RP:Ode to a Shadow Girl

Part of the The White Hunt Arc

Summary:

Frostmaw Tavern

Orikahn bounces lightly from one toe to another, enjoying his renewed mobility. For some time now, he's been hunting exclusively in armor, and it feels (in a very literal sense) as though a great weight has been lifted from his shoulders. With his bow, quiver, and sculls ready, the massive sabercat adjusts his cloak and makes his final preparations to head out into the biting cold. Without the usual protection of his visor, the cat has opted instead to tie a white woolen scarf over his muzzle, both to guard his face from the bitter northern cold and to help camouflage his dark face.

Aira was upstairs in her room finishing her own preparations for her journey out west. She was in her usual Frostmaw attire, fur-lined leggings, a long sleeve shirt covered by a fur-lined vest, and of course her heavy boots. Her cloak was clasped about her throat but she left the hood down for now. Platinum locks were swept up in a high ponytail, sleek and smooth, causing the few rings in her tapered ears to glint in any catching light. Her quiver of arrows was secured on her back, bow slung across her body, as well as a dagger hidden down her boot. Aira moved from her room, snapping the door shut and bounding down the stairs with purpose, her footfalls echoing loudly around the semi-empty tavern. She spotted her counterpart, sans his armor and moved towards his side. “Looking different, Kitty,” she offered with a small grin.

Orikahn fastens his own flint-and-horn dagger at the hip opposite his sculls and looks up in time to see Aira approaching. "Ghhm." A grunt of acknowledgement: it's the best she's getting for now. Orikahn tugs on his sleeves and he rolls his neck, trying to get the cloak to sit right without his pauldrons to support it. No matter, the feline reminds himself, because it's all going to settle into place on the trail. He takes a deep, grounding breath through his nose and glances down over himself, a last double-check, then down over the elf, inspecting her. "Your hunt, your lead Aira. I'm just along for the thrill," and to keep you from getting dismembered by trolls, he silently adds. Kahn cracks his knuckles and looks expectantly to the door.

Aira looked up at Orikahn and nodded as he mentioned it being her hunt, thus her lead. She nodded curtly before turning to face the bar once more and lifting a hand in a departing wave to Drargon. They didn’t talk much, but that had a quiet acquaintance that seemed to work well for the two of them, plus the business transactions. Aira crossed the tavern floor and yanked open the heavy door, a cold gust of wind assaulting the bare flesh of her face. She turned to Kahn before exiting, a glint in those metallic eyes, “For the thrill, huh? Well, I be sure to cause some trouble. Keep it exciting for you.” And then the runaway was out the door and into the snow.

Orikahn reaches out to grab the door, holding it open behind the elf as she slips out, and he slips out after her, sure to narrow his eyes in suspicious disapproval at the mention of causing trouble. The wilds are trouble enough, aren't they? The cat snorts a foggy snort through his scarf and pulls the door tightly shut behind himself, leaving behind the tavern and his own feeble sense of civilized life.

Western Frostmaw Gates

Aira walked in silence, arms crossed over her chest as the pair walked, smale plumes of smoke forming in front of her face with each breath she took. The snow crunched under her boots but besides that she made no noise. She continued on their trajectory towards the west, only halting upon reaching the gate. Aira paused for a moment, almond-shaped, copper eyes scanning the expanse of the area. All was still for the moment, but she swore she could still hear the pounding of hundred of hooves against the snow during the stampede. “I never thank you for getting us out of that,” she finally said after a time of quiet reflection. “Thanks.”

Orikahn looks over the trampled, snowpacked field as he emerges from the gates. Aira's words bring him, too, straight back to the tense moments of the stampede, and he grits his teeth. It's extraordinary they managed to survive. "Hmm. You would have been fine in the trees. I'm the only reason you would have gotten trampled to begin with." The cat reaches inside his hood to scratch at his ears. "That would make me look pretty foolish, wouldn't it, getting my only hunter smashed before her first full moon, hmm?" Both the cat's furry brows raise. "What a lot of atoning *that* would have been."

Aira quirked her brow as she turned to face the feline, drawing her hands to her mouth to blow some warmth onto them. “Well, I wasn’t going to just -leave you- down there,” she said with a confused expression, as if he would have thought she would have stayed within the trees after he fell. “Atoning?” it was a word unfamiliar to the high elf who was still trying to grasp the common language. “What that?”

Orikahn scans the distant line of the horizon, the jagged mountains, the dark and distant treelines. Compulsively, he fingers his bowstring. "Atoning?" The cat's brow furrows. "It's when you sin and you must do something to appease your god and correct your soul, to keep the favor of mighty spirits. Gets rid of the bad juju." The hunter gestures vaguely with his broad, pawlike hands, trying to illustrate such abstract ideas as condemnation and reconciliation with one's deity. "You know?"

Aira continued to study Kahn as he did his best to explain what atonement was. Sin, gods, deities, these were all foreign concepts to the high elf who was raised without spirituality or religion. She did understand the otherworldly though, her gift of connecting with spirits was proof of that, but she had no deity of her own with whom she would have to atone anything to. The concept of juju, was something she could connect to, though. So she merely shrugged her shoulders and began to walk deeper into the west then, leaving the gates of Frostmaw behind her. “It sound complicated to have a deity. What does Savage Queen give you in return for your devotion?” Aira did not mean her words as an insult to him -or- his Queen, but rather it was one of curiosity.

Orikahn stays close behind Aira, walking only a couple paces after her, watching over her right shoulder. His grip flexes on the handle of his bow. "Complicated?" Orikahn doesn't fancy himself a very complicated creature, and Aira's assessment plainly catches him off guard. "Just a matter of course," Kahn mutters matter-of-factly. "There's always great spirits, and they see us and the things we do." Orikahn had never really considered explaining these to someone and had just imagined all this spirit and deity stuff to be self-evident. "She gives me good fortune and favor in the hunt, and she delivers me from great peril. It was my Savage Queen who took the frostmare and tamed it for us to ride," the cat points out, gesturing at Aira then toward the north, indicating the stand of trees where the stampede had originally swept them up. "And for that, I am loyal and offer sacrifice. And," he tilts his head side to side in self evaluation, "if I sin, I atone. Not very complicated, if you ask me. Hmm."

Aira turned her back to the west as she faced Orikahn, the better to observe him in his explanation. She assumed this type of conversation was along the lines of politics which were spoken in her home very often, a fine line could be crossed at any moment. But Aira was never one to hold her tongue so she continued, “You say your Queen controlled the frostmare? I saw skilled hunter who knows beasties do it.” She merely shrugged then, pulling her hood up to cover her hair from the falling snow. “If you believe, I believe -you-, but it is difficult for me. I never learn this when I little, I just thought we are us, we do our own things. Reap our own gifts, suffer our own consequences.” The runaway sighed heavily causing a larger breath of smoke to escape her lips again.

