He hadn't been planning on going back. He wasn't going back. At least, that was the 'plan' he'd been going to stick to. They were delusional, waging a war beside beasts who would destroy them before they ever found a way to fight the worm that had taken some of their own.

Besides, they had magic. Shields, wind, and whatever the deer had been trying to lift the pig with. If they were going to face certain death, that was their choice, and if they were going to turn back, they had the magic to protect themselves.

Right?

Was it his imagination, or did the ground rumble beneath his feet?

Zhusha paused, shifting uneasily. There was little visibility from the ground--was the worm about to approach again? He thought of the peccary, trapped in the corrupted tunnel; of the hyena, who had chrysalized--whatever that meant; and of the bird-dragon, injured and falling. And Draconua, the chaos beast, roaring its murderous intentions at its own allies.

Failures. They didn't need help--they don't deserve it, said a nasty little voice in the back of his mind. Not that he could help much, anyway, but was he really going to leave them behind like this? Only the beasts and the deer who had led them out so foolishly had really done anything wrong. The others didn't deserve to be all caught up in this.

Shaking his head, furious at himself, Zhusha began to retrace his steps with redoubled speed. "CAREFUL," he cried as shadowy outlines began to appear through the blizzard, but--are they floating? Yes, all of them, even the huge beasts without wings. The crane stopped, and stared with an utterly blank expression. He did not know how it was possible for them to drift upward like this, but--he supposed they did not really need his warning now. And, he thought, I should join them in the air. The ground isn't safe. He flapped his wings (yes, he had wings and this was how to use them; how did they fly and not have wings?), watching the group with an odd mixture of bemusement and dread of the danger still present.

Reign felt relief when he heard they were going back. It was shameful for the cheetah king, almost blasphemy, but right now wasn't the time to hold onto his pride. His paws lifted from the snow. He looked forward. Let's get moving--

Aaand the ground rumbled and it tumbled beneath him, and then he was suddenly being lifted into the air. What.

The feline craned his head back to see the disoriented, floating masses, and Pride straining. The monster was howling, some uncontrollable beast of terror in the middle of their army. A landmine set off. His heart jumped up to his throat for a moment before he realized they were all safe and in the air. But that did little to help against the howling blizzard.

"Lets move!" he shouted, trying to ignore Draconua. It suddenly struck him that he had no way to move. With no ground beneath his paws, the cheetah was just peddling through frosty air. A growl of frustration slipped through his maw. Then something clicked in his head, relating back to when he used his Shield to block the bird's attack.

But nothing conjured, and he was left listlessly floating over black, corrupted snow.

strong language

... again

Twisted did not react so smoothly. First, her ears flattened when she heard the order to retreat, annoyed at all the wasted time but resigned to the fact she could do little to change it. The crooked-tailed siamese turned away, briefly looking at Madhukar before flicking back at their desired route. Caves, she could see nothing through this blizzard. Nothing but Draconua, raising her fangs to the sky in a woah wait hoLY SHIT-

She bolted away in pure instinct, which proved to be needless since a quick burst of foreign magic lifted her off the ground shakily. She watched it fall apart beneath her black paws. "Shit, shit!" she hissed. Her eyes darted around the crowd. Her ears flinched from a sonic boom. When she finally got her bearings again, she was seething. "Fuck you," she growled, likely too far away to be heard by the valkhound. "Fuck you and your stupid piss party where we all kiss your oily shit. 'Respect' my ass. If you wanna go throw a temper tantrum, you overgrown carcass, you can go stomp your feet and scream with daddy.

She turned away with a scowl. "Bite my head off, I don't care, at least I won't have to hear your incessant yowling in the tomb. I'm outta here."

Then, caring not for the laws of physics nor the innocence of those who had the pleasure to hear her, Twisted attempted to move somewhere through the air with the complexion of one who finally let off some steam.

The rumble, the rapidly-approaching slick of fungus beneath the ground--drawn first to their vibrations and then, inexorably, to Draconua's earthshattering spell--was noted by only two of them. Tahi-shei and Sora could move out of harm's way, and Zhusha already was. It was Draconua, then--and Nidhogg, in his struggle to cling to her--who were in the most danger.

And somewhere more distant, Nemo had flown into the storm: but his magic was that of open-air sound. Its vibration was skyward, one that shuddered through the cave but too diffuse for the worm to find or follow, and so it ignored it in favor of the shuddering earth. Esther could make their way to wherever they wished, meanwhile.*

The rest would be relatively safe from harm, even, given their levitation--but the shattered black earth now erupted further. The scything mandibles streaked upward, snapping shut for Draconua's abdomen--it would be a clash of titans, yet there was already blue blood streaking down the worm's flank, bruised carapace where the tissue had been partly crushed. Any normal beast would have retreated to lick its wounds but this one was not itself, not of its own mind, this one was controlled and now it came for them.

