Hurricane Event [day 1, early morning]

[Viv]

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[attr="class","mary3"]WE FALL THE SAME

[attr="class","mary4"]WHEN WE WALK THE WIRE

[attr="class","mary5"] Amarin offered a tired sigh in response to Salome's jab, it was hardly the time to start much else. She found the confined space of their meeting point rather suffocating but she kept her mouth shut as her shoulder touched the wolf next to her. Comfort was a luxury in this situation and she cared less for her own comfort than the comfort of the rest of the pack.

The suggestion that fell from Iiona's muzzle caught Amarin's attention quick out of concern. She hadn't expected anything so drastic, but an ideal situation, a safer course of action was far from impossible. Even in her time as the lead guard, Amarin had rarely crossed paths with a crocodile. When she was granted such an unfortunate opportunity it resulted in more pains than gains. But, the fear of seeing much of her pack perish because of the storm won her over to the idea. To the point where she was all too ready to jump on the idea and even commit her own knowledge and leadership to the situation. She knew the island and it's scaley inhabitants more than most in the pack so it wasn't a challenge she could willingly back away from. Though the worry that filled her purple eyes was clearly evident and she couldn't help that.

"I'm not particularly keen on this course of action. And I'm worried about the lives that might be sacrificed for a plan that could do us far more bad than good." She paused before continuing, trying her best to frame her ideas properly. "But I do know more than a few things about crocodiles, useless information until now. I do believe it is a risk worth taking." Her eyes passed over the faces of her fellow wolves. "Though I'm not willing to run out there to my death and I'm not willing to see any other wolf take that action. So, if we must do this we need a well thought out plan." Finally, she paused on Iiona as this decision was hers to finally decide upon.

"And, I doubt the crocodiles have fared too well either. They need both the sun and the water, as we all know. With the sky blotted with storm clouds, it is possible that they will be less prepared to defend themselves. This is an observation from many guards over centuries and something that could aid us." Amarin's eyes moved to Aelyx for a confirmation of her knowledge, after all his presence had been felt around the pack long before she was born, surely his ears had picked up such information from her predecessors. She only hoped such knowledge was accurate as it was only an observation that had never been tested personally for obvious reasons.

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[attr="class","mary3"]TAGS/NOTES

[attr="class","mary4"]Heika Lirriel

MADE BY SIFR