Orikahn keeps pace. "Spirits aren't always what they seem," he grumbles. Aira, being spiritually sensitive as she is, might get the curious sensation that one of the sculls on Orikahn's belt has turned to stare at her, but it just as easily be a coincidence that the dry, empty sockets are pointed her way. "Spend enough time in the hunt," the great feline growls with confidence, "and you'll start to understand." Apparently satisfied (and perhaps a little self-righteous), the hunter leaves it at that an cranes his neck, maintaining his vigilant watch. He is merely ready for trouble; he's expecting it. Out in troubled west, after all, it's only a matter of time.

Staring Spirits

Aira merely shrugged then, before turning her back to Orikahn once more. She hadn't been trying to argue or offend, she was simply a sheltered girl who was ignorant to certain concepts. The skull went unnoticed by Aira who did her best not to look upon them, not since the once she smashed when the feline was in his trance. The pair fell into that comfortable silence, only their feet crunching the snow made any noise. Aira did not bother to keep her bow at her side and kept it safely secured across her body; what she was looking for today could not be taken down by an arrow. Her body did tense as they neared their intended destination. The runaway couldn't deny that the last time she was here she had been manic and perhaps a bit unhinged. She was determined this time and when she found herself in the center of the street she merely lowered her hood, lifting her copper gaze to the abandoned buildings and waited.

Orikahn is quiet and alert for most of their walk. As they pressed deeper and deeper, the hunter is impressed at how quiet the woods and the wilds have become. Some short weeks ago, this wilderness would have been teeming with violent wildlife ready to assault them on sight. What had changed? Not about to voice his concerns aloud, Orikahn follows the elf deeper and deeper until, before he'd even realized how far they'd come, he and Aira are standing deep in the heart of the ruins, waiting together in the middle of a desolate street. He swallows. Their last trip to the ruins was still fresh in his mind. Unlike Aira, Orikahn keeps his bow in his grasp; there are things here that arrows will yet slay, and Kahn isn't about to waste a second drawing that could have been spent shooting.

Aira faced Kahn for a moment, noting his bow at the ready. Well that would be one less thing she had to worry about then. Slowly she moved to the opposite side of the street, reaching her hand out to touch the ruined buildings as she walked past. This had been a beautiful place once, but time and weather and evil had destroyed that. Metallic eyes continued to dart about the street and the runaway silently called out to the little shadow girl, letting her know that she was back just as she said she would. "I want to help you.." Aira whispered softly, but with the emptiness of the street it was bound to carry. It remained silent for several moments until it was suddenly broken by a tinkling, like some instrument playing. She froze on the spot, turning toward the feline. She searched his jade eyes with her copper ones, silently asking if he had heard that. As if in answer, the tinkling sounded again.

Orikahn grits his teeth. He wasn't particularly welcome to the idea of calling out to spirits here, and he recalls what had happened to Leone when she had attempted the same. Still, this was Aira's endeavor and he had, after come along for curiosity's sake. He could hardly see what she's up to if he makes a point of interrupting her, now can he? Orikahn remains on the opposite side of the street, keeping a lookout and remaining mindful of their angles and sight lines. For the ten-thousandth time, the cat wishes where was a way to keep his ears warm without muffling them, but the north is harsh, he concedes for the ten-thousandth time, and he must cope within his imperfect means. But what was that? An out-of-place tinkling catches the feline's ears, and his eyes snap to Aira just in time for the two to look at one another and gain mutual confirmation. The cat bends at the knees, hunkering low and moving closer, walking with eerie silence and gliding toward her like a white shadow. As soon as he is close enough to whisper, he does. "Your shadow girl, Aira?"

The locked eyes was confirmation to Aira that he had indeed heard it, too. She watched as Kahn slinked towards her in his crouched position. When he asked if it was her shadow girl she merely inclined her chin in a slight nod before responding in a hushed tone, "I hope so. I guess we find out." And before the feline could potentially stop her she was off down the road, her adept hearing drawing her to the source of the noise. A final note is played out as she approached the building she had been in previously, the door closed but hanging slightly off its hinges from her kick. With a great steadying breath she shouldered her way into the home, crossing the threshold and peering about. Across the room, disappearing around the corner was a shadow figure. Without waiting to see if Kahn followed her she pursued the shadow and disappeared around the corner as well.

Orikahn agrees with Aira, and as she turns he begins to tell her "don't forget-" but the elf is already moving and out of earshot, for whispers at least. Impatient kit, the cat curses within the privacy of his mind and stalks after her, careful to move as silently as before. Unwanted attention is the very last thing that either of them need. Orikahn is grateful when Aira takes a moment for a breath, for it gives him a moment to catch up. He considers saying something, but the cat has been frustrated often enough by the elf's inability to listen that he settles on silence instead. If the elf is going to run amok inside a decrepit ruin, then he can keep watch at the door. The last thing they need is a stray ice devil showing up and cutting off their escape. With fire in his eyes and an arrow at the ready, Kahn sets a faithful post, his self-appointed guard duty just beyond the abandoned threshold.

Aira rounded the corner somewhat nervously and halted when she found a room wholly undaunting. A crumbling hearth against one corner, a few upturned chairs, but it was the corner that drew Aira's attention immediately. A piano completely covered in dust stood unused and surprisingly undamaged and the runaway crossed to it, noting little divots of dust carved out on some of the higher keys, clearly the source of tinkling noise. Aira cast her eyes about, metallic pools searching for her little friend; she was there if even she couldn't see her. As if taking a cue, the elf slid into the seat before the piano, bending down to blow dust off of the keys. The billowing particles draw a cough from Aira who quickly waved them away with her hand. Gently, she placed her own hand on the keys, playing a scale. She looked up, still no shadow girl. Her other hand moved to the lower keys and played a harmony. Another pause to look about. Still nothing. With a cautious glance to the wall where she knew Kahn must be perched on the other side, Aira moved her attention to the piano once again, shifting in her seat nervously. It was then that her slender fingers began to move flawlessly across the Ivory keys, playing a soft lullaby that -she- often played when times were hard for her at home. The shadow girl had drawn Aira with the piano and now Aira was hoping to do the same with her.

