reflections turn my heart to stone

[Jefferson Soul]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... parrow.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> Foredated to the 29th. Continuation of this post. I'd say that if your character can't be of much help or is not related, etc., I would not post here. wc728 --- He ached. He couldn't identify why, really. Something in his stomach was lurching and a feeling of dread had clouded his thoughts for several days on end--there was no reason he could easily identify, but he yearned to know why. Jefferson was the pessimistic type, this was true, but never the type to hide away when his mood was fouler than usual. No, he was straying around Phoenix Valley as always, taking the time to shift in order to keep a steady, easier pace on two solid legs rather than forcing his gimpy leg some action. Walking helped soothe the spirals of his mind, but his mind was not soothed. He had things to do that day. Tyrone walked beside him; the child seemed to have grown wonders since the two were originally paired up weeks, maybe a month or two prior. He would be a marvelous addition to the pack when his age earned it, but for now, the child merrily hopped along after him, speaking what sporadic thoughts and observations came to mind. Jefferson liked the company, it was plenty distraction; but the dreadful feeling in his gut kept his voice low and gruff, when it sparsely emerged. His nose hit the air suddenly, feet immediately halting as his senses attacked the scent in the air. "Tyrone," he said, holding out his good arm to stop the lad. The child looked up at him questionably and cracked some witty comment, but it was ignored. He knew that scent, that reek that stained the air: "Blood." His fangs bared and his muscles suddenly jumped at the ready, eye flashing from side to side as he hunted for the smell's origin. It was so heavy and musky in the air, the brute took great measures not to choke on the stench, though Tyrone twitched his nose and complained. Jefferson poised his legs and began to stride a few steps further, before he veered off in a sudden direction and hastened his speed. The feeling in his stomach grew; the heart in his chest pounded tirelessly. Scents were merging together. Blood. Iskata? Blood? Tyrone had taken off after him, calling in question what had happened, but not even the beast knew. It was not until his green eye fell upon her limp, unmoving body by the waters. Blood. Blood. Tyrone came running and the hybrid quickly spun on his heels and caught him, keeping his eyes away from the carnage that laid so close by. He didn't need to see his grandmother like this. Jefferson himself didn't need to see her like this. His eye, wide and frantic, stared the child down in a way he had never done before, but he tried to maintain a calm, normal tone: "Tyrone--I need you to run back home as fast as you can go and find Deuce and your father. Get them together and tell them it's an emergency." The child argued and protested, trying to see past him, but the brute snapped. "Now, Tyrone!!" That said, the child zoomed off to the main packlands, huffing and puffing on his unknowing mission. Jefferson spent no time staring after the pup; instead, he turned quickly and cautiously made his way to the matriarch's unmoving frame. "Iskata?" He said quietly, taking a moment to ensure that no enemies were about, but they were alone. She didn't reply, and his heart sunk. The picture was all too real, all too familiar. He remembered suddenly when he had put some in such a position and deserted them as they were. He cringed. Jefferson reached down and was surprised to feel a pulse when it was checked--and as a result, wasted no time in suddenly, but carefully, pulling her from the ground with his good arm. It took a bit of maneuvering, and she was bleeding heavily--he couldn't judge how long the attack was, or whose fault it had been--but the hybrid managed to hoist her limp body over his shoulder, a grim scowl dark on his face. His legs took off immediately at a hastened, though careful, pace. His heart pounded, and he ignored the dampness of the blood that seeped into his shoulder. She was alive. Thank goodness, she was alive. A long, cracked howl rose from his throat--it bit into the air like a lightning bolt, pained and distressed, as the creature burst back into Phoenix Valley.

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[Iskata Sadira]

Iskata could hear the voices about her but it was like a dream. She felt like she was once more in the lands of Clouded Tears alone and roaming the hills.. like she'd been daydreaming of the day she'd buried Zana's twin. She whined, her voice catching in her throat as she felt herself being lifted. The scent of her pack seemed to envelope her senses making the dreamy haze of the old packlands fade away. Her head lulled over his back, though she couldn't see the owner of the voice she knew who it was. She wanted to warn him of the demon and the beast but it seemed the world had calmed while she was fading away.

