Word Count :: 000 Read only, set at the same time as the gathering of the pack in Shop #3. He's more or less trapped under the debris where the main floor guest room was.
He had heard Skye's call, but had things he needed to grab from the house before joining her. He needed his herbs, or at least a good supply of the basic ones. He needed his treasured notebook. These were things he should have had ready and waiting, but he'd been busy with Kenna and finishing the preparations for the coming storm. Myrddin glanced worriedly at his father. "Poppa, we need to go. Lady Skye is calling the pack." Tal patted his son's head.
"Myr, go to her. Be careful and don't dawdle." As his son grabbed his own small pack containing a tattered fur and his own small medical kit for minor injuries, Tal spoke again. "I won't be long. Love you, Myr." He was pulling small bottles of herbs off the shelf, then moved to the spare bedroom. He kept spare blankets in there along with his notebooks when it wasn'[t being used as a sickroom. Usually he kept them in his room upstairs, but he'd brought them down one day and forgotten to move them again.
A noise caught his attention, and he paused to listen, his head cocking curiously. The sound was a ripping noise. He dropped his notebook as the house seemed to shudder. Outside, the tree he'd often napped under had been pulled up from it's roots and had smashed into the back wall of the house. He moved to the doorway as the house shuddered again, the storm seeming louder. He glanced around the corner of the doorway into his kitchen, which was suddenly exposed to the outside. With a yelp, he ducked back into the room, slamming the door shut.
The storm didn't care he'd closed the door. The house shuddered again as the missing support of the corner of the house caused the house to slowly slide apart. He grabbed the mattress off the bed and laid on the floor. He'd read somewhere once that storm survivors would do that. He wanted to survive, wanted to see Myrddin smile at him again. He wanted to tell Gemma that he did in fact love her.
A heavy weight was on his chest as silence fell over the room. He could hear the storm, yes, but it was distant, muffled. Dust filled his lungs as he coughed. Panic filled him as he tried to move. he could stretch out, but he couldn't sit up. He was trapped under the debris of his home.
He couldn't help it. He screamed for help. He tried to stay calm, but the frightened howls came from him anyway. When he grew horse, he fell silent. Who knew how long he would be trapped?
.xmasjuly21 { background-image:url(http://i49.tinypic.com/2rz49pj.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; background-position: top center; background-color:#2e2548; width:504px; margin:0px auto; text-align: left; padding:310px 0px 10px 0px; color:#CDCDCD; font-family:georgia, serif; font-size:12px; line-height:18px; border:1px solid #FFFFFF; }
.xmasjuly21 b {color:#9a739c; }
.xmasjuly21 p { text-indent:40px; padding:5px 15px; margin:0px; }
.xmasjuly21 p.ooc { font-family:arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size:11px; }
</style>[/html]