sharpen up your teeth

Vesper · 04-07-2012, 10:14 PM

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This is backdated to April 4th. The two wolves involved are Kalle and Ludus.
Sorry for the wait on this... Assuming one's killed, up to you who gets 'em. :3

Wolf attacks. Vesper had known something foul was in the air when the Triarii had been beaten and blinded, but she hadn’t thought for outsiders to attack them so brazenly—riding almost up to the goddamn mansion. It had become more than a few fool strangers testing the fire clan; this was bordering on war. Her hackles rose at the thought as she crunched at the deer bone, splintering it between her secui jaws. She’d heard the stories from Myrika’s lips as well as others’, but despite her fascination with the tales of battles and blood, she wasn’t anymore.

Raven claws grabbed suddenly at her ear, tugging its silver ring. The hybrid lifted her head to look questioningly at him, but Stark only croaked hoarsely and wheeled back around. While that had her rising on all fours, her leader’s cry had her sprinting for the woods, squinting in the light of the rising sun. She lifted her own voice to rally those nearby.

Finally, she had a chance to fight, and she rushed eagerly toward the sounds of snarls with her lips curled back. But then she heard it—the thunder of hooves, the snorting of horses. She stopped short suddenly, then gasped when an arrow stuck in the earth before her, where it might have fallen between her shoulder blades had she taken another step.

Myrika Tears · 04-10-2012, 06:03 AM

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(448)
Doesn't matta to meeee. ♥ ALSO AWKWARD STUPID MYRIKA POST. First two paragraphs = skip plz

Myrika is by Raze!

Her world had changed drastically in the past few days. While it had been changing for some time, the most drastic and apparent of those changes had occurred since the attack. Myrika had not rested easy since then; on the contrary, she had gotten little sleep over the past week. Inferni felt like a safe place, but the Praetorian had come to understand -- with shocking quickness -- that this safety was ensured only by the actions of those within the clan. Ithiel was right -- what use was a Praetorian incapable of defending herself? And so, she'd trained harder, at every opportunity, hoping to amass what skill she could before the next attack -- whenever that was.

At least they had been given warning -- while Myrika had seen only the aftermath of the first attack, she understood its message. They hadn't killed Emmanuelle, when they could have -- and easily. It had been a warning and a test, as Ithiel saw. Her cousin had taken steps to prepare her, but there was no real preparing for this. As Myri loped toward the source of the alarm, she listened. Hoofbeats, cries, and other noises of distress reached her ears. She moved faster, extending her long Optime legs into an all-out run.

The mahogany-haired woman lurked on the outskirts of the fray, armed with only the thick wooden staff Ithiel had procured for her. She was not certain of the thing's origins and had been practicing only a week. Her first day of practice, too, hadn't even involved a live opponent -- Ithiel was still too bruised and battered from that initial attack to do anything but give her pointers with it. He'd said the weapon would work well for her reach, but now that the moment was here, it felt foreign and heavy in her hands. She supposed it ought to feel heavy -- it was thicker near one end, a battering end meant to pummel an opponent.

In the distance, she spied a wolf on horseback -- the horse was moving at a slow trot, and the rider slowed her further as he notched an arrow, clearly aiming for the best shot possible. Another followed closely behind him and soon overtook him, bearing down on Myrika on a plump horse. He unsheathed a sword as he rode, swinging it toward Myrika as the horse drew near. The Praetorian crouched, waited, and leapt out of the horse's path entirely, though she only narrowly avoided the swing of the sword. She yelped, forgetting the staff entirely, and took several long steps backward from the horse and rider, even as the man turned around again and bore down on her.

Ithiel de le Poer · 04-10-2012, 06:31 AM

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fufufufufufufufufuffffffuu skip first three paragraphs stupid introspection ajgiejrgejgeijg SORRY ._.

Ithiel is by me!

He, too, had been preparing. Ithiel had no swords, no shields, no heavy armor. The wolf he'd faced was heavily armed and armored, and his horse was magnificently trained -- as he thought Lystra had once been. While his mount had proven her worth, she had been worked into a frenzy by the end of the fight, and she had been surly and sour of mood in the days afterward. She was not the only issue he faced, however: Inferni, fighters they might be, was a clan of mostly unarmed canines, in much the same predicament as Ithiel himself.

