he finally let some tears break free, listening to what was left of his families voices as he trudged onward, coughing, his eyes blurry and he staggered. "thank you, thank you.." he twittered to his rescuers and protectors, sniffling. he could almost not see, his eyes stinging and lungs burning, but he was here, taking breaths of cold, fresh-ish air in. he decided to finally stay put and try and just stay with the group.

He flew back to his family, the shadows licking at his feet as he stumbled almost blindly towards the faint, barely illuminated figures of his family, shivering. "im here, im alive, im safe" he twittered shakily


PUMPKIN is rolling to survive.

Rainstorm watched as flames engulfed the torch, more of the light around them dissipating. It seemed like every time they lit a torch, more of their light left them, as if the torch was the thing stealing their light away, when it shouldn't be the case due to new light being created to set the wood aflame. Maybe the darkness was alive - it sure felt that way. Dragging and pulling at the gembound in the group until they were no more.

Rainstorm tried to ignore the sounds of another being lost - they really did. It wasn't good. A lot of them were falling to their deaths, the bird hoped they wouldn't be among the ones that did end up lost in the end. They wanted to leave this place with their gemstone intact, with their body whole even if the gas from before would cause them permanent issues.

They wanted to survive.

Rainstorm moved to keep up with the light. Sudden strength in their bones.

Rainstorm is rolling to survive

Morganite trotted forward and away from the darkness as it grew closer, staying within the light. Their ears pinned down against their skull as the wails and awful shrieking broke the tense silence, and they gathered up everyone they could in a motherly fashion, like a duck rounding up her brood. They checked on everyone quietly, offering a word to them.

"You can use me or Ifrit as a perch, Pumpkin," they said to the shrike softly, offering their horns to the bird, before looking to Charles, "You too, Charles. You don't want your wings getting too tired, lest you need to fly away swiftly."

To Ifrit, they stood beside him and nudged him gently, a gesture of reassurance. With Kini gone... they had to be strong. Had to offer everyone comfort and strength when their shoulder to lean on had disappeared into shadows. Orenstein was nudged into her side as if he were a calf, and then Anemoi was also pressed into their other side.

And finally... Sora.

"... Thank you," Morganite said, their voice so soft it was nearly inaudible.

They appreciated the support of the other, the both of them knowing that there was a gap that had to be filled now that Kini was gone. They felt their thoughts start to delve into memories of their friend, and they stopped them before they could go too far. If they broke down now... then none of them would survive.

MORGANITE is rolling to stay in the light.

The sand shifted.

A slow, lurching gait. A serpentine body coiled through the sand. His pace was uneasy, almost painful, and leaned horribly to one side. A metallic necklace clinged softly. To those with strong noses, the slight scent of musk wafted off from someplace behind them.

"Help me," it was the voice of Simon. Strained and raspy, as if he had been screaming for a long time. A pause. It came again. "Help me. I can't see. I can't see please help me I'm scared--" It cut off again. The tone was off, wavering high and low, yet... strange. Perhaps he's just hoarse.

Blood dripped softly against sand. "Sora-- Sora, where are you? Please, don't leave me behind. I'm scared. Don't leave me."

Serpentine slithers. Blood drips.

Sora steeled herself against the darkness as the shadows grew greater. "Its almost over. This is almost over. We'll make it, in some fashion. I swear on every stone lost to the shadows -- our family will never fade into nothingness." Her eye burned with a deep-set determination. "C'mon, everyone. Deep breaths. Game faces. We can get through this together." She offered some facsimile of a grin as she pressed on with her family, keeping a sharp eye on the darkness.

She caught the smell before she heard it. The slow, rhythmic clicking... and then the strained cry. Simon. Sora's gait stuttered, and she closed her eyes tightly. He was screaming for her, wasn't he--? No. No, it was the shadows. She set her jaw firmly. This was... too far, but she couldn't bring herself to ignore the voice totally. "Its okay, Simon," she said somewhat hoarsely. "You don't have to be afraid of the dark." She was quite sure that it wasn't really him... but if it was, even just a little bit, she needed to comfort him. She needed to be his sister. Then, she addressed the shadows, hoping they could hear her, too -- a low growl-like sound settled in her chest. "BUT YOU'LL REGRET STEALING THE SOUL OF MY BROTHER!"