She wasn't for certain if her eyes were open or closed, but as the pain of his movements across the lands ran through her body she was quickly thrown into utter darkness where there was nothing for company... and yet when the world had finally stilled and her body was lain down upon the lands she loved a broken howl was so close to her ears she felt her paws twitch as she cried out as the pain started anew. She coughed, her ribs aching as she flicked her ears back and whimpered. "Jeffers?" she was certain she'd heard his voice at some point but she felt so alone now as the numbing cold began to seep into her weeping wounds again.

[Deuce Rhiannon]

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The howl reached her ears just as the pup came racing at her. Tyrone danced around her, begging her to find Jefferson, panting. Deuce gave him a quick pat on the head and thanked him, grabbing her pack and moving as quickly as her burgeoning pregnancy would allow. She was following the boy back the way he came when she caught sight of the gruesome tablue Jefferson and Iskata presented. She bit her lip, her eyes flying to meet Jefferson's. The next thing she did was look to Tyrone, who was thankfully behind her. "Go get your father now, tyrone." She was somewhat relieved as he raced off to do as she asked with minimal protest. Fear drenched the pale woman's body as she trembled, one hand curling into a fist. And then her mind cleared and her feet came unglued from the ground. She strode forward, pointing to a small cabin near by. "Take her in there. It's the cabin I use for my patients." She moved ahead of the male, opening the door for him. There was a bed already laid out, in case of emergencies. This wasn't the first time she'd cared for an injured wolf here. She already knew without looking closely that the wounds were extensive. This was going to be rough on her, and Iskata.

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[DaVinci 'Dait Nasphri]

DaVinci had been sitting outside the lakehouse he shared with his two children, Skylar standing close by tossing stones into the water from the end of the dock as she recited different types of game to be found easily in the winter. Her mind seemed stuck on the lifestock they kept within the packlands though she was very good at figuring out the actual wild beasts when she wasn't distracted. In the middle of gathering tips on how to best approach rabbits in the winter DaVinci heard the loudest commotion coming from the old road that lead to their home. Rising quickly to his feet the male moved out to find out what his son was yowling about. Small Skylar followed behind him just as fast as her little paws could carry her but neither one expected what they were greeted with.

It took only mere seconds for Ty to explain that something bad had happened and Jefferson wanted DaVinci now! He chattered on about how it had to be a secret because both Jefferson and Deuce wouldn't let him see it but he could smell blood and grandma's scent. DaVinci didn't even stop to think as he ran down the road from the direction that Ty had come from, not even thinking to tell the two to stay home, so of course not two seconds behind him came running the grandchildren.

He followed the scent and soon enough the male could see the cabin before him, he knew exactly where to find the band of packmembers as he'd taken Firefly to the exact same location. Bursting through the door he quickly shut it behind him, growling at the two young packmembers that if they wanted to stay they were staying outside until further notice. He could hear them whining and grumbling as he slammed the door shut. Walking across the room to where Jefferson had laid his mother the steele hued male kneeled down as he turned to the two, "What happened.." he asked darkly.

[Jefferson Soul]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... parrow.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> wc249 --- The brute was far beyond relieved at the sight of Deuce, and wordlessly followed her command and hauled the bleeding matriarch towards the cottage. All emotions and past interactions aside, Jefferson kept his green eye pointed on the destination and moved one foot after another, thoughts plagued with worries and unspoken concerns. What could he say? Surely Deuce and any others knew it wasn't his fault--Tyrone would speak for him on that matter--but he had no explanations, either. What if she didn't pull through? Who would take her place? Could they find an explanation for her death without her own words to guide them? She'd muttered his name before, when he was carrying her into the packlands, and it was all that echoed in his mind. Laying her down on the preset table (that suddenly, he was very appreciative of the convenience), the hybrid stood back and held his gaze low. He wouldn't have minded if he'd been shooed from the room by the white-furred medic, but when DaVinci suddenly burst in and successfully shut his children out, Jefferson shook his head. "I don't know," he muttered darkly, a wild look in the eye. "I smelled blood, and I found her beside the creek just outside the packlands. She looked unconscious so I rushed her over, but she mumbled and cringed plenty. I'm not sure she's fully blacked out even right now." His eye moved to Deuce, as if asking for answers she could find that they could not.