He knew little enough about the making of fine weapons, but a staff was not a difficult thing to procure and make, and he had made three thus far, with a fourth in the works. One was given to his cousin, another to his grandmother, and the third to one of Inferni's newest recruits, Chryses. The coyote was older than Ithiel by far, but she had proven to have a rudimentary competence with the weapon -- unlike Myrika, whom he'd had high hopes for. His cousin's discomfort with the weapon was apparent immediately to the dusty man. Still, it was not the only weapon in the world, and perhaps, with time, she might acquire some proficiency with it.

Time was not something the clan had much of, however. Ithiel did not think such a probing attack would precede months of nothing -- and so, he had increased his patrols, working harder and sleeping less. He did not need much to begin with, and during mindless work such as carving arrows or bows, the dusky man could almost nap as he sat -- his hands continued their work uninstructed, it was so familiar to him. Wood-working was never something he had particularly enjoyed, nor was it a skill he used for superfluous ends. Nothing creative or beautiful had ever come from his hands, worn and calloused as they were.

His horse moved below him, and the dusky man headed across the Waste, intending to stop off at the mansion before making a round of the borders. Lystra was wonderfully compliant in comparison to her old self, but Ithiel still had not reused the hackamore -- he preferred the stronger bit, and it seemed she appreciated the added edge of control. The cry reached his ears and he sat up straight in his saddle, listening with dark ears to the sound of alarm. A moment later, he was speeding across the Waste, bow already in hand. He did not take out the arrow until he could see the mansion, and then the reins were in his teeth and he was driving toward them.

The dark-furred coyote leaned low in his saddle and drew back on his bow, aiming at the man firing toward Vesper. It was only as Ithiel drew nearer he saw the shape of the bow and recognized it for what it was: a crossbow. The dusky coyote snorted and his horse made the same noise almost with him. His own arrow flew, but the man had moved his position and it sailed harmlessly past. Ithiel drew again, knowing his reload would be faster than the man's crossbow. He must capitalize on that. Firing again, the man sent an arrow toward his opponent, seeking to draw him off the Optio at the very least.

Vesper · 04-10-2012, 07:11 AM

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I think you said somewhere that Kalle is in a SL thread later so Ludus gets deadeddd? And Ves is a moron and this probably makes no sense.

It seemed like hours that she starred at the quarrel in the ground before the sound of her clanmates brought her out of her surprise. Vesper laid her ears back and snarled angrily; she was perhaps not a warrior, but she was a fighter, and likely she’d more than hold her own against these intruders on equal footing—four feet. Projectile weapons and blades were still beyond her, and she knew she still needed training if she was going to be competent against luperci.

Right now, however, she only had her prior training and her instincts to go off of as she leaped around. Ithiel had his arrows and was doing his best to combat the man with the weird bow, while Myrika—

The coywolf swallowed, streaking in that direction. Ithiel she knew could hold his own, but despite the training the Praetorian had gone through with him and with her too, she was less certain. Her secui form leaped, crashing against the shoulder of his chestnut mount. It felt good to finally sink her teeth into a goddamn horse, even if this was obviously no shy pony. It reared, and its large rider cursed but managed to keep his seat.

Vesper dodged the first sword easily, relinquishing her grip on the mare, about to come in again to drag him to the ground—but the second blade, handled like it was no more than a toy, swept at her. His cut removed most of what remained of her half-ear and laid her cheek open almost to the bone, but she was too much in the heat of the moment to feel pain. She leaped at the horse again, halfling claws dragging across hide, sinking her teeth into his hand.

Myrika Tears · 04-14-2012, 01:23 AM

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I have no idea. I am bad at these things. XD I think Mel fixed any inconsistencies I made, in any case. DERP SIE DERP. At least my post is short this time. ;_; <3 Sorry again.

The mahogany-haired woman almost stumbled and found her balance again, though she just scrambled out of the way of the charging horse. When she turned back around again, she saw Vesper on the horse's shoulder, teeth sunken into the animal's flesh. Myrika felt nothing but fear and -- anger. Yes, she was angry -- at first, she hadn't realized just how angry, but now, glaring toward the big horse with his armed rider and her four-legged Optio attacking him all the same, she was damned angry. It took her a moment to realize Vesper was in her Secui form, but the thought was novel enough to strike firmly in the mahogany-haired woman's mind. Perhaps she, too, could be a Secui next time.