Orikahn grits his teeth again, grinding them quietly as he focuses on keeping his cool. It helped that he could find no imminent danger in sight, even as he glances from house to empty house. The cat knows his nerves must be frayed, because he keeps imagining faces in the empty windows, staring from out of the corner of his eye. Naturally, they vanish the moment he can glance their way; Kahn knows the way ones eyes can play tricks. True, the juju was bad here, but at least--savage spirits, what was that racket!? Orikahn could have jumped out of his skin, and only by the discipline of many years hunting does he refrain from fleeing in a swift, acrobatic scramble. The fur all down his tail stands straight on end, puffing the swaying appendage to double or triple its ordinary volume. That noise! Orikahn can't remember ever having heard such a hideous din: truly, nothing wholesome or natural. Whatever's happening to Aira must be truly terrible, perhaps too terrible to witness, but the feline steels his nerves and ducks through the open door, padding across the floorboards with his bow at full draw. Approaching the corner, he slows to the lightest crawl and, barely daring to breathe, peeks around the corner to find... Aira sitting in front of a... horrible noise machine? "Aira!" Kahn whispers sharply through his teeth. Is she trying to draw the whole wrath of the ruin down upon them?

Aira flickered her eyes up from the keys to look up at Kahn, who clearly rattled by the noise. She noted the disgruntled look on his face, the drawn bow in his hands. It might be surprising that he would notice a small smile on the elf's lips. It had been a long time she had played and it was perhaps the only thing she loved from her home. "It just music Kahn," she spoke quietly, but loud enough so he would be able to hear her over the notes. "She play to get me her so I play to g--" Aira clamped her mouth shut, there just behind the feline, peeking up at his large form was her shadow girl. Slowly, copper eyes lowered back to the piano as her hands continued to dance across the keys. When spoke it was calm and quiet so as not to alarm Kahn. "No panic, Kitty, but shadow girl right next to you. Piano work!" The shadow girl would continue to look up at Kahn tentatively before moving deeper in the room towards the elf.

Orikahn narrows his eyes in keen disapproval. Whatever Aira chooses to call it, Orikahn is obviously less than impressed with her playing or, perhaps more aptly, the timing of her performance. "What do you mean 'it's just music'?" His tone is incredulous. "I'm walking around like the ground is made of hornet nests, and you're here... here..." Kahn's words trail off with his gaze as the shadow girl floats past him, manifest and clearly visible to the ungifted eye. There is a moment in which the cat forgets himself then, with care, he relaxes his bowstring. Aira had come this far to get the ghost's attention, and Orikahn wasn't about to spoil her "kill" at the very end of the hunt. True, the cat was more in the habit of fleeing from ghosts, and it was an odd sensation indeed to willingly remain in the shadowy specter's company. Whatever happened next, Kahn acknowledges he's about to learn something, either from Aira's success or her failure.

Aira slowed her playing as the shadow girl approached, her celestial form sliding up on the bench besides the elf. A curious glance is afforded to Kahn before she dipped her chin to look at the shadow girl. It was an odd sensation, conversing with ghosts. The little girl's voice was like a tickle in her mind, hushed quieter from the spirit's nervousness. After a few moments of silence Aira grinned looked up at the feline again for a moment. "That Kahn, he just big Kitty. He help me back to see you." Another resounding silence as Aira listened to the foggy voice. She was glad the feline believed her because she must clearly look like she had lost her mind now. Aira's smile suddenly faded, turning into a scowl. When she spoke again it was directed at the hunter. "Was there a beastie that destroy something important to spirits? Something that make them mad?"

Orikahn gingerly backs up a pace, just enough to see around the corner behind himself. The ghost is, after all, Aira's concern, and Kahn would be remiss to neglect his guardian role. Grateful for the absence of wind and snowfall, Kahn draws back his hood so he can listen properly, ears standing upright in the frigid air. "Hmm?" A beasty? "Yes there was, and we slew it," he's quick to add, "for busting up the ruins, a shrine in particular." The cat's tone is hushed in a low whisper, just loud enough to carry across the empty room and land in her elven ears. "But there's something else. The beast's been dead for ages."

Aira nodded her head in understanding to Kahn before looking down to the girl once again. The silence was long this time, the whispers coming in and out of Aira's mind, fading occasionally; she was using all her energy to communicate and the runaway idly played with a loose strand of hair as she listened patiently. "She just keep saying same thing over and over. Bad spirits keep her here and she want to go." Aira frowned and let out a frustrated sigh. "Do we know anything about shrine that was destroyed?" The elf was grasping for any information that might link the shadow girl to the goings on in the west.

Orikahn perks. He knows that evening is wearing on, as as the chill of night deepens, he knows to expect the old buildings will creak and pop. Still, he can't help but wonder and in his wondering worry about what might be lurking in the frozen night beyond. Thin white streams of breath dance before the frost-covered fabric of his facial scarf, and his eyes dart to and fro, jumping from window to door, trying to see anything out in the street beyond. "Hildegarde seemed to know of it, as did the high priestess, but I didn't press for details. They seemed to know what was going on," his bow flexes as the string bends back again, "and they gave me my duties. I found the shrine broken, and that was the end of it, for me anyway." Outside, the sound of wind rises, and the house shudders, giving a tired groan around them as loose snow sifts down through the floorboards above, sparkling and glittering around them in the faint, ambient light. Out in the ruins beyond, the sharp splintering of brittle ice can be heard.

Aira was not as jumpy as Kahn, but certain loud pops and groans caused her to shift her attention from the shadow girl to the source of the noise. She did not want to alarm the feline but she was sure he could begin to sense the feeling of forboding. It wasn't until all the little hairs on her arm stood on end that Aira was on her feet. Her copper eyes settling upon the piano keys as an unknown source brought forth music once again. She inclined her chin towards the hunter, mouth open as if she was about to speak but suddenly she felt something grab her ponytail and pull, yanking her hair hard. She lost her balance thanks to the piano bench and fell into the wall with a sickening thud. She managed to yell for Kahn to leave; she had drawn the spirits here and this was -her- hunt as he had said, she didn't want him to get caught in this mess. Bleary eyes look up dizzily and Aira began to notice it was getting dark, and fast, and the temperature seemed to drop even lower rapidly.

Orikahn is beginning to wish that he hadn't pulled his hood back, but at the same time is unwilling to relax his bowstring. The feline's sense of impending danger is answered with a renewed ruckus from the piano, and the feline is just about to curse the elf when he spots her fingers and realizes that she's not to blame (for once). He draws up his bow and snaps off a shot at the piano. The arrow splinters through the wood and snaps the wires inside with discordant pings. No help. Aira's being stolen into the clutches of an angry spirit, and Kahn feels robbed of a lesson; he didn't have to risk his hide to guess that this was how things would end. Stashing his bow, Kahn rears up, tearing his scarf away, filling his lungs with frozen air and wrinkling his maw into a savage snarl. He roars. If Aira has never heard a roar up close before (and if she is still conscious) she will realize that it is very different from an ordinary shout. The very air rips around her with the force of the sound. It pounds in her ears. It ripples through her chest and abdomen. Copious fog rolls out from between his gleaming fangs in billowing, roiling clouds. It is an act of mighty spirit, and by the livid, feral gleam about him, he isn't about to back down. Again, the air shattering roar sounds as he steps forward, crushing the air from his own lungs in a deep lunge. Noise may have drawn the evil and now, Kahn concludes, noise will banish it!