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[Deuce Rhiannon]

Number of words: 401

Deuce only partially heard the answer, her fingers already gently probing the ragged edges of the wounds. She glanced up at Da'Vinci and jefferson, her eyes clearly showing the gravity of the situation. She returned her gaze the the younger woman. Something ivory in one of the wounds caught her attention. She noted the position, turning and taking a clean rag to staunch the blood flow. She used the tip of a claw to tease out the small ivory shard, pressing the cloth to the wound. With her other hand, she presented the artifact for the other two to see. Bear. Her voice was grave. She allowed the claw to fall to the table, nibbling her lip. Finally she began to move. She tore a strip of cloth from the rag, tying the rag to Iskata's wounds.

She grabbed more cloths, reaching into the cupboard. She came out with a gallon bottle of hydrogen peroxide. She'd discovered the use of it when Ahren's daughter had used it on her infected wounds. She began pouring it methodically on Iskata's injuries until the room stank of blood and peroxide. She then tied more tourniquets trying to staunch the blood flow. her words were curt, but not cold. Da'Vinci, clean Jefferson up. There's another room just down the hall with a basin of water and more cloth rags. Part of it was because she didn't want Da'Vinci to watch her sew up the ragged wounds on his mother. Part was because she wasn't used to an audience when she stitched anyone up.

She rummaged through the cupboard again, pulling out various herbs and their tinctures. She poured a few drops of Valerian onto Iskata's tongue. It would relax the woman, hopefully keeping the worst of the pain away. Then she secured Iskata's hands and feet to the table. A squirming patient ended up ripping out their stitches before it was time. She couldn't have that. Deuce used a hair scrunchie to pull her mane back, away from her eyes, and pulled out a wicked looking bone needle, long and wickedly sharp. The black suture thread was next. She looked to Iskata, nibbling her lip. There wasn't time to get the silver and gold woman drunk, which would have dulled the pain more than anyone realized. Deuce had never worked on a patient who was unwilling beofre. It frightened her mightily.

[DaVinci 'Dait Nasphri]

--will reply with Isk after Deuce's next reply--

DaVinci knew if the others could see his features would have been paler than pale. He kept his fists balled up tightly to keep from shaking as he paced back and forth, watching Deuce begin the long process of cleaning up the Matriarch. She was his mother, but as well their leader, he wasn't sure what to even do. While in time he was able to forgive her for the errors she'd made, even when he'd been filled with anger she'd still been his mother.

Those stormy orbs snapped to attention as Deuce spoke to him, though the words took too long to get through to his mind the male finally glanced over to Jefferson, the scent and sight of the blood that coated the other's pelt made him look away, but not before the fear of what reality was saying had shown through. Almost as thought another was doing the work DaVinci stumbled to where Jefferson stood and grasped hold of his shoulder, the tremors in his hand were still there as he said gruffly. "Jefferson.." He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to help clean the other male up.. damn it, but he wasn't going to act a fool just yet.

He raised those orbs back to Jefferson, pleading with the other silently to join him. The children had eachother and he couldn't face them just yet.. but perhaps if it was only silence they shared it might lend strength to eachother. Something had to take away the panic that was building in his veins.