If Draconua failed to evade, she would find her abdomen caught in the closing scissor-grip of the mandibles, possibly opened or severed nearly in half, the weight dragging her down, though certainly it would be a battle and not merely an assassination given her enormous size. Nidhogg was also in harm's way, clinging to her as he was.

They were so close to escaping Ursa--but would they make it? Would they choose to aid Draconua in her fight--or would they leave her to her fate, and escape while they still could?

_____________

Esther may make their way to wherever they wish. Nemo must roll to avoid becoming lost in the blizzard.

Draconua must roll to avoid (or she may choose to take the hit, and attack or take any other action instead) to avoid having her abdomen partly severed open. Nidhogg must roll to avoid (or may choose to take the attack, and take another action instead) being caught and badly wounded by mandibles as collateral damage. Everyone else is safe, and will be lowered to the (jumbled) ground this turn to act as they see fit.

* by request, Esther's fate was rolled by a GM offsite.

The next GM post will be on the 20th. Please do not wait until the end of the 20th, as I (the GM) am not on your time zone!

@Tahi-shei (Sora) @Madhukar @Twisted @Marshmallow @Nemo @Reign @Pride (Nidhogg) @Draconua @Zhusha @Esther

In the next few moments, several things happened at once. First and obvious, even to his ears, was Draconua -- her great roar and the sound of the earth cracking and groaning in protest in her terrible, unquenchable fury. She was attacking them. And then, in the same breath, just as he was moving to avoid the worm's approach, he was caught up and off his feet. He gasped, startled and properly scared by the sensation -- Tahi-shei was totally blind, with only the giant beacon of WORM to guide him. He didn't even have the comfort of the ground beneath his hooves. I hate this cave, he thought dryly, and then he was dropped back onto the ground. Luckily, he hadn't began to flounder in terror, so four hooves hit the slick, blackened ground firmly.

Judging by the noises of carnage around him, it seemed the worm had attacked Draconua -- which told him exactly how close he was to ground zero. "RUN!" he roared, guiding his troops. "LEAVE HER, SHE MIGHT AS WELL BE SERVING THE HIVE!" It was a vile insult, he knew -- aimed directly to gouge at her heart as he moved away from the tantruming beast that was Draconua. Caves, he hated her. He wished he was brave enough to challenge Vargas on having brought her here.

"THEY'LL BOTH KILL US IF WE STAY!" he added, and desperately urged his troops forward -- he couldn't exactly risk moving without them. In the battering wind, desperate for any form of protection, his magic pushed out and sad little frills came to greet it. They were big enough to defend him, certainly, but he didn't imagine they'd hold up super well to the wind (or to Marshmallow, the poor dear, if she decided to cling to his throat).

Marshmallow had settled herself on Tahi's antlers, still mighty confused as to what was happening around her. Her little pinprick eyes were exhausted from all the looking around, and at this point she was just focused on keeping herself warm. It was disappointing that no food had come, especially when Tahi had proclaimed that there would be a 'vote'! Ah well, that was alright. It was hard to cling onto the antlers on all fours, so she adjusted herself so she was hanging upside down by only her back claws. It did mean that every movement of Tahi's head caused her to swing around a bit, but it was more comfortable this way.

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

violence

the more explicit stuff is in a lower opacity text, so be careful!

Rotten ground gave way, permafrost yowling as it was broken apart. The groaning of newly-formed plates was drowned by the blizzard and smothered by the chattering hyena-giggle rattling from Draconua's throat. Her body rose above it, and rather than let her enthusiasm be diluted by confusion, she reveled in it.

(Pride went distantly acknowledged, and distantly ignored; Tahi-shei's hurled insult and orders dissipated with her anarchic conscience.)

Palms and talons leeching Oil onto the blackening earth below, the valkhound stared at the earth down below, turning her bottom half toward the ceiling. Hussar wings spread wide, clawed fingers grasping at thin air without much purpose. Looking for anything to grind into a pulp, to eviscerate, to use to prove a point that she was not something to be ignored—

Something heavy careened into her weightless, euphoric atmosphere, and the Sleepless Chaos whirled on it without remorse; her head swung wide and upwards, neck craning at an unnatural angle to grapple for Nidhogg.