Aira had indeed remained conscious despite a trickle of blood that was running down the side of her face. She was disoriented and she silently cursed herself for getting them in this again. She had seen Kahn release an arrow into the piano before her hair had been yanked and she heard the splintering echo somewhere in her mind. Through her dizziness she was conscious of Kahn moving forward and then came his roar, something she had never heard before. It was a sound that rattled her bones, shook her eardrums, rattled her mind. Hands moved up to clasp over ears to shield herself from the roar. It seemed to work because whatever was gripping Aira's hair suddenly began to relinquish its hold, but not before another voice entered her mind, a sickening screech that made the runaway's sun-kissed skin pale and send a visible shudder through her body. "Stop meddling, you will not win, and you will die trying." And just like that all was calm again, the figure gone, the darkness lightening, the temperature even rising slightly. Slowly, Aira stood on shaky legs, knocking dust and debris from her clothes before raising her hand to the bleeding wound on the side of her head. "I guess they no like that song I played."

Orikahn doesn't show his relief when the spirits subside. He merely pulls up his hood, glancing hurriedly around himself, double checking the room for visible signs of danger before he moves to Aira's side. Eagerly, he inspects her form, never touching her, but scanning her over, certainly, for telltale signs of injury. Does he smell blood? His lips part to better facilitate his olfactory processes. Hmm. "Are you good? I've seen enough." That roar is sure to have attracted more unwanted attention. Orikahn doesn't seem at all keen on sticking around. “I fine.” Aira said matter-of-factly, raising her hand to the side of her head and pulling away only to find some blood there, a nice lump forming underneath. She reached into her boot and extracted her dagger, taking the hem of her cloak and cutting a piece of fabric away. She placed it to her wound, attempting to stem the flow of blood. Aira tentatively took her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing anxiously before lifting her copper eyes to his jade ones. “Not yet,” she answered honestly. There was one last place she wanted to visit. “You can go, I’ll try and catch up.” The runaway stepped over the debris moving past Orikahn, back around the corner and out of the building. She paused a moment in the middle street, looking in each direction, before moving deeper into the ruins than she had ever been. There had to be a graveyard somewhere…

Orikahn blinks in astonishment. Doesn't she have ANY sense of self-preservation? "Don't be outrageous!" The cat snaps at her in an agitated hiss. "This place is about to be teeming, and all you can seem to-" But why does he bother? The injured elf is already blundering into the street. The feline stalks after her, but across the starlit landscape, he can already see the shifting shadows moving, disturbed from their eternal rest. "I can't roar them all away!" He hisses after her, crouched and following nonetheless.

Aira inclined her head back towards Orikahn, a small scowl on her face. “You don’t need to come, Kahn,” she responded to his hissed whispers. “You say this was my hunt, my lead. I need to do one more thing.” The elf turned on her booted heel and began to travel down the street with purpose whether Kahn joined her or not. She saw the shifting shadows, the blurred faces. She could feel their presences stirring but she was being led to do one more thing. She continued to move down the street until she found what she was looking for.

Frozen Graveyard

Orikahn tries to be swift, but he is more intent on caution than Aira and always seems to find himself struggling to keep up. Though it would delight him dearly to teach her a lesson or two about stealth, she didn't seem to have learned anything from that lump she took on the noggin. "Don't need to come," he grumbles under his breath. Kahn doesn't *need* much of anything. Patience, the hunter tells himself. Patience. As they finally draw upon the graveyard, Orikahn chooses to pause beyond its outside edge, hiding behind a chunk of collapsed debris, likely one knocked loose from one of the fallen towers nearby. Here, from ample cover, the cat feels a little more secure. The graveyard is looking somewhat more disheveled than usual. Orikahn doesn't recall nearly so many open graves...

Aira halted right before entering the graveyard glancing about at the dead foliage and the runaway assumed that, just like the ruins behind her, this place was one beautiful, too. She reached down and scooped up some decaying flowers and as she moved deeper into the graveyard her scowl deepened when she saw the disarray in the sacred space. The headstones were almost all crumbling and unreadable and she had to tread carefully so as not to trip. She had to admit that the ripped apart coffins were unsettling and an unconscious shudder ran through her body, but she had come here for a reason. She was not sure what she was looking for but she knew she would know when she stumbled upon it. She stepped over the crumbled stone, carefully avoiding the coffins. It took a few moments but she spotted it, just in the corner of the old graveyard. She moved to the small stone and kneeled down on the ground before it. Just like the others the name was unreadable, but Aira knew it belonged to her shadow girl. She placed the dead and decaying flowers on top of the stone and extended her hands over them. She began to chant softly as a gentle glow emanated from her palms; when she pulled back the flowers were no longer dead, but blossoming, eerily beautiful in the disheveled cemetery. She observed the gravestone for a few more silent moments before standing again, turning to see Orikahn perched at the entrance. Quietly and carefully she made her way out, observing the empty caskets. When she reached the feline she lowered her voice to a mere whisper, “Do you think these are undead creatures now?” she said, inclining her head towards the open coffins.

Orikahn watches the curious display. He had seen others honoring their dead with flowers, but Aira had never known anyone buried here, and those aren't very nice flowers, all withered and shriveled like that. Hmm? He perks up at the sight of the glow. Ah, alright, the flowers aren't awful, he internally concedes, snorting a white puff into the frigid air as he resumes his watch. This is how Aira finds Orikahn when she walks back over toward him. The feline doesn't look at her when she speaks. "I'm certain of it." The cat's words are low and ominous, and if Aira follows his gaze, she will see glowing red eyes shifting through the scenery around them moving between the headstones and through the broken rubble. An elf's keen eyes should have no trouble distinguishing their dry, ice-weathered and leathery faces, their sunken cheeks, their withered lips and eyelids, the way their shriveled gums make their yellowing teeth look too large for their mouths. Ragged clothes hang loosely about their broken bodies and sway with every jagged, disjointed step the wights take. All in all, there must be at least eight of them, possibly more, and on every side.

