He turned, blinking against the light of the wisp and the dim glint of the band around his gemstone horn. The others were starting off, now, clustered into the pool of light, and Warrior realized only too quickly where this wisp was leading them.
The Dead Marsh, he thought, with rising dread. Nausea threatened to rise in him. It was where he'd hatched, and immediately nearly drowned; where the Eyehooks had swarmed him. It was deadly even on bright, clear days. The air was bad, in places: enough to kill in a few moments. He remembered Nemean striking Gembound back into the sucking mud. He remembered screams and struggling bodies, and he shuddered.
"We're heading toward the marsh," he warned, and some instinct had him drop to the rear of the group, guarding it, twisting to and fro at the light's edge as if herding them. "There's poisonous air, there--you can't see it, and it can kill you, but it isn't everywhere. Watch your step if we have to go through--there's holes you can't see under the water. And the sand, the mud, it can drag you down and drown you. If there's Eyehooks they might attack us," he added, but doubtfully; he didn't think anything would be out in this unnatural black.
He reached his senses out, nonetheless, keeping watch: maybe it would be another Ice Worm type creature, burrowing through the earth to erupt beneath and grind them to pieces.
What the heck is that WHAT THE HECK IS THAT I knew there was something weird in the dark. Oh no Oh no that's definitely bad.
It was safe to say Owlface was more than a little freaked out. What he sensed in the darkness was deeply unnerving, and the fact he sensed the same thing from the strange dog was even more unnerving. "Guys! There's something in the darkness thats.. weird. Its.. Alive? He said, his voice somewhat panicked.
Then the wisp started moving and Owlface knew getting left behind in the dark could be their doom. Or anyone's doom. He'd nod as Kini spoke. "Make sure to stay in the light!" He added. Owlface would try it's best to stay with it's family, or at the very least, with the group. His eyes and ears strained, he'd keep glancing at the dark, looking for anything odd, and kept his ears peeled for any strange noises, though it was hard with all the voices and pounding footsteps of the others in the group.
Fireheart offered a nod to Nassir. "There are many," he agreed, in a murmur. And then, with a sharper glance to the black leopard, "Call out if you need me." He split away then, each of the Seven's guardians taking a flank, and when the wisp and the Gembound began to move Fireheart padded dutifully along.
Quiet, alert, his ember eyes scanned the darkness. He'd already raised a wisp, and taken a glowing stone, but after a moment's debate he decided to raise another tiny glint of light.
Warmth prickled up around him, his eyes flaring with firelight. It wouldn't do much, but it was something: and those flaming eyes warily searched the shadows for danger as they went.
He did not take a glowing item; he instead simply shoved forward, trudging along at the edges of the group, almost touching the shadows with each stride. And he did not speak further, for now; the ghostly grip that squeezed one shoulder to pain, the whispers that darted to and fro around him--rising in their intensity--had him well enough distracted. The ground he walked on was stained black, Hydra's sands darkening underfoot, so that he left a trail of onyx grains behind him.
Black heard what Warrior was saying, and slowly, stolidly, past the constant distractions, he committed them to memory. Clawed fingers tightened around the halberd's haft as he trudged onward.
Mud. Quicksand. Poisonous air.
Idly, half his mind elsewhere, he reached out his magic to tug at the shadows that shrouded them. He knew his magic; he knew he could control the movments of the darkness. Perhaps he could enlarge their sphere of light, if just a little.
He was noting, though, even as he did so, that this darkness, too, was magical. He could not see into it quite so well as he could in usual shadows; he could see the rim of sand at the edges and then beyond, nothing, as if the world beyond the wisplight had been dipped into the Void.
He was large, so he felt like he could absolutely protect the others in the event of... His eyes squinted into the darkness. Well, in the event of anything, he supposed; yes, protect them from whatever shapes had been seen just before the darkness fell, or whatever it was that wanted to eat the lights. Ifrit moved carefully with the lot of them, still staying the most close to his family, and nodding when Kini suggested the smaller creatures hitch a ride.