The strange wooden staff whirled through the air and cracked the rider on the shoulder even as Vesper leapt and took hold of her hand. Myrika did not know whether her hit had any effect, for the horse lashed out with a hoof and just grazed her thigh. That was enough, though, and the pain was immediate and explosive -- she spared only a second to look down at herself and was shocked to see blood. Vesper was bleeding, too, though, and Myrika would not have another injured ghost of Inferni. She had saved Halo's life, but not the woman's vitality: all of that was gone with her sight and her strength, perhaps never to return. She would not see the same happen to Vesper, and the staff lashed out again, the pain of her leg forgotten with the rush of adrenaline and anger.

Myrika is by Nat!

Ithiel de le Poer · 04-14-2012, 01:38 AM

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Ithiel is by Kitty!

There was danger in this situation -- Ithiel's very life was at stake, along with any of his fellow clanmates fighting alongside him. The dusky-furred man, however, was grinning, a broad and almost silly grin across his muzzle. It was a fierce sort of look, and his deep ruby eyes glittered with anticipation as he road down toward the archer, goading Lystra to her fastest. He saw the other man still struggling to reload the crossbow, and Ithiel drew another arrow of his own, aiming for the wolf's chest. He fired, but the wolf jerked forward in the saddle and the arrow sailed harmlessly past. The crossbow was dropped, connected to the wolf by some kind of rope or strap, and a bow much like Ithiel's own was brought around, loaded much quicker than the hefty crossbow.

The man loaded his arrow and fired. Its metal head struck Ithiel in the shoulder -- the right, with the thick coverlet. It twanged harmlessly to the side, and the dusky wolf had his own arrow up then. His opponent was reloaded, as well -- they fired almost simultaneously, with the wolf's only a moment later than Ithiel's. This time, Ithiel's arrow stuck in the horse's flank, and the animal reared, screaming its pain hoarsely. The rider cursed audibly, but Ithiel, too, was hit: this arrow stuck into the leather across his shoulder, its progress into flesh delayed but not altogether prevented. The dark man grimaced and snapped the arrow off with his free hand, wincing as he reached to pull his own arrow out. He stopped as he saw their path -- Lystra ran unbidden now, charging for the man's horse with fire in her eyes.

They were running and Lystra was chasing after him, drawn further away from the fight. The archer's mount was faster than Ithiel's own, but the injury slowed the horse, too, and Lystra's teeth soon grazed the horse's shoulders as they ran almost neck and neck. Ithiel swung for his opponent, dagger in his hand, still grinning.

Vesper · 04-16-2012, 08:31 AM

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idk. zombies are cool. xD but I guess the girls can eat Ludus since it's less likely he'll be able to escape on the grounnd.

The hiss of arrows and mechanical snap of the crossbow was only background noise to the battle at hand. The enemy had been foolish to fight with two blades while on horseback, and the scarred coyote knew it was a matter of time before he fell. She crunched down on fingers, feeling some crack beneath her secui jaws, and scrabbled at the horse’s flesh for purchase. When the rider jolted from the strike of the wooden staff, she wanted to grin.

The rain of blows from Myrika, as well as Vesper’s relentless biting and tugging, managed to finally knock the rider down to the ground. She did not hesitate in leaping onto his chest, her cold blue eyes meeting his hellish red ones. He spat in her face and grasped the one sword that remained in his grasp. The reach made the long blade awkward in close quarters, but he had a dagger in his other hand, stabbing upward at her. Pain flared in her shoulder, but she was already reaching down to savage his face where she could avoid his large teeth.

Myrika Tears · 04-23-2012, 04:28 AM

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I SUCK, BATMAN. DIS GUY GON DIE. >:3

Myrika is by Titmouse!

Everything was happening faster than the mahogany-haired woman could even understand -- Vesper was in the air and her teeth found a hold in the rider somewhere. Myri was swinging the staff again and it smashed the man in the saddle on his shoulder. His horse was half-rearing, but it lashed out with a hind leg, too, and Myri had to dive out of the way. Thankfully, horses were something she understood, and she understood the animal's frightened cries better than she did the fight. When she recovered, the rider was down, on the ground, and his horse was running, charging off.