[Jefferson Soul]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... parrow.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> wc264 --- He understood; he knew what was going on. His job had already come and gone, and now, just like everyone else, all the brute could do was wait. Jefferson hated waiting. He hated being rushed and he hated waiting. But no, his job was finished--this hybrid was the pack's Captain, the creature in charge of emergencies. Well, this was the biggest emergency he had seen thus far, as the pack lived and reclined in its little valley rather undisturbed. Conflicts existed within members, but that was to be expected. He kept an eye on those who he grew suspicious of. He'd become a pupsitter and a mentor. For the first time in his life, Jefferson was something more than a starved, useless gimp. He'd grown to appreciate that, somehow. The hybrid pulled his stolid green eye from the bleeding, downcast figure he'd carried in somehow (how had he managed that, anyway? Now, it was all just a blur). Turning his silent gaze to DaVinci, he recognized the pain and anguish deep in his eyes; it was enlightening, somehow. The creature who had spoken of his mother so dismissively, so loosely, was now himself cringing and refusing to reveal it. Jefferson was well aware that Deuce was dismissing them both for a number of reasons, but the truth was, cleaning up that shoulder would have been a bit difficult with only one arm anyway. The brute might not have admitted it, but he appreciated the help, even it revealed a bit of a weakness. He cleared his throat, nodded, and redirected himself off into another room.

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[Deuce Rhiannon]

The males left the room, and Deuce began. Normally, she had no issue stitching anyone up. She'd stitched physe, she'd stitched Phoenix, she'd stitched Lucifer. She stitched Haku. hell, she'd even stitched herself. But they'd all ben willing and concious participants.

With each pierce of the needle, she awaited iskata's reactions. Rather, she dreaded them. She dreaded the silver and gold hued woman's wakening. Soon, though, each stitch became autonomus, just needle and thread moving and doing their job. She fell into the lull of the monotony of the work, her stitches tiny and neat rows joining the ragged strips of flesh that were Iskata's wounds.

[Iskata Sadira]

It was so cold, the sudden slosh of the elixor onto her wounds as Deuce began to cleanse every jagged mark, every torn muscle and the darkness.. there was darkness like she'd never known before. The woman was in a fog, she could hear the words they spoke, she could sense them moving about the place.. then the silence as her family members disapeared filled the air a soft whine rose from her throat. She felt so alone as though death were coming for her now. She knew the woman was there, she could feel the numbing of the painkillers that she'd been fed.. and yet every pinprick, every thread that was sewn.. every tug as her flesh was drawn together as though she could once more be whole. Hot tears were wept though not another sound was made while the woman worked. The fire that burned with the cooling touch of frost along the edges was every mark that Ahren had graced her with through his damnable madness. She should have just driven herself upon his blade.. she could have found his throat before the full force of the actions had taken her soul.. but she hadn't. Fear was a powerful weakness.

She could hold it in no longer as her limbs shook, the shattered hind leg so slow in movement, so jarred and jerking as the others seemed to fight harder to escape the hold of the Shaman. She didn't deserve to be alive, the darkness had already claimed her, why was Deuce trying to save her. Something inside had snapped, somehow the shock of it all had knocked sense out of the woman.. the darkness to her was the end of life, not the bitter truth of the blindness that was the final blow she'd been granted before being left for the next hungry scavenger. Her voice was mournful as she whispered. "You can let go now Deuce.." She knew her friend and Shaman wouldn't stop, she'd fight til the bitter end.. but Iskata wanted her to know it was ok to let her go, that she had a whole other world waiting for her beyond the darkness..

[Jefferson Soul]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... parrow.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> wc296 --- There was a level of misery involved with the feeling of helplessness, of feeling pointless or worthless for a while. Loneliness, helplessness, and misery all walked hand in hand, after all, and made exceptions from no one. Even as Jefferson stepped from the room and felt the air thin simply when he passed through the doorway, he yearned to go back in and find some way--any way--to be of further help. It was uncharacteristic of him, he knew, but that habitual apathy was to be shunned and ignored for now. He was in charge of emergencies. This was an emergency--surely there had to be something more he could do for the two leaders. He began to inhale and exhale for the first time since he'd laid eyes on Iskata by the brook, only then realizing how little he'd been breathing and blinking. His muscles had yet to relax, but he now noticed the tenseness throughout his body and its incapability to settle after the shock value of the day's events. His scowl was beyond a scowl then, now a frustrated, almost infuriated-looking frown accompanied by furrowed brows and a ferocious green eye unbreaking from the doorway he'd just moved through. Jefferson couldn't bring himself to look at DaVinci--surely the gray-furred underling was feeling a similar, if not worse, pain--and he wondered what the peculiar silver creature would tell his children and grandchildren of the event, or how they would react. Jefferson knew Tyrone would frown and puff up his chest at the sound of any tragedy in an unmocking imitation of the thick-minded Jefferson who showed little emotion when it wasn't needed. The pup had done it before. Jefferson had laughed. There was no laughing for that day. "Damnit," was all he could bring himself to say.

