Shango was happily--or, at least, blithely--wandering along the floor of the ravine, now. The canyon was narrow--almost too narrow to fly through, not that he could properly fly anyway. The hybrid wasn't sure how far they had left to go, but he was content in the moment: it was raining, the rain was only growing heavier, it was cooling, foggy, the wind picking up.
It was--of course--a storm.
Shango felt in his element, though when others began to cry out--to leap skyward, or for the ridges--he turned and glanced sharply behind him. Alarm took him--a wall of water was hurtling through the pass, coming up behind him.
Shango turned, leaping into action with a swift bound, ghostlight eyes widening. His magic welled up instinctively, and he willed himself to be taken airborne, to glide over the water with the storm's wind beneath his scalefeathered wings. On this new wind he glided, and banked--and realized quickly that he could hardly see past the thick fog. Eyes narrowed, head lowering and ears flattening against the battering torrents of rain. He swept low, but not too low, his winds keeping him safely over the water but close enough to see it clearly. Twice he accidentally dipped in, barely lifting himself out before it truly caught him, and adrenaline sharpened his reflexes so that he was twisting and angling second-by-second for his life. Logs, mud, even boulders went flashing by beneath him, and he turned, peering back as he glided for those who may have been taken by the flood.
For once, he didn't seem to feel the need to bellow "STORM," probably because by now, it would be clear to everyone.
Shango will NOT be pushing ahead, but remaining behind for those who might need aid.
The Crucible, in its absence, had become far more tempestuous than Garnet Five-Seven-Nine remembered. One of the Gembound's (clearly the one that kept shouting STOOORM like a fool) conjured rainfall had somehow become a torrential downpour, massive raindrops spattering against its shell as it hopped from ledge to ledge. Large ears tilted back, catching the rumblings of something massive on the way, and the water running down each plateau was gradually pouring into larger and larger streams.
This has not been in the prior trials.
Water thundered down the pass, coming into waves and surges of nearly twelve feet. When one was a hybrid barely weighing two pounds, and not even three when wet: that was bad. Garnet Five-Seven-Nine scrambled up to the highest ledge it possibly could, feathery trophy halfway in its mouth by this point. With a wall of floodwaters basically tickling its tail, it sprung toward the center of the path (there was less of a likelihood of getting dashed across some rocks) with wings outstretched just enough to carry it about three feet and stabilize it.
With the tumultuous waves crashing around its, the creature sucked in a deep breath, and withdrew every part of its body into its shell as best it could. It was an instinctive action, when faced with water and natural buoyancy, but Garnet Five-Seven-Nine was placing a lot of faith in not winding up with its organs exposed via shell-smashing.
Garnet Five-Seven-Nine is advancing.
Ru trotted down the winding tunnels, rain from that storm creature dotting their hide. They occasionally glanced back at their group. They were unsure about the newest addition, the Opal, so it was best for it to be prepared in case anything happened. Plus, the fact the group had expanded to four members made Ru nervous. Were there one more, it'd be too many to keep track of at once at ease. The rain was coming down harder now, instead of a patter the rain roared, coming in sheets. The Opal was talking to Asimona, words that would sow doubt, and by extension perhaphs threaten Ru's place.
Opal was not wrong, but it was a truth that Ru did not want out in the open. It glanced back once more. It paused in its steps, noticing that one of their teammates was not with them. The Agate. It stifled a sigh, and dropped its trophy, placing a hoof on it so that it wouldn't drift away in the rain water, which seemed to have picked up in strength. The rumble of thunder began once again. It turned back.
"The Agate...." It's voice trailed off into a meek, unflattering sound. That was not the rumble of thunder. Thunder did not last that long. A wall of water behind them, nearing massive heights. This was nothing that Ru remembered from previous trials.
"Run." It whispered fearfully. And without another word, it grabbed its finger and began to gallop off in search of a place to ride out the water.
The canyon bended sharply ahead, and a shelf upon the wall provided a small divot. Ru climbed with the desperation of a gembound drowning, tucking its body best it could against the wall, waiting for the flood to roar past.
Ru is staying put