Heavy body curling upward, that was, perhaps, a mistake.

Keratinous points guttered through flesh and sinew, punching straight through vantablack flesh, through a corroded stomach lining full of hissing, spitting Oil. A sickening rip! murmured through the lightning-quick movement of intestines being separated from one another, upended into the open air and its biting, frigid, hypothermic ice. They flapped freely in the wind and against the worm's chitin and spines, flabs of meat and seemingly little more. Oily blood spattered from every bit of severed flesh, a shower of gore and viscera and half-digested essence.

A guttural shriek of rage, potent and every bit virulent echoed from her, cut off only by her starting to meet earth again—innards jarred yet looser and sending messages of WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! across the fried nervous system being ignored; her writhing to get a grip on the worm's flanks; her whirling away from the chaotic serpent on her back to plant her gaping maw so tantalizingly close to Orderly hide.

Her teeth would have barely grazed the beast's skin, if at all, before rotten lightning failed to come at her will, her demand. A bolt, black as a corpse's fingers—rotten and the picture of chaos—lanced through her entire being instead. Draconua curled in on herself, thrashing to get some grip while at the accursed worm's mercy.

Claws scrabbled. A grip on flesh: attained. For a moment there was blessed stability in the floating slow-motion free-fall--earth shattered. Mandibles, roaring up, and Nidhogg shrieked and flailed, twisting his torso to try and avoid being crushed into Draconua's flank--from being partially severed, as she was about to be.

He felt the brush of bitter cold wind as the jaws snapped shut just beneath him, his agile coiled hind end flipping up and out of the way with time to spare. For a moment it was as though he would ride Draconua down--then the rip, the scent of blood, and Nidhogg leapt clear.

The levitation spell faded, and he plowed down into corrupted snow and charred, ridged earth--fissures that hadn't been there, shouldn't be there, and he was scrambling free with a hiss.

Behind him, his dark leader and mother-figure was being torn into, and Nidhogg turned just in time to see the end of it. It was disgusting--but already his prey drive, his half-feral dominance, was wondering if he could finish her off. Kill her. Take her place.

'Leave her,' Tahi-shei was shouting, and Pride mentally scoffed. Okay, so this enemy was huge--monstrous, even, and deadly. But it was only one enemy. Silvered eyes cast over it briefly, searching for a weakness, an opening. There, he thought, spying the open wound.

Magic flared out, popped into being, a coiling darkness erupting within the wound. Would it work-? He didn't know, but he put all his focus into it, all his rapidly-dwindling power. He wanted to draw it in, to suck the creature's flesh and carapace into utter nothing, to obliterate it from being. It was too late to purge it, he guessed that much; and who knew if it were sentient, obeying "Mother" by choice-? No; he'd destroy it if he could.

One way or another, it had made itself their enemy.

To Tahi-shei, he said nothing, but he added cowardice to his growing mental list of the other deer's failings. A failing to scout ahead. A failing to mention that he was utterly blind. A failing to risk himself for others--no, he'd positioned himself in safety at the cost of other lives. A failing to negotiate with Draconua in any way--and now a failing to fight. He was fleeing, and leaving others to die, be they 'chaos' or not.

It was a minor consideration, but it was there, and Pride knew he would not be following the blind deer into combat--or anything--ever again.

With luck, however, it would not be an issue; with luck, the worm at least would die right here and now.

Zhusha watched with a sense of frozen, fascinated horror as the worm burst from the snow once more and latched its mandibles around Draconua. There was so much blood, yet even that was unnatural--iridescent black instead of bright red. There's no way she'll survive, he thought, wide eyes fixated on the gruesome scene. And yet--some part of him felt a vicious satisfaction, despite the nausea boiling in his gut. Some part of him thought it deserves it, look at it, it can't even defend itself--

Zhusha shook his head, disgusted with himself. What am I thinking? Being weak was no reason for anyone to be left to the nonexistent mercy of the ice worm. The bird-dragon, he reminded himself, had suffered the same fate, and she had been nothing but kind. Surely she hadn't deserved it.

And, as it turned out, the beast was able to defend itself. One moment the worm was there, and the next moment it simply wasn't. It was as if it had been utterly obliterated from existence by some unimaginable power. Loathe as he was to run from anything, Zhusha knew that the brown deer was right. They were insects before the might of the worm and the chaos beast, who could crush and kill them without a second thought. Those mandibles had torn through the largest of them here, and a spell had eliminated the worm in an instant.

He was nothing. They were all nothing.

And so he fled, desperately fighting against the battering winds to follow Tahi-shei away from the scene.