Aira studied Orikahn’s gaze as he spoke of believing that that was exactly what happened. She turned then and visibly took a step backwards at the shock of what she saw. The elf had never seen an undead before but this was unmistakably what was before them. Slowly, Aira pulled the bow from around her body and clutched it in her hand. “Maybe we should go now, Kitty…” She offered as she reached back and grasped at an arrow in the quiver on her back. She saw those sunken cheeks, the crimson slits that seemed to follow their every move. Once again, an involuntary shudder shook her body.

Orikahn looks for their best exit. He nods to the east. "There's a crawlspace we can duck through, over that way. It's narrow, and they'll bottleneck." The bow creaks as the string angles back to a full draw, a flint-tipped arrow knocked and ready. "Then we'll be safe on the other side of the rubble before they know it." As the wights circle, they seem to be growing braver, inching closer in a gradually tightening ring as they shift from headstone to headstone. "You first, I'll cover you from behind." He points his bow again to the east. "No time for subtlety. Go. Go!" With a glance over his shoulder, he checks the foul corpses creeping up behind him. Kahn has no doubt he can outrun one of these abominations, but he doesn't want to imagine what might happen if they find themselves cornered.

Aira immediately frowned at the idea, she did not like the thought of going first and leaving Kahn behind. It wasn’t lack of confidence in the headhunter of course, but rather, the splitting up with animated corpses after them that was her concern. But just as Aira had trusted him when he pulled her on the back of the wild frostmare during the stampede, she would trust him now. She did pause for the briefest of moments when he initially told her to go, but soon her legs are moving off towards the east where he instructed her to go, bow and arrow still at her side.

Orikahn takes a steadying breath and watches as Aira sprints away, counting her paces and listening to the crunch of the frozen ground beneath her steps. Around the two of them, the shuffling circle of undead springs to life and motion. The wights ahead of her look alert and they hiss through their clenched jaws. They lunge, reaching for Aira with clawlike nails. An arrow sings past Aira's left, and there is a sickening crunch as it breaks through the wight's toothy grimace like an old windowpane and sticks out through the back of its neck with enough force to stagger the ugly cuss and knock it reeling. A second arrow sails by Aira's right, slicing through the crisp air and sticking into another wight's hip with a hollow "thock". The malformed corpse stumbles into an open grave and lands with a crunch. If Aira dares to look back, she will see Orikahn has leaped atop a tall headstone, one still intact, to escape the grasping claws of the undead, and he rains a deadly hail of razor-sharp arrows down upon the growing, jostling crowd beneath him.

Aira inhaled deeply as the two corpses lunged at her form, but almost immediately an arrow sailed into the animated body on her left soon followed by the one on the right and she knew, of course, that it was Kahn. She continued to run for several more paces until she chanced a look back which caused her stop short, skidding to a halt and sending snow and ice flying. The feline was standing atop an intact headstone as the undead bodies encircled the area and he rained his arrows down upon them. Aira felt conflicted and it showed in her movements as she was jostling on her feet. On one hand, Kahn had told her to run, on the other she couldn’t just leave him there to fend for himself. She settled on staying where she was, knocking an arrow into place and sighting the creatures in case she needed to intercept.

Orikahn snarls, baring his fangs. One of the wights, buoyed up by the crowd, is making his way up the tombstone; Kahn rewards its ambition with a swift, brutal kick to the face, blasting dust out of the undead's ears and mouth as its cranium collapses in a grotesquely depressed fracture. While this is going on, another is creeping up and ready to swipe its black, filth-ridden nails across Kahn's leg when, with a whistle and a thud, Aira's arrow halts it mid swipe. The feline spots the wight, sees the arrow, then snaps his gaze over to Aira. His look is incredulous. Too engaged to complain or argue, the cat continues his defensive assault from his lonely post. Now, out beyond in the farther corners of the graveyard, fresh corpses are shambling forward to join the fray.

Aira saw that incredulous look that Kahn had thrown her when her arrow made contact, but she didn’t really care, he should have -known- that she wouldn’t leave him. Her resolve solidified even more when past the feline she could see an expanse of more undead making their way into the cemetery to join their companions. Another arrow is knocked and sent flying towards the group that the hunter was fighting off. “Kahn, behind you!” Aira yelled, fixing another arrow to shoot should another take a swipe at the feline when he looked over his shoulder. “There too many we have to go!”

Orikahn hears Aira's warning, and he glances back, spotting the shambling horde. Well fie. Kahn's no statistician, but he can pretty well guess his odds if the crowd around him gets much thicker. The elf's arrows might save him from another close swipe, but it's only a matter of time before one of the horrible creatures sinks its claws into him; he'd rather not imagine what their foul touch might do to living flesh. She says we have to go, Kahn thinks to himself, now that he's that he's stuck in the middle of a game of "king of the tombstone", life or death stakes. Crouching low, he winds up like a spring, getting ready to show off his racial capacity for unusually grand leaps. There's the jump! He uncoils like a viper striking, muscles rippling through his trunk and clean through his legs in a leap so mighty... that it kicks the monument over. As the weighty stone falls ponderously to the side and crushes a swath of corpses, Orikahn is left looking startled and unsure as his failed leap sends him tumbling into the middle of the swarm.

Aira lets loose an impressive string of expletives as she watched the tomb crumble and Orikahn tumble into the middle of the swarm. She was moving before she was conscious of it, sprinting back into the mess of corpses, drawing her dagger from her boot as she neared. She began to slash aimlessly, just looking for the dead, leathery flesh of the monstrosities. “Kahn?!” Aira called out as she tried to push her way into the thicket, gasping as one of those frozen hands grabbed her shoulder. Fueled by the fire of her intensity she flailed broke free but stumbled, soon finding herself next to the feline. Copper eyes flick over to Orikahn, searching his jade eyes for an answer of how they could get out of this mess.

Orikahn yowls as he kicks to right himself, spinning onto his back and thrashing at the many limbs descending upon him. Every swipe and kick is answered with the snapping of dusty bones, but Kahn is only one cat. Yowls turn to roars of angry retribution as the foul, gritty nails slash through the furs of his garments and sting the flesh beneath, biting into him with a chill that touches more than mere flesh. His fingers close around the nearest wight's leg, and he pulls the mummified corpse easily off balance and making an opening for himself in the pressing crowd. When Aira finds him, he is just now standing, a full head above the crowd. Above his head, the herculean cat is raising a broken piece of granite roughly the size and shape of a three-tier cake. He brings it down on an adjacent wight and it vanishes like a collapsable box, crushed instantly into itself. Not about to stop there, Kahn steps forward into the gap it left and crushes the next likewise. "Aira!?" He's to enraged to be shocked by anything anymore. His clothing is in tatters, exposing lines of bright red blood and white frost.

