Everything was chaos, everything was tearing apart amidst the screams and rampant violence, and the only thing Cayenne could do was grip onto her sister who had jumped onto the bull's back and hold onto her for dear life, feeling her sister sob against her arms. Cayenne's breth was in her throat and her heart around her ears, and as the gembounds all made their own escapes out of the room, the only sound that Cayenne could hear was that of her tree tumbling down as the golems grabbed and threw themselves at it and held onto it for its leftover tendrils of magic.

Cayenne could hear a scream at the edge of her hearing, but it wasn't until much later when her throat was raw that she realized it was her.

When the last of Polaris disappeared from view as the bull made their escape, she finally turned to her sister and cried with her, the memory of her home being destroyed burned into her eyelids.
[exit Cayenne]

Dovefeather couldn't breathe as they ran, Cayenne screaming the entire way. gruesome images danced in her imagination, even as they drew father and farther from the chaos. When the blue light faded, and black fur nestled into her chest, she found herself instinctively grooming at her sister.

She was sure they were okay now.

Though even when she tried, she couldn't manage to stir the bees in her chest. She couldn't even speak. She wanted to get back home, back to the All Mother's Eyes as soon as possible...

But wherever Caravaggio was taking them, it would have to be good enough.

;; dove exit

The cow bowled through the golems, sending a few of them flying, but for the most part they began to grind against one another and roll towards his legs, brushing and pushing and attempting to grab at his stone. When he left, they were given nothing to support themselves against and seemed to topple into each other, now pushing and sprawling against the tree that the lemur had once been hiding in. With no source of magic coming from it any longer, they turned their attention to the Gembounds that were surrounding them. A particular large golem with a massive boulder for its body began to roll towards Quintus and Tennessee, groaning all the way. A second golem began to make its way towards the downed Euron, and a third, awkwardly shaped golem was churning away towards Fallah, Fisher and Black. From behind them, another wave of golems were beginning to approach, though they were smaller their intent was clear. They were attempting to close the Gembounds in.

@Tennessee @Quintus @Euron @Fallah @Fisher @Black

but at least we stole the show

Fisher was pretty goshdarn scared. There were a lot of golems. He was pretty sure he had brought his friends into a death trap. Gembounds were fleeing everywhere, and a massive, ugly golem was lumbering closer to him. In the corner of his vision he caught movement and he saw the smaller stone monsters create a blockade, drawing in on them.

They were going to get trapped here. Black barked to run, but unless they made a gap it would be hard to. Despite everything in the mustelid's gut telling him NO YOU IDIOT, he pulled at his magic. Begged for help. For mercy. For anything.

The storm roared above them. Lightning crashed down towards the golems, the clouds above growing dark at his will. Somehow, he hadn't managed to get himself and everyone involved killed. He was... Actually helping, maybe?

@Black @Fallah

This time, when he barreled forward, he forgot the rest. He hoped, vaguely, that they listened to his warnings: but they did not run, for now. He forgot them; they fell from his mind, leaves in autumn. Instead his mind snapped to the golems, crystal clarity framing the scene for him.

There was one stumbling toward him, and with a rumbling growl, he barreled forward. Claws ripped at the stone, his black fur a shadowy void. He would collide with it: flesh and bone to stone. Flesh and bone were better. This was his chosen form. He had chosen it for a reason. Hadn't he? Or it had been chosen for him. This was his purpose.

Lightning crashed.

Collison. Guttural growl. Claws scratching as he gained purchase on the rock. The shudder of ferocity that ran through him, hot through cold black. Flesh collided with stone, his full weight thrown against the moving stone.

Fall.

________________

The moment seemed to freeze. The golems tore slowly towards the group. Some fled. Others stayed. To Fallah's side, her companions bristled, ready for battle. It was familiar. Dust and grit hovered in the air rather than flying through it. She could feel Fisher's magic, hot and electric. She could feel Black's purpose, dark and solid. The scene around them slow, but cutting. Bitter. Metallic. It was... Fallah's heart beat steadily. Did she hate it? Did she love it? Her friends here, fighting with her. Their unbreakable bond keeping them together through all the past fights. Stronger than stone. They were in danger, though, weren't they? She should hate it. She wanted to keep them safe, but... she wanted to fight next to them... until her dying breath.

She loved it.

She loved this bond. She loved them. With or without the fight, she decided, just being beside her companions, supporting each other in battle or otherwise.

Fallah loved it.

All at once, the fight resumed motion. Grit whirled in the air as the golems crashed around them. Black's form blurring from Fallah's peripheral as lightning cracked above them. Icy eyes focused on the target ahead. It was time.

"Speech"

Forgot to roll.

"Large paws gripped the ground, claws digging in to launch the Lynx forward. Her weight shifted to her left as she curved to get a better angle at the golem and not Black. Her magic surged forward, sharp and cold. Fallah aimed to blast ice at the creature's head, hoping the added weight to its wonky form would throw it off balance."

"Speech"

This scene was a buffet of trauma, cold brutish and wrong. Lives and homes being destroyed. And he couldn't save them, his magic being of no help. It was too late, his connection to such element giving him nothing but a searing pain that tormented his heart. He could feel the fear, the suffering of nature. He had but no choice to leave, to drag himself. He had failed to leave willingly, multiple times. But this was no debate; his body could take no more of this. He was of little help to them and would only endanger them should someone be a hero.

Pulling himself upwards he climbed up the wavering trees, leaping across their branches and away from such event. Vision blurred and face wet he escaped.

"I'm sorry..."

[exit]


"Speech"