Duck's eyes gleamed hungrily as they left the marsh, the otter-beast gembound left behind after her little silly prank worked. There was still competition to beat, and for a brief moment she felt a doubtful of her capabilities - these were hardy gembound, despite their... varying levels of intelligence. Of all the potential champions, she really hoped that coyote didn't become one of them. That would be deeply embarrassing.
It charged forward, little legs straining with use, the skin underneath its velvety fur burning as the light watched them all scrabble toward the end. There were limits to her speed, but she did relatively well for all her handicaps.
Something's wrong. Reverend's ears prick, listening to something shifting around him. Even if he can't see what's around it, it has the sense someone is focusing on him. He's not even sure what it is, if it's another trial-goer, or yet another of the encroaching vultures, come to take more from him.
He can't take chances, not when he's so helpless. So he reaches out with his magic, calling for it to distort the dim light. With a chirp, the world bends, filling the air around the two of them with too many mirror images. Hopefully Reverend can slip away while Aran tries to pick out the real one.
@Aran
There's not much it can do but keep moving. There is no obvious thoroughfare, no clear path, even if he could see. All he has to go on is the distant shouting of other Gembound ahead, which he trails with caution.
The burning, blistering heat is unbearable, dark hiding withering under the false desert sun. The salt cakes to his talons, but there's nothing he can do but march, march, march. Even so, he seems to be falling more and more behind.
How much further do I have to go?
Everything burns and aches. This whole thing turns out to be more than Spinnaker bargained for, the blood loss and toxins making his vision swim and turn hazy. He's not sure how much longer he can go, especially with how the salt flats ahead seem to stretch on into infinity.
"I won't die here," he says to himself, willing his magic to push him one last time. Not that it does, unfortunately. He's on his own, slowly and weakly fluttering to the end.
It's been grueling, a brutal test of will and endurance. And Kaizer now just wants to curl up in a garden and sleep, to lie down and rest. There is no time for that yet, though.
If I could just go a little faster... Yet, his magic doesn't seem to respond, and its left trekking, salt clinging to his fur.
The Trial was almost over. The end was near. And though the next step contained no discernable enemies, no eyehooks, scorpions, or sandworms that could burst out of the ground and eat a gembound in one gulp, Wisperia saw the heatwaves that had cooked the Salt Flats into a scorching expanse of nothingness. There was nowhere to hide. She would not be able to climb, to avoid the heat that would surely burn her toes. But the pain would be manageable. It was something that had to be done in the end, and if that was the case, she hoped to be first. Wisperia had never intended to join for the reward exactly, more to survey the other gembounds here. But now that the opportunity lay ahead of her, she would take it. She could not stop a hiss from escaping her mouth as she crawled across, but in a way the pain pushed her forward. And being exposed, vulnerable in these flats was just another reason to keep going as far away from them as possible.
Wisperia is moving forward.
Huntsman was the only other gembound in his vicinity. There was the option of attempting sabotage, revenge for all the times he had attempted to attack him. But at the same time, he knew he would need all the energy he could get to pass these salt flats. He looked to Huntsman, then at the road that lay ahead. Make a decision. And though logic told him to hold back, to survive, his emotions overwhelmed anything that he might've had left. The Hydra heat was getting to him, sapping away at his sanity. And all he saw when he looked at Huntsman was a need for
revenge.
He flew up and over the gembound, then quickly folded in his wings, pulling into a dive that would try and hit Huntsman from above and take him out.
@Huntsman
He'd continue on foot, stinging both from the lingering poisons and the loss of a victory that seemed so easy and sweet. The sight of competitors disappearing into the distance stun was like sand stuck between the plates of chitin armoring his legs, and latent anger threatened to boil him like the heat beating him into the ground. Like a lobster in it's shell.
He was so focused on these thoughts- on frustration and self pity- that he did not notice Hymn until he was directly above. And even then, his heat-addled brain was briefly grateful for the shade.
Until he realized who it was.
He was not quick enough. He was pushed against the unforgiving ground, six legs splaying out uselessly and twitching like a crushed insect. He wheezed as the breath was shoved out from his lungs.
@Hymn
There was no more winning. There was nothing to lose, for he had already lost.
He stood, gaze snapping to Hymn. Before Hymn could truly retreat or make any good distance, Huntsman sprang forward. His wings were sore from overuse but hopefully this would be the last time they would be needed. Flying up from below to snatch Hymn by the leg and drag him down to the dirt.
Let them scrabble in the dust like true animals.
He missed. His last chance to catch his prey- gone.
He wanted to scream, but he had not the air in his lungs.
@Hymn
Almost there. Almost done.
The heat was so intense it was nearly intangible and most definitely visible in the wavering air. It made the whole thing seem almost unreal, like a dream peeling at the edges.
He wanted nothing more but to rest- to let his gemstone consume him- but then where would he be? Still set in the middle of the frying pan, set to leap into the fire as soon as he decided to wake- unless he never did.
At that point, he may as well die. And he wasn't doing that so close to the finish line.
Unfortunately, his body chose for him.
His legs gave out beneath him, landing him on stone hotter and more unforgiving than the 'sun' roasting him from above.
He was so tired.
He did not want to stand back up.
Maybe it wouldn't be so hot when he wakes up tomorrow.
There is a tomorrow.
Right?
[One is Dying :)]