Aira began to slash out with her dagger as the white corpses bore down on her, and she managed to hold her own for some time but there were too many of them. She felt them begin to claw at her body, easily ripping through her clothes and drawing blood from her face and throat, a scream suddenly leaving her lips. She groaned and thrashed about, trying to break the onslaught of bodies so that she may stand up, but she was not making any headway. Suddenly, there was a familiar tickle in her mind, like an itch that one can’t scratch. It was a inaudible at first and Aira shook her head to try and focus on what was being said. “Kahn!” she suddenly yelled out. “Fire, do you have something to make fire?”

Orikahn smashes another, and another, and he adds kicks to his assault, battering his way out of the ever-tightening crowd. "Fire?" The cat shouts back reflexively. It takes a moment to register in the fog of combat. His flint and steel was tuck away out of reach. For a moment, he steps back internally and observes his frantic limbs trying to destroy, escape, survive. "Not handy!" He shouts back. The eastern edge of the crowd is almost within reach. There's Aira, too, an arm's length away. As he's contemplating, he feels a wrenching pain at his side, and he roars again, this time in agony. A wight has gotten hold of him by the middle and is sinking its teeth into his side. "GrraaaaAAAHH!" In a frenzied fury, the feline hurls the small boulder forward like a cannonball, smashing an alley ahead of himself and narrowly missing the elf; she will feel the wind of it passing as the massive rock sails by, crushing one of the wights beside her. By now, a second corpse has latched its teeth into the sabercat, but he is barreling forward, dragging them behind himself as they refuse to let go. Should Aira allow it, he scoops her up as he passes and clutches her (comparatively tiny) body to his chest, using his elbows to keep the narrow path clear as he rushes out and back into the open.

Aira felt the wind of Kahn’s flying boulder, the breeze causing a few errant locks of hair to flutter across her face. She had flinched upon hearing his yell, knew that he had been hurt, the familiar heaviness of guilt for leading him hear settling on her stomach. But soon she felt the feline scoop her up in one shot, holding her against his chest. His sheer strength and size was able to clear a path out of the swarm, however, the elf held her dagger in her hand, prepared to swipe out at any rogue corpses that might try to change their trajectory.

Orikahn makes it a couple steps outside the crowd and sets her down so he can reach behind himself and tear the clinging wights away, pulling chunks of bloody hair with them. Each in one hand, he crushes their sculls in his fists and throws their bodies back into the crowd, tossing one then the other behind himself as he staggers his way into an unsteady run, galloping unevenly across the ice. Sometimes he staggers and must push himself forward again with his hands, catching and steadying his body against nearby stones or even the ground if necessary, eager to put space between himself and the horrible throng.

Aira took a few stumbling steps as Orikahn placed her down before finding her stride, holding her side as she ran to keep up. The runaway eagerly took breaks with the feline when he did and frowned when she saw his clothes were torn, his fur bloodied. She cast her copper gaze down to her own form and noticed she was equally as bloodied and torn. Her body hurt, her cuts stung, and she wanted nothing more than to rid herself of those white corpses. She tried her best to encourage the feline through heavy, sharp breaths. “Come...on...Kitty...we have...to keep...moving.”

Orikahn leaves a dotted trail of crimson between rusty red footprints. When a staggering step lands his shoulder against the solitary tree, he slumps against it, panting. "Catching my second wind." The feline reaches into his pack for something, and his fingers slip right back out through an open tear. He looks down, and a crestfallen sign escapes him. "Or not." He looks up again, trying to spot the path. It would be easier if everything would stop swimming and wavering all over the place. "Alright." Pushing himself off the trunk, he starts staggering forward again. Behind them, the yet unsatisfied crowd of ghoulish undead are staggering after them, walking with unnatural jerking steps that, as long as our heroes can keep pace, won't easily overtake the two wounded hunters. Their raspy gasps sound sharply through the frosty air.

Staring Spirits

Aira had her own pack concealed under her cloak, one where she had several items to fix up some wounds. The blood splattered snow that followed Orikahn was not lost on the elf who frowned deeply, her guilt bubbling intensely in her stomach. She chanced a look back when they reached the road with the decrepit buildings and upon seeing no eminent danger for the moment feel to her knees, breathing heavily. Clutching at the stitch in her side she swiped at her face and was met with palm covered in blood. Her hair had fallen out of its ponytail and platinum strands stuck in the crimson stains on her face. Slowly she stood once more and moved over to the hunter. “You okay, Kitty?” Copper eyes glanced down at his side where he seemed to have a bite wound.

Orikahn blinks, eyes sweeping around himself in confusion. He'd been here a moment ago. Now, in the moonlit street, every window has a staring face, and if he looks directly, he can meet their peering eyes and lock gazes. "Aira, no." The cat pants in his confusion, forming words between belabored breaths. He presses the broad flat of his palm to one of the oozing bite wounds, grimacing deeply at the sensation his own touch brings. "This isn't the way," Kahn's basso cracks. "It wasn't like this." Most of the scratches seem superficial and have already dried up with clotted gore, but some are still seeping. The bites are worst of all, and Aira can already see black boils of some foul, corrupt contagion beginning to fester in the open wounds. Reaching deep into his reserves, the hunter draws a deep breath and finds a moment of clarity. Lucidity flashes in his gaze. He blinks around himself. "You know the way out." Orikahn tells her. "I'll follow you. I don't want to stop moving." His numb fingers flex stiffly. "I don't want to stop. I don't want to stop."

Aira felt her frown tug even harder on her face as she saw those black boils begin to form on his bite marks. This wasn’t good, she knew the basics of healing but this was something foreign to the high elf. He need to see a healer or priestess or someone more qualified to hand whatever -that- was. She agreed they had to keep moving and she quickly stowed her dagger back in her boot, knocking an arrow into her bow once more, keeping it at the ready. She nodded in agreement when he said he would follow. “Let me know if you need to stop.” She walked with a slight limp although she wasn’t sure what caused her injury and she was sure she looked a fright with her tattered clothes and covered in blood, but she clenched her teeth and began to move quickly out of the ruins.

Orikahn finds it a great relief to stop worrying about where they might be headed and focus his narrowing vision on Aira's heels. The elf will hear the massive sabercat staggering and trudging through the snow behind her, and if she should happen to glance behind herself, her vision will confirm as much, seeing Kahn's unsteady form plodding faithfully onward. He swallows thickly and spits out a mouthfull of foamy saliva. Something was wrong. Lost blood is nothing new to Kahn, and he knows that he's bled plenty more than this and managed well enough. His vision reels, and he blinks forcefully and rapidly, fighting down his rising bile by force of will and trusting his feet to know the way forward. Keep following her heels, Kahn. Stay close on her heels.

