in mud and her head in her paws.
Too soon she had to rise again to make sure the rest of her body wasn't captured by the mud, and it was only then that she howled, hoping someone had more experience with swamps or fens than she did.
(504 words)