"Yes, plenty of room here too," he offered, echoing another voice he had heard in the darkness.
Another voice—softer, in secret: Sora—suggested they not have the lights at all, if whatever was out there wanted to eat them. His eyes widened for a moment. Yeah... wait a minute, why were they bringing lights!? Or doing this at all!? But as the group began to move, he shuffled along with them.
He tried to be careful with his knobby legs, his head lowered into the group with the shimmering, haunting white glow of the baubled stone perched like a ghost in the circlet. Below that were his eyes, aflame and aglow—and as he focused on keeping the warmth present, he noticed another pair just like his somewhere in the shadow.
The warmth was steady, emanating from his body but lost almost immediately upon touching the air. Whatever chill loomed beyond their group of light was enough to spook him, certainly, and he also most certainly did not like it. A voice began to explain to them the dangers that lurked around them, that were not the darkness, and he frowned.
Hmm yeah, he kind of wanted to go back to sleep, but he also refused to leave the others.
The dark was… oppressive, to say the least. If they weren't crowded by twenty-some Gembound, Howl — at least this one — might've thought they were in a lapse in time. Lost time, more accurately put. When they weren't behind the wheel, there was nothing. The Host often left messes for them to clean up, the scarce few times he came out.
Again, like now.
It was clear that they should keep their head down and maintain their position. The shadows were stiflingly cold and unsettling. Middle of the pack was where most of the light — and warmth — was.
The first thing Nassir noticed was the sucking ground. It reminded him of the bloody swamp in Cetus — of Pride lying in it. It came up to his elbows at one point, and he hobbled out of it. Warrior's advice came, and the black panther lifted his snout to the air, wincing at the rotten-egg and stagnant water smells.
Just follow the wisp, he urged himself, even if this is exactly how your chrysalis nightmares played out. Nassir took a moment to steady his breathing.
They seemingly needed all the light they could get, so he tried to urge a warm glow into being. With any luck, it'd peel back at least some of the darkness, give them all some breathing room while he maintained focus.
Her mane puffed out as they entered (not without another glance to the four toxic eyes following her out) that crushing darkness. Trepidation sank its teeth deep into what few bones she had. This… was not her forte. Elyon looked across the group, and skirted towards the back. There wasn't a tangible thing to fight, nothing to face head-on.
Just dead silence from the Marsh, the sound of panting, feet pounding on the ground, and the gentle clang of halberd against shield.
The least she could do was shove others closer into the circle of light, lest they lose pace. If someone had to be picked up and carried, she'd do it.
'Deep breath in, deep breath out.' He could do this.
What exactly he was doing still eluded him, but the Merchant's instructions were clear. Follow the wisp. He felt a tinge of dread as the narrow light seeped into the darkness, shadows pressing to whuff it out at any moment. The illuminated area was just barely large enough for them all of them to fit together, so he slithered forward gingerly to stay within. Sora had suggested to drop the baubles... No. He wasn't brave enough to do that. He'll just follow the wisp, thank-you-very much.
Fine grains of sand rolled against his serpentine body, a feeling Simon had never experienced before. An unnerving feeling. He should listen to Kini's advice-- it wasn't very easy to slither through sand, and he didn't want to tire himself out too soon. "Morganite?" he whisper-called out, unable to distinguish where they were in the low light and stagnant air. "Do you mind if I took a ride on your back?"
The word broke the silence, feeling almost blasphemous to do so, and the fossa stiffened, looked up to follow it, looked back to take in the group - some of them would stand out, were very very tall, but for the mast part they were of average, or middling, height, some of them would struggle to keep up he feared.
And there were other things, he feared, too. The flood he remembered, the quicksands and the salt flats. The massive worms that had killed the snake, the vulture what had stolen his Vinnie.
But though it didn't look like Vincenzo, not truly, the carving on his bauble looked close enough, and its light, though in reality neither hot nor cold, burned courage where it sat on his chest.
The Light was going, so charred ears twitched back, and though he worried, he leaped down and trotted after it.