Broken Tower Walls

Aira heard the uneven footfalls of the feline behind her and after a particular stagger she does chance a glance back and winced at the sight. Something was wrong and she deduced it was the bites from those undead creatures. She moved back to the hunter and took his hand, placing it on her shoulder. She still kept her bow at the ready but slowed her pace some so they could walk in unison. "Do you want to stop, Kahn?" Her copper gaze flicked back behind the hunters. "I no think we're being followed anymore." She adopted that familiar blank mask on her face when she didn't want to show emotion, but she was very worried for her partner.

Orikahn feels something lifting his hand, and he looks up to find it on Aira's shoulder. "Stop?" The torn edges of his furs dance uselessly in the breeze. "Don't stop," he echoes his earlier assertions, looking down to his own feet now as he focuses on putting one in front of the other in front of the other. With her shoulder to guide him now, the cat has even less to worry about that before an can exert his energies on other things like staying upright. "Too cold. Fire. Stop at a fire." Within his mind, from his seat of consciousness, Orikahn can hear how feebly he speaks, and it alarms him a little. "Tell her to stop, Kahn." An intrusive voice tells him, violating the usual privacy of his mind, and he recognizes the strong, feminine timbre, confusion crosses his tired expression. "Are you sure?" The cat says aloud in answer. "We can make it."

Aira studied Kahn's face, her own eyes narrowed slightly as she took in his features. She heard the tone of his voice and it at once caused her heart to sink further. When he posed his question and then subsequent answer, assuming it was to her, the elf quickly shook her head. "No, we stopping. You growing too weak." She said in a stern voice. "I can make fire, you say you have stuff, right?" She gently led Kahn closer to the tower wall, using it as a partial shield from the cold and wind. She would help him sit if that is what he wished or any position that might be comfortable for him. "Where is, uh..." again, the foreign words escaped her tongue as she made the motions for the flint and steel. "Need to keep warm."

Orikahn seems to catch Aira's drift, and he reaches into his pack, procuring his tinderbox, inside of which Aira will find some good dry tinder and a flint and steel for striking; a little time and some old wood from the broken ruins is all she needs now for a roaring fire. The cat drops this on the snow strewn ground and sets about pacing back and forth, apparently unwilling to sit down, yet. "We can keep going." Kahn reasserts, but he isn't wandering away and seems to just be staying active and moving. "She will build a fire, you will rest." The voice sounds within his mind again, and if Aira's spiritual sensitivities are alert, she might hear it too, like a faint whispering on the wind, a regal voice befitting a queen. "As you wish," Orikahn speaks his answer again, muttering in the darkness.

Aira moved off into the shadows off the ruined wall, coming back with an arm full of some old splintered wood. She stopped when she saw Kahn passing and shook her head. The locks that were not stuck to her face by the now dried blood move about her shoulders. She dropped the wood next to the items the feline had left and set to work. She hesitated once, lifting her head and looking across the expanse of land. She could have sworn she heard a voice... It took her some time and patience, but eventually she does get a roaring fire going, one she placed her hands near to try and regain some warmth. Aira's copper eyes, which seem to glow thanks to the flames up at the hunter. "Kahn, sit. You need to rest." Her tone was not mad, but commanding and she did not move from her place until he had done as she said.

Orikahn looks over to see the glowing fire, startled from his trancelike pacing. Ah, the fire, right. "Yes," the cat agrees, and he moves over next to the rising flames, dropping first to one knee, then gradually folding his legs beneath himself. Sitting down was a different sensation, and it earns him another moment of clarity. He blinks away the haze from his vision and looks around the small, firelit space. The darkness hangs beyond them like an impenetrable shroud out from which the pinpoints of stars wink and fade. At least it has stopped snowing. "Good call," he praises Aira and reaches his hands out, rubbing them in front of the fire as shivers begin to crawl over him. "This is good."

Aira unclasped the cloak around her throat and tossed it in Kahn's direction after sliding off her quiver. She eased off a small pack from her shoulders and began to paw through its contents before pulling out a rag and small bottle of a clear liquid, and surprisingly a needle and thread. She moves over to the hunter's side and inclined her chin towards his wounds. "May I?" The elf knew she wouldn't know what to do with the bite marks but she would at least be able to cleanse and assess his other wounds. Should he let her approach, she would set to cleaning the injuries with her antiseptic and stitch up his clothing that had been torn in the fight in an attempt to keep out more of the chill. And just like when she hunted, her metallic gaze would be hard and steady with concentration and seemingly unblinking.

Orikahn sets his elbows on his knees. By the time Aira has out her needle and antiseptic, Kahn has faded out of consciousness, or at least responsiveness, and he shivers by the fireside, still sitting more or less upright with his head bowed toward the fire. A small noise, maybe a gasp, interrupts his shivering when she begins stitching him up, but he doesn't move from where he sits. Warm and relatively safe at last, Orikahn cannot seem to keep his eyes open any longer. Rest indeed, big kitty.

Aira remained silent and she continued to work on Orikahn's wounds, cleansing and stitching as necessary. She noticed he nodded off at some point and she thought that was all the more better for him. When she was done she stood, stretching her arms over her head and groaning slightly. She had a nice gash in her thigh and there was the impressive bump on her head where she collided with the wall, but the elf didn't seem to really notice or care. She slung her own cloak over Kahn, knowing it's size wouldn't do much, but hoping even the slightest extra warmth would help. Aira would spend the rest of the time seated, feeding the fire when needed, and her bow at the ready, keeping watch for beasties and corpses.

Orikahn snoozes in this fashion for a bit over an hour. Sometimes seems to wake up just long enough to spit out a mouthful of stringy, foamy saliva, but he always fades right back out again. Finally, he sits up blinking and gives his groggy head a shake. "Uggh," the cat shudders and presses his palms to his eyes, groaning. "My head." Hiding his eyes in the crook of one arm, Orikahn fishes in his pack with his other, eventually pulling out a wineskin and unstopping it. The smell of spiced liquor pervades the immediate area. He takes a big swig, noisily downs it, then tips back another to swish in his mouth, then spit. "I feel chewed up and spat out."

Aira jumped slightly when Orikahn finally woke, the sudden noise startling her, and her body twisting painfully to take a look at him. The smell of the spiced liquor does permeate the immediate area and is warm and welcoming especially with the roaring fire. The elf remained in her stoic watch position, still looking rather worse for the wear with all the blood smeared over her face and various body parts, her lips also twinged blue. She offered the hunter a half smile with a slight shrug. "I don't know about the spit out part, but you were slightly chewed up."