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[Deuce Rhiannon]

Iskata's words were loud in the silence. Deuce froze, her heart dropping. "Don't give up the fight, my friend. We can get you through this, I promise." Could she? The cold outside had helped to save her life, it seemed. the cool air had lowered her body tempature, slowing her heart rate, slowing the flow of blood. All Deuce was doing now was damage control. It might not be enough, and in her heart, Deuce knew it. She wouldn't face it head on, but she knew it.

She resumed her stitching, mindful of the time slipping by. She was nearly done, it seemed. How long had she ben doing this? An hour? Two hours? She couldn't remember doing most of it. It was probably hell on iskata too. And Deuce had no choice but to continue.

[DaVinci 'Dait Nasphri]

DaVinci had stood there silently for too long just staring out the window of the room. He could hear the breathing patterns of Jefferson change and yet he did nothing. He was suppose to be helping the other male clean the blood off his hands and coat and yet he couldn't bring himself to move. The hybrid closed his eyes, one first resting above his head along the edge of the window frame as his forehead came to rest on the cold glass. Suddenly it seemed all the fury and anger the male had held within his soul finally unleased itself as he brought both arms up over his head, his fists pounding against the thick wood of the frame, the glass rattling as the male felt the hot tears linger along the edge of his dark lashes.

None of it was fair, so long had his relationship with his mother teetered on the edge of one or the other wanting to kill the other.. then it had been so hard to even be in the presence of the other knowing what darkness had once lingered in the thoughts of the other.. finally it seemed that they'd been brought together, though not fully mended when he'd had to turn to her pack for guidance and protection for his children... now he was forced to realize he actually cared for the woman he called mother. He didn't want to admit the second fact but it shone through and through that he was scared shitless of what was occuring in the other room. Was he going to have to announce to his young children that they'd lost their grandmother, that she couldn't be saved.. was he going to have to admit the truth to himself as well.

His fists pounded against the frame once more as he growled. "Why are we sitting here.." He didn't want to be sitting here, he didn't want to be doing nothing.. but yet there was nothing to do.

[Iskata Sadira]

Iskata heard those words as there was a pause in the stitching, the constant stab of pressure that made the harsher wounds seem slight and numbing to say the least. Her ruined eyes were still a mess though the tears flowed with blood, washing the wounds and yet reminding her of the pain all the same with the sting of salt. A shudder rang through her body as Deuce made the promise to her that she so wished the woman wouldn't make. She made no protest to begin with after the words were spoken instead she fell silent and limp upon the table once more.

It seemed that the stitching had slowed after such a dull ache had settled over her form, she felt like she was drifting away as she whined raggedly again. "What's left to fight for.." the question seemed to echo between the two leaders as the truth say vivid upon her silvery fur. There was nothing left for her, death was drawing near and she felt as though there was a struggle between the phoenix trying to rise and death's greedy hold over the soul.