The rider was on the ground and trying to access his sword, but finding he could not. Still, his other hand flashed, and Myrika jumped forward, hesitating a moment before swinging her staff toward the man's arm as it lashed out. She didn't want to end up smacking Vesper accidentally, though, so when that blow missed, she dropped the staff and fell to his arm herself, yanking at it. He was brutally strong, and it took both her arms and a moment of tugging before she had the limb secured and the dagger was flung away. Her right foot scrabbled at his face, the left shoving at his ribs, where her claws could not penetrate the especially tough, thick leather.

Ithiel de le Poer · 04-23-2012, 06:37 AM

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Ithiel is by me!

The dusky-furred coyote swung and the wolf jerked out of his reach, sliding almost out of his saddle as he stood in the stirrups to avoid Ithiel's slice. Just as quickly, the wolf was bringing his own knife into the fray, slashing downward and toward the Caelum's face. Ithiel could not move out of the way; the momentum of his first strike drove him forward. The wolf slashed at his face and a thin line of blood appeared against his muzzle. The drab coyote righted himself in his saddle, lips drawn back into a snarl.

The wolf's horse gave a shriek and threw his shoulder into Lystra, and the big horse toppled, already weakened by her injury. The dusky coyote felt what was happening and shouted his frustration wordlessly, scrambling to free himself from the saddle as his horse fell. He landed and rolled, one of his legs giving out beneath him as he did so. The shoulder that had taken the arrow slammed against the ground and the world exploded in red-hot pain. The dust-colored coyote lifted his head, lips still drawn in a pained snarl, and watched as the wolf and horse carried on.

Lystra struggled beside him, rolling and finally standing again. Her sides heaved and the whites of her eyes still showed, along with a frothing sweat that had broken out along her shoulders and flanks. The hybrid stood slowly, grasping onto her dangling reigns to help pull himself up. He bit back a gasp of pain as he put weight on the leg that had given out on his leap, and leaned heavily on his horse, even as she trembled. Her pale brown eyes watched where horse and rider had last been, as if expecting them to turn around.

Vesper · 04-23-2012, 09:02 AM

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HE DED.

Vesper had never liked fighting in such close quarters. Hers was the technique of her mother’s ancestors—leaping in and out again, tearing and bleeding the opponent, never staying still long enough to get caught. Her secui form heralded her wolf blood, however. With her added muscle mass and fearsome teeth, she could afford to stay in close and tear into the foe. His dagger was no longer a problem as the Praetorian jerked his arm and knocked it aside, and the Optio grinned wickedly down at him.

“Do you give up?” she asked, blood dripping from her mouth with each word. Redness had darkened the side of her face where her ear was gone, her cheek slashed.

The wolf’s red eyes only burned hatefully back at her, and he spat a curse—something about burning in hell, something about the eradication of her species—but it didn’t sound like he would yield. There was some hesitation as she looked at Myrika out of the corner of her eye, but she fell upon his face again, snapping, one paw flying at his muzzle. She twisted his head and slashed her teeth across his throat.

As the wolf jerked, his life welling out of him, Vesper breathed heavily. Two, she thought, but it was easier now, easier to see defiance and abhorrence in this one’s eyes to the very end. She swallowed copper and looked at the mahogany-haired woman, her eyes sliding to the hoof-inflicted wound on her thigh. She’d leaned forward to give it a lick before the squeals of the horses caught her attention.

“Ithiel,” she remembered, glancing at her friend before turning and cantering exhaustedly toward where the archers had been fighting. She dreaded getting trampled by a horse or shot through with an arrow when she’d defeated one opponent, but she pressed on anyway. They couldn’t rest until they were all safe.

Myrika Tears · 04-25-2012, 06:53 AM

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(305) Can end it here if want! OOCly assume they dragged the corpse back to D'Neville for whatever, got treated for woundses? o:

Myrika is by Sie!

Blood was the only thing Myrika could smell anymore -- that and fear. Her own, maybe a bit of Vesper's, and now even the big wolf's, as Vesper leaned inward to face him and demand he yield to her. The pale blues of her Optio focused on Myrika for a minute, and the mahogany-haired woman dissented with a shake of her head, though she did not know whether this was to the man's life or the question of yielding. Turquoise eyes remained fixed on the entangled pair, wolf and coyote, as Vesper made the final stroke. She could not look away, she would not. Her mouth set in a thin line as the wolf's life ebbed from him, but there was no sympathy in her -- only relief.

