His bat-ears twitched a split-second before the thing erupted from the snow behind them. The vibration, the rumble--he heard it, as much as felt it, he sensed something was coming.

Something huge.

He didn't bother with his magic, this time. He took flight, squawking with alarm, wingbeats frantically, clumsily driving him higher. He couldn't see what it was. He couldn't see the danger. Couldn't see what was chasing them. Fucking Nemean. Fucking Vargas! he thought, for the hundredth time, even as his wings struggled to bear him aloft. Scorpion-tail lashed behind him as he fought for altitude.

He couldn't see, but he fucking sensed it--he heard it; he'd seen, with his magic, the massive heartbeat lethargically pulsing behind them prior. And now it was here, he thought--whatever it was--and he tore for the sky.

"RUN!" he screamed, in warning, and he felt a wrench of guilt (and that was a first) about leaving them below.

It all happened in an instant, a second or a fraction of, and Imp could not see the size of the thing that had plowed forth from below. Whether he'd get high enough in time to escape its jaws was an uncertainty--and if he did make it, it would be a damn close thing.

There was a great clamoring of voices behind her, but the sound was lost to the blasting wind as she forged a path ahead. Only when rumbling came full-force underfoot - and when Imp completely bailed - did Virgil finally turn around.

Right into a gaping maw lined with more teeth than anything could reasonably count in such a short time frame.

A shrill cry echoed from her as she bucked once - trying to get momentum - and absolutely hauled ass slightly to the side, and in a completely straight line.

The explosion of snow behind them had Lyra bark loudly with alarm. She watched with wide eyes as the huge beast reared before them, jaws wide enough to devour all of them in a single bite. Crying out with terror, she dug into Virgil's coarse hair as she let out a cry and bucked. For a second, Lyra thought she was gonna fall off, but then the moment passed and she was holding tight to the bison as she sprinted away.

The rumbling from behind grew louder and louder, and then drifted off. Even as she was in the midst of trying to lecture the fox with a series of poorly used swears and angry yelling, she could hear it. The rumbling grew, and ended in an explosion of snow. It didn't sound too far from her current group. Kalama quieted. She'd heard terrified cries. They sounded familiar. Then it clicked--it was the group of gembound Imp had been traveling with. She was the only one allowed to terrify anyone in her group--especially her rival. She crowed loudly, her war cry, before she charged in their direction.

Slowly, the fuzzy shapes of the trio became clearer through the haze of snow. And...a fourth shape. A massive shape. That wasn't there before. It was the source of the rumbling, the thing she'd feared earlier. She felt a sort of dominance over the beast. Was this the thing that scared her? It was only like two or three times as large as Virgil. She could kill it easily. Kalama had killed that eyehook vulture, she tore through it easy as a dead leaf. She could kill whatever else this snowscape threw at her. She rode the high of adrenaline, and she could barely feel the cold beneath her feathers.

"Snow worm!" She cried out as she got closer to the trio and their pursuer. "You will meet your end today!" The closer she got, the bigger it seemed. The glinting teeth, the speed at which it plowed through the snow. The sheer size. Were Kalama smarter, these things would've given her pause. But Kalama wasn't smart most of the time, and especially not today.

She bent her legs, and launched herself at the beast, screeching all the while. Given her bulk, her wings were small. Too small for Kalama to ever achieve true flight. But they were enough. With a series of flaps, she propelled herself onto the beast's hide.

She was near the head of it, she could see its maw. Kalama scrabbled with her talons and beak to gain purchase, but even that was a battle. The worm's hide was like icy rock beneath her talons, and she clung only barely by ridges in its hide.

The wind itself fought her. Each time it broke through a clump of snow or ice she was jostled about, like a twig in rapids. But through it all, Kalama laughed. A manic sound. "Witness me!" She cried.


think "speak"

In an instant, Wynter's fate was changing.