[Jefferson Soul]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... itable.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> -- His muscles ached somehow, possibly due to the strain of carrying another being over his shoulder... Jefferson couldn't have said that he'd done that before. He'd never rescued anyone before, and of all people he wanted to rescue, it wasn't Iskata. He didn't want to have to rescue her in the first place, to be precise. A thick air of melancholy and trauma hung heavily throughout the cabin, tangible like mist in the air, and only magnified by the sudden outburst of the silver-furred son across the room. Jefferson's single eye suddenly shot to stare in surprise at DaVinci, but wandered to the floor soon thereafter. He understood DaVinci's pain, somewhat, and felt his distressed and frustrated scowl melt into a saddened, downtrodden frown. The world kept going on around them, and they were being left behind. "DaVinci..." he said slowly, taking a cautious step closer. The last thing they needed was for Iskata to be awake and hearing her son's frustrated pain and distress and get only sicker. He cleared his throat then, assuming a more authoritative tone. After all... he guessed he was the one in charge in that room. "There's nothing else we can do but be here. You know that." He regretted his words, but they needed to avoid all the irritation possible. It wouldn't be of any help anywhere. "Deuce will handle Iskata... you're the one who has to tell your kids."

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[Iskata Sadira]

...

[DaVinci 'Dait Nasphri]

He knew he shouldn't have done it but everything just seemed to be piling up, first the truth with Ryan, the words on the border of Inferni where he was basically told to fuck off and stay away from the de le Poer girl.. his past unburied and now so quickly on the heels of finding his mother and finding a place to belong he felt he was losing it all. The words of Jefferson were the truth but they did nothing for the male as he turned, his eyes alive with pain and tears as laughed bitterly. "Nothing, that's all there ever is to do." He was being unfair but he couldn't help it. It seemed just when things turned around in his life once more the walls came crashing down.

He turned away from the male, staring out the window but seeing nothing as he replied bitterly. "What's there to tell them? That we all have to wait, that she may die, she may live. Nothing will ever be the same either way." He knew his mother and her damnable pride, she'd rather die and leave it all behind than what he knew her life would be like if she lived. He'd seen the shape she'd been in.. he knew the reality of it all and none of it was pretty. He was being childish but he didn't want to face the facts and stare into those innocent eyes of his children and tell them the cold hard facts of life.

[Jefferson Soul]

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http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... itable.png);background-position:bottom;background-repeat:no-repeat;"> It occurred to Jefferson that the walls that DaVinci had so determinedly built and defended around himself were suddenly coming to crumble down--and it appeared that while his mother's tragic wounds had been the trigger, they had not been the only thing to knock. He didn't particularly like seeing the silver-furred creature so pitifully upset and hopeless, his own polar opposite and downfall. This wasn't the DaVinci he knew. It wasn't the DaVinci he liked, either, but Jefferson didn't have much patience for sappy folks. "Enough of this, DaVinci!" Jefferson's eye thinned, piercing the pathetic underling's being. "The world is not ending. Nobody's dead and nobody's dying. Iskata will be fine, you hear me?" His frown shaped into a deep scowl. He hadn't shown his bad side yet today. Perhaps it was time, since it seemed to get the point across. "I'll be damned if you upset Tyrone because you couldn't tell him the truth. Stop wallowing away and be a parent to your kids instead of a child to your mother. That's what there is to you, you jackass."

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[Deuce Rhiannon]

Whats left to fight for? Deuce sighed silently. What indeed? She eyed the matriarch despondantly, then looked away. The stitching was done. She slowly spread a poultice over the wounds. There was nothing more she could do, except bandage them. This soon followed. Finally, she spoke again. "You have Zana to fight for. And our pack." Our pack. Phoenix valley. It was something, wasn't it?

She walked to the hallway, raising her voice so the two males could hear her. "We're all done out here." Sure, the woman looked like a mummy, bandaged and wrapped, but that was the most healed the white woman could do for her coleader.

[Iskata Sadira]

Iskata closed her eyes as she felt the damp substance spread over her wounds, she was tired and all she wanted was to sleep, to drown herself in the nothing that would wait beyond. She wasn't ready to die but she wasn't ready to live in the world she knew waited for her. The bandages that covered her pelt felt so different from the clothes that she'd worn in the past. She shuddered at the thought as the words Deuce tried to coax her with fell upon her tattered ears. "I don't know.. if it will be enough.." she said softly as she felt the small flairs of pain building along her body where each mark had been made by beast and then needle. She knew she would never be the same.. perhaps the only ironic thing was that she'd never have to see what she'd changed into.