The Praetorian looked to her mottled companion with that relief apparent on her face, though it twisted as the woman leaned forward to lick her wound, a flash outright desire coursing through Myrika with the pain and pleasure of the touch against her wound. She hoped she'd concealed it, for it had been strange even to her -- desire should not accompany death, after all. Instead, Myri stood and shook her head clear of all thoughts, focusing instead on the task at hand. She was suddenly exhausted, and wanted only to curl up and sleep in her home. Vesper was right, however -- Ithiel.

The mahogany-haired woman lingered a moment longer than Vesper, turquoise eyes on the fallen wolf. They moved over the ground to her staff, and she moved over toward the weapon, favoring her leg. There was something else in the grass a few feet away -- something shiny, and wet with redness. The hybrid leaned over this, too, and picked it up, carrying weapon in both hands as she walked after her Optio.

Ithiel de le Poer · 04-25-2012, 06:59 AM

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Ithiel is by Raze!

The dust-furred coyote listened for the sounds of battle and heard nothing. There was only an eerie stillness, the quiet in the woods after such a fight. All the small creatures had been driven away -- no songbirds crooned and no crows cackled. This was better than the alternative, however: the clashes of blades, the cries of the dying were things Ithiel did not wish to hear, and he was relieved by their absence.

Lystra bled, but otherwise seemed hale -- she did not favor any of her feet and her gait was not impeded in the least, which was good. A broken foot usually maimed a horse for life, Ithiel had always heard, though he had never paid it any mind until actually owning a horse, and had never believed it until he'd heard it from a trustworthy mouth -- namely, Myrika's. The dusky coyote's red eyes perceived Myrika and Vesper, both of them bloodied. The Caelum lifted one hand, the uninjured shoulder, and tried to bid them not to rush on his account.

Though his leg felt awful, the dust-furred coyote knew it was not broken or sprained. He was not worried about his own injuries, and made this plain as the women approached. Are you two okay? Is he dead? Mine got away, the coyote said, his muzzle wrinkling in frustration as he said this last.

Vesper · 04-29-2012, 10:19 AM

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HE DED.

The scattered arrows made her shudder, but the Optio was relieved to find that neither horse nor rider had been fatally injured. They would all need to see Enkiel after this, however; blood matted the side of her face, the most grievous of her wounds. It was hard to hear anything from her left ear, or what was left of it, but she favored her good ear as she stood before Ithiel and listened to his report.

“We’re okay. He’s dead,” she confirmed dully; I killed him. Her wet red jaws said as much. She glanced back at Myrika, who gripped a serrated knife, maybe the one that had shallowly stabbed Ves in the shoulder. She flexed the muscle there and was pleased to find that nothing had been badly torn, but turning her head swiftly back around caused her vision to fade at the corners. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathed, counted, opened them again.

“Let’s—go back,” she suggested, after a questioning look toward the lathered and bloodied mare. The pace was slow enough for anyone to match with a limp, and she was acutely aware of the tawny woman. Her head pulsed in time with her heart, and she paused as she reached the corpse again. A big paw lifted to his face, closing those hate- and death-clouded crimson eyes.

Something in the grass caught her attention: a bundle of beads. Some of the beads were crushed, leaving a cross detached from the rest of it. She stared darkly at the cross then grabbed the rosary in her jaws—a trophy and a reminder. Flipping it over her thick secui neck, she shook herself and went back to the corpse. “What should we do with it—him? Take him back?” She didn’t know the protocol for this sort of thing.

Another wave of darkness came on, and she shifted her feet subtly, just enough to keep herself from collapsing. She tried to find her comrades in the haze of black, latching onto whatever she could see, the cloying reek of her own blood from her facial wound trying to lead her away from consciousness.

Myrika Tears · 05-01-2012, 05:38 AM

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(416) Just Myri from here, and we can wrap this up if you want. ;___;. It WAS probably silly of me to wanna keep it open and I feel guilty in case I pressured you (you are busy with exams and shiz), pahhh I am sorry we close if you busy ILOVEYOURAZE and I just do adores me some Myrives. <3

Myrika is by Raze!

The sounds of battle had faded away, and Myrika heard only a queer stillness in the world. She was positively exhausted and she hurt in more places than she could even account for all at once. It seemed she'd forget about three aching places in concentrating on one bloodied wound, and a moment later three more bruised and battered areas made themselves known when she stepped a particular way. Her spirits were gladdened, however, to see the familiar figure of her dust-colored cousin striding alongside his liver chestnut mare. The horse was bleeding and so was Ithiel, but neither was severely wounded. Vesper was quicker to explain, and Myrika, glad for her avoidance of having to speak.