The hog had no clue how she'd follow through with her threat. It wasn't like she could kick a shadow, and she certainly wasn't going to pitch herself into them. Simon, Owlface, and Kini-yolotl had been lost trying to do the same. She had to stay with her family now. She had to protect them.


SORA is rolling to survive.

Wings beat in the darkness.

Stuttering, awkward. A glowing rope knocked feathers free.

A thud. Shuffling, staggering, ambling paw steps, reeling. "Please. Help me, I'm so scared." the hollow voice called, "It's so dark... I'm afraid of the dark... I don't want to be alone... where are you?"

The wings beat. Heavy, uneven.

"Don't let me die... please, I'm so scared..."

Off in the darkness, something stirred. Sand crunched between hooves in a slow, erratic rhythm as someone walked through the darkness.

" The monsters are coming!" Came the screeching call of Owlface, loud and panicked yet… hollow. As if in shock, or simply exhausted from chasing after Simon. There was the sound of shifting sand, heavy, uneven steps, and the powerful stench of blood.

"The monsters are coming! Run from the light!" The voice sounded again, somehow both panicked and completely empty. "They'll eat whoever wears the light! Hide in the shadows!" He cried, the final warning.

Then it was just Silence. Silence, the occasional shifting of sand, and the sickening smell of blood.

"You left us," came the sorrowful cry of Usingizi.

She sounded as if she were holding back tears, yet on the verge of screaming at the same time. A wet sound, as she slid through the sand. It sounded like she were crawling over her own path of weeping wounds. The sand sticking to her body, and what was left of her sweater. Tinged red with blood. Her path meandered. Stop, then start. Stop, then start. As if she couldn't quite find the way back into the light.

"You left us back there, in the marsh and the darkness. All of us." Her voice dipped, becoming a trembling, low timbre.

"So cruel to leave us. But its okay. You can make this right. Come help us. Me. Any of us."

"I'm not strong enough to make it back on my own." She said. Her voice ended strangled and wet. A wound reopened, perhaps, throwing off her speech. "I need help. Someone to carry me. Please." She begged, and then she was quiet. Tired.

The horse called out, screaming in the darkness, and the fossa lunged, lurching to the edge of the light, before hesitating, the sound dying to gurgles, and then to nothing. While he wasn't small, he was'nt large, and there was nothing he could do to save a drowning horse. So, though it hurt, and he felt as though he were betraying Vinnie, Vincenzo whose token he wore on his chest, who had followed him into Hydra the first time and died for it.


The brown bird was twittering, but he couldn't listen for long as blood-scent filled the air, awful musk, and then voices, voices of those who had fallen, and the fossa's fur stood on end, fighting the urge to bolt, curling back burnt lips and baring yellowed teeth. "Don't listen to them!" he barked, quills quivering, "Stay in the light, don't risk yourselves."

Mayngo is rolling to protect the entire group.

The rampant storm of hooves and hoof-like appendages could be heard, clobbering the sand into the shapes of a clouds, sending them to billow through the darkness. For those with a diligent ear, the direction from whence this crazed storm came from would sound rather... nonsensical. Frenzied. Searching.

"PUMPKI-IN!!! MO-ORGANITE..." It called, voice throbbing, almost sing-songy, yearning, stretching vowels and twisting tunes. "PLEASE!! We're UNDER ATTA-ack, they're LOOKING for the LIGHT!" A pause, followed by some kind of gut-wrenching shriek, "THEY FOUND SIMON! PLEASE!" The scent of blood might have been noticeably thick. Yet another bout of silence, yet another lurching yell, "You must HELP US! I can't-- I can't DO-o this alone..." The tone of the plea couldn't keep straight, it wobbled and vacillated like an acrobat on a tightrope. It just couldn't stay... it just had to go...