The others vanished behind a sheet of white, and a horrible rumbling opened up into a massive maw behind the sheep-deer hybrid. He swung his head toward the thousands of teeth, the endless void that tore through the snow behind him.

The bison carrying a few others surged to one side, and his feet kicked in the opposite direction, peeling toward the opposite side in hopes that it would charge past both of them. Snow kicked up behind his hooves, and behind him he heard one of the rooster-creatures screech a challenge at the snow worm.

"No, don't!" Wynter shouted, desperate to be heard above the blizzard as he spun on his stilty legs, scanning the blur of motion and wind for signs of the others. "Are you out of your mind?!"

WYNTER HASIRA
Like walking in the rain and the snow
When there's nowhere to go
And you're feelin' like a part of you is dying

for bad words again

The pulse was getting closer. The sound of the ground rending made his fur prickle, but he only stole one look back to get an idea of what exactly was chasing them. Through the flurry, he could see the blur of the stragglers surging out of the way as best they could, and further behind them... A massive, terrifying mouth of teeth.

Well, that was terrifying. It was like Noodle Dad, near as he could tell, except he didn't think that old bastard has nearly as many teeth. Fisher literally couldn't see anything but the endless teeth going into the darkness-- and y'know, that was good enough for him. Healthy dose of fear to keep going.

"Alright, let's get to that Crucible or whatever A S A P!" He barked, "before we all get eaten! Sounds good to me!" He charged through the snow, no longer caring about the cold stinging his paws or the ache in his lungs. Nope, somehow that all seemed reaaaally minor compared to the massive "snow worm" on their ass.

The worm hurtled in one great, smooth leap after the fleeing Gembound, crashing down yards behind them and vanishing back into the snow. Kalama's talons tore along the ridges, its hide like hooked scales and pole-thick bristles, and rather than piercing they simply caught along its length, dragging her along with it. She would find her talons snagged on the Ice Worm, her body banging alongside its massive breadth...

An instant later the beast was gone, eerie silence pervading. And so was Kalama - nowhere to be seen, taken beneath the sands alongside the enormous Ice Worm.

Ahead, the snow cleared briefly, slightly, and the routes to the Crucible were clear. The Gembound had a choice:

To go through the Dead Marshes, with the dangers of failing ice underfoot and the deadly quicksand beneath; or the Sand Dunes, to where the rumbling was now receding. Gembound could perhaps split up between these two regions, if they so chose.

The cold, too, was now unnaturally bitter. It was almost difficult to think, painfully biting, and the snow swept back in to curtain all vision.

Gembound must choose which direction to head in, individually; and they must roll now against falling behind, lost in the snow once more. Critical failures will result in severe frostbite numbing all extremities as well as becoming lost.

Those who succeed in their rolls must clarify the direction they are taking, and whether they are moving ahead or staying with the group.

Kalama may attempt a survival roll and succeed with a 15+; however, both legs, should she make it out of the Ice Worm's hole, will be broken. If she fails, she will die, crushed and dragged beneath the closing sands by the Ice Worm's descent. Her stone will not be recoverable.

Those in second place may choose to remain behind with Kalama, at their risk.

Placements:
1st: Desert Rose, Agate, Palefur
2nd: Null, Virgil, Vinea, Hargrave, Imp, Ivory, Warrior, Wynter, Fisher, Lyra, Shida, Oleander
3rd: Kalama

@Desert Rose Thirty-Five (Null) @Imp (Ivory, Warrior) @Agate Two-Three-Six (Wynter, Fisher) @Virgil (Vinea, Hargrave) @Shida (Palefur, Lyra, Oleander) @Kalama

TW:brief mention of vomit.