As to her Optio's question, Myrika could not say. She looked away, knowing she had been accomplice to his death, but she was strangely at peace with that thought. His death removed part of a threat to Inferni -- a threat that would have cut her, her cousin, and Vesper all to pieces if it had the chance. Good riddance. There was dark merriment to the thought, but she was too tired to take any true joy of the wolf's end. It was then that she saw a wobble, a strange swaying on Vesper's part, as if the ground itself was unsteady. Ithiel seemed to see it, too, but Myrika was closer, and she moved to the woman's side, awkwardly wrapping one arm around her big Secui shoulders to try and steady her and keep her upright.

I will take care of this body, later, the dusky coyote said, more to Myrika than their struggling companion. We should get Vesper back to the mansion, now, he said, urging them on with a wave of his hand. I am slower than you. Can you pick her up, if it needs to be done? The Caelum's voice was mild, and Myrika remembered his advice -- calm was worth much more than blind panic in dangerous situations. She nodded, forced a shaky exhale, and smiled toward Vesper.

Come on, she said, leaving both the staff and the dagger for Ithiel to contend with. Her free hand went to the tawny shoulder of the Optio, seeking to support her as they returned to the mansion and Enkiel's healing hands. Myrika bit her lip and pressed her hand tentatively against the wound on Vesper's head. I'm sorry, she said. I try to should stop the bleeding.

Vesper · 05-06-2012, 07:46 AM

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You know I don't mind, sillyyyy. <3 I was shaping up for this to be my last post for this thread, but ehhh I don't mind if it needs another post or two. If you want, post again or archive, doesn't matter to me! Big Grin

As her blood loss threatened to claim her, Vesper felt a soft but strong arm snake around her shoulders. She might have recoiled from the touch for her pride, but Myrika’s scent was sweet in her nose, and she only leaned back into the support. She was reminded almost of dragging herself, bloody and burning, to the borders of the clan she would choose for herself. But she had not lost this time—she was glad of that, of the metallic taste in her mouth.

That Ithiel would take care of the body reassured her, and she forced herself to nod in his direction even if he didn’t seem to be actively addressing her. “You don’t need to pick me up,” she said softly to her friend, although she knew that she’d probably revoke the words later. “Although I know you’re capable,” she added, a bit of breathless laughter leaving her.

She was glad to be moving again, although every step became a bit more sluggish than the last. She pushed herself, though, praying that the mansion would be closer than she thought. One her head was bandaged, the wounds protected against infection with whatever poultice or brew Enkiel kept up with, she would be able to sleep naturally, and everything would be fine. This was a victory, and she would live; she’d gotten along this far with only half an ear, anyway.

Myrika touched her wound, and she winced but settled eventually with the pressure. “Don’t apologize,” she murmured, although it was getting harder to make sense of what the other was saying. But then—“I’m sorry. About…the wolf… I didn’t want you to have to…” She trailed off.

Myrika Tears · 05-08-2012, 02:02 AM

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(--) Dis works! Archive or post again or whatevsss. <3

Myrika is by Raze!

With Vesper's refusal, however polite it had been, Myrika decided it was best to simply provide support for the woman instead. Falling would only worsen her condition and increase the time it took them to arrive at the mansion. Ithiel and Lystra trailed after them, presumably still on alert, but the dusky coyote was quiet, as Myrika expected him to be. The woods pressed close around them and Myrika looked this way and that, expecting to find scenes of carnage. There were none apparent as of yet, and this was a relief greater than even Myri had expected. None of her clan deserved to die at the hands of those heartless attackers.

The tawny coyote shook her head firmly. I'm sorry you had to, but it needed to be done. She would not, could not waste any more time lamenting the lives of those who would have extinguished her and all she knew and held dear now without second thought. It would not be as easy as Ithiel made it seem, but Myri was confident in her ability to rationalize self-defense, even if it came to brutality. It's okay, though. Just... quiet and walk, the woman said, kindly as she could. I'll take care of you. She added this more uncertainly, though perhaps she was spared further discomfort by the sight of the D'Neville looming up before them.

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