Orikahn reaches up to touch his own shoulder and discovers an extra cloak there. "I recall," the cat hoarsely notes, and he offers the elf her garment back. "You look awful." Kahn looks laughably bad himself, still hunched halfway over with bloodshot eyes. "When did we stop?" The feline squints his eyes shut again and takes a second swig, doing his very best to shy his face away from the light of the fire and hoping the elf takes her cloak soon.

Aira laughs lightly, her own voice slightly hoarse. "Oh gee, thanks Kitty. You sure know how to charm a girl." The elf extended her arm hesitantly towards her cloak, but eventually grasped it and threw it around her shoulders, tugging it around her body a bit tighter. Aira took her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought on the question; everything since she had been yanked from the piano was a running blur, having happened so quickly. "I saw a couple hours ago we stopped, you staggering bad and need to rest."

Orikahn sort of remembers something like that, yeah. Finding her simple explanation plausible enough, the feline tries to get a good lungful of air and immediately regrets it, hissing at the pain in his side. He tries to touch it and finds the spot incredibly tender. The bites, he imagines. "Rotten old monument," Kahn curses the tombstone that had crumbled when he tried to leap. "Something in those claws, or those bites," the cat gripes, "was bad juju." Orikahn recalls feeling a somewhat similar sensation after having sustained bites from a giant spider. "Ugh," he offers the bottle to Aira and presses his face tight into his elbow again, trying not to groan aloud. "Wouldn't I kill for a bit of good moss..." He *hasn't* forgotten the gaping tear in his pack. No doubt, some of his precious herbal remedies are waiting for him out on the trail, trampled to useless pulp beneath the feet of wandering wights.

Aira bit her bottom lip a bit harder, this time drawing some blood as she did so, nodding her agreement at the bad juju. "I sorry I drag you into this mess, Kahn," she offered in a much smaller voice than she usually used. She graciously accepted the skin but merely held it in hands, her eyes staring into the flames apparently deep in thought. It wasn't until the hunter mentioned moss that Aria tore her metallic pools from the flames. "Moss?" She pulled her pack towards her again and ruffled through it, eventually coming up with a handful of the stuff. "This? I pick some after you use it on my shoulder. Although, I don't know if it right kind..." she admitted rather sheepishly.

Orikahn grits his teeth, waiting for the pounding in his head to subside. "Hmm? Sorry? Tsk!" Orikahn clicks his tongue. "I'm suffering on my own account, you softy. Don't you think I could have left you to fend for yourself?" He snorts a frosty puff. "I followed you in. I drew the wights. I missed my jump. Simple as that." Orikahn's tone is final. "Hmm? Oh, oh!" Eagerly, he takes her offer and pulls off a bit of moss so he can wedge the little clump deep inside his cheek. "Mmmmm, yes, good enough. Ha." Gratefully, he sucks on the little wad on vegitation.

Aira narrowed her eyes slightly at being called a softy, but it was only in jest; however, the guilt that had been bubbling inside her seemed to calm a bit. She did grin as he took her moss gratefully before settling down herself, resting her head on her pack. "Maybe your choice but I still feel guilty, as it my hunt after all," she said with a snort. "Plus, who know what your Savage Queen will do to elf like me if I get her most devoted hunter killed by a bunch of corpses?" Aira shifted slightly on the ground in an attempt to get comfortable. "She try to kill me once, I think she try again."

Orikahn snorts, at what Aira is left to guess. For now, the cat chews and focuses on breathing without causing himself too much pain. After a few seconds he speaks. "The Queen chose me because I am strong. I die, then I am weak; I will have failed, and she will choose another." Blinking blearily again, the cat manages to spit a green string of saliva into the fire. "Haaah. I'll be good to walk soon. Heh." Kahn chuckles to himself. "If I died and you lived, maybe she'd pick you." The cat groans and begins getting back up onto one knee, then onto his feet. Let's see what standing feels like, eh? Oh, nope, getting lightheaded. He goes back down to one knee. "Grah."

Aira turned her head to look at Kahn and considered his words for a moment. "You see death as a weakness? I see it as a blessing." The elf watched as Kahn moved from one knee to the next and try to stand, only to come back down with his light-headedness. The elf curled her arm under her head and turned her gaze to the heavens. "She not pick me, I not big and strong like you, even if I did slay mammoth," she chuckled slightly then. "We stay here as long as you need, Kahn, there is no rush, at least, not yet," she conceded. Her slender fingers reach up to the side of her head and begin to prod at her injury causing a wince. "That spirit that pulled my hair said to stop meddling," she offered to her fellow hunter.

Orikahn pauses at one knee, letting himself adjust before standing bent at the middle, leaning over with his hands on his knees, taking things a bit at a time. "I think I'll be good in no time." He spits again. "That moss is just what I needed." Looking over just in time to see Aira touching her bump, Kahn offers a mischievous grin. "That spirit's got another thing coming. I don't back down from a challenge, Aira. We're going to give it a proper thrashing, I say." Tentatively at first, a little uncertain, Kahn begins straightening his back, raising gradually up to his full height. "Ahh, there!" His back pops, and he hisses again, though this time through a grin.

Aira chuckled and shook her head, slowly sitting up once again when she sees Kahn moving to his feet. "You know me well enough by now, I don't listen and I quite stubborn," her own mischievously smile spread across her face. When she saw the feline at his full height she assumed it was time to get going again so she began to reassemble her gear. She made sure her supplies were secured in her back before sliding it over her shoulders. Her cloak was reclasped at her throat before the quiver of arrows followed suit. The elf was back on her feet and had just picked up her now before casting those copper eyes to Orikahn. "You sure you okay to keep moving?"

Orikahn takes out his bow and knocks an arrow, nodding in agreement with Aira's fairly accurate self-assessment. He's perfectly content to take a moment to relax while she gather's her gear. His head is still throbbing, but at least he can tolerate moving, now, and he isn't on the verge of unconsciousness. "Sure as can be." Kahn knows his bites are bad, and though he's never bothered to seek a healer's help, he's prepared to make an exception this time. "I'm ready to head back, but your hunt definitely isn't over."

Aira kicked some snow over their makeshift fire and moved to Orikahn's side, giving him the once over. "You must see healer when we get back to city." She drew her bow once again and began to walk slowly towards the east. "You say if we need to stop again." She glanced back towards their temporary campsite to make sure everything was packed before it was gone from sight. She slid a grin in Kahn's direction once more. "No worries, a few corpses and mean ghosties won't scare me away."

Orikahn walks with her. He still moves with a visible limp, but he seems confident that the most difficult leg of the journey is behind them. "Agreed, elf. Agreed." Eastward they march.