The ice worm leaped into the sky, and Kalama's vision shifted with it. the world was a blur of white, and she could hardly tell up from down. At the peak of its ascent, Kalama decided it was time to let go. She'd proved her point. She felt satisfied. She could let go now. It'd be the perfect time to pose as she landed. The whole group knew of her heroism! She'd scared the worm off. But something strange was happening. Her talons. She couldn't move them. Even her feathers were glued to the worm. And then it's head breached the snow beneath. The bravado from earlier was replaced with a cold shock. The realization she could very well die. There was no adrenaline anymore. The rare emotion known as fear cropped up within her. "H-Help", were the last words the chicken was able to get out before the snow swallowed her, along with the worm.

The snow closed over her. There was nothing to see but black nothingness. Even still, she felt the snow and rocks batter her body as she was dragged along, gaining numerous bruises and gashes. In a moment of panic, she took a breath, only to have her lungs filled with a mixture of cold snow and sand. She thought she'd be dragged even further, deeper under the sand too, along with the worm. She wasnt sure what happened, but she hit something as she was dragged. Perhaphs it was due to the grace of the Masters. Perhaps it was simply pure luck.

But whatever she collided with dislodged her. The sheer impact, along with the speed at which the worm dove nearly tore her in two. Instead, her legs were torn apart. They were fractured near instantly. She screeched in pain, but the snow in her lungs prevented the slightest whimper. Suddenly, and without warning, She vomited. It was a thick slurry of sand and yellowed water. She took in air, but it was thin and nearly free of oxygen. Her consciousness began to wane, but Kalama hung on. The near primal knowledge that if she went unconscious here, she'd die. She couldn't move her legs.

But her eyes blinked, and her wings twitched. She could still escape. She could still live. She reached up, feebly grasping at the ground above her. It was a cycle. Stopping when the pain grew to be too much, or when her fatiguing body gave out on her. Continuing when she'd regained enough strength for one more push. She could've climbed for thirty minutes, thirty days, thirty cycles. It all felt the same to her. But eventually, her wing claws struck cold air. Desperate for air, true air, she stuck her beak out. The thinnest wisp of breath entered her lungs. She'd take it. She clawed a big enough gap for her to breath, and not suffocate beneath the snow. She'd lived. There was no pride, just exhaustion. She'd stay right there, in that spot. Just to rest for a bit.


think "speak"

There was no way for him to be aware of the sinking chicken- but even then, the air had rumbled with the beast's emergence, and set his dulling senses into focus. He couldn't see what had happened from here. Was there a betrayal, this early? With this group?

He shook his head as he surged forward, hot on the Agate's trail. However, here, with the snow, there was barely any way for him to truly follow.

And all at once it fell away, bringing in seeping, invisible cold, as he could faintly see his surroundings. He was on the right track. The Dunes would be under him as he continued on, thoughts stalling in his idling mind as he put himself into the motions.

He wouldn't be able to fly for much longer. Not with this weather, not as the snow came back to slam into him. Flying straight seemed to be the last thing he was capable of doing, but he had to persevere. Not for prizes, not for the Sentinels, but for the example of his capability to survive.

Desert will be moving ahead over the Dunes. (if he succeeds this roll >->;)

Orientation was-... difficult. He heard the roar, the slam and the rush, of the Ice Worm as it surged out, then down and away through the earth. He heard the cries and movements of the others, though it was difficult to tell who had survived, and who had not.

He hovered briefly, carried high by a gust of bitter wind, ears aching almost at once with its icy bite. He had heard Kalama's challenge, her manic laughter, followed by her pathetic cry for help. He couldn't tell if the snow-muffled thunder of hooves below was Virgil escaping, after all, or Ivory and the rest, and he had no time, as he came to settle back on the snow's surface, to find out.

Fear rippled through him, and he aimed for Kalama. She was an asshole, but she was his asshole.

...So to speak.

For a few moments, he feared calling out, feared trying to find the others, for doing so might draw the Ice Worm back to him. Instead he huddled, shivering, lost in the white--not that he could see it anyway--and hoped he was facing the right direction.

He was not. And his call, when it eventually came--a hesitant "...KALAMA-?" was lost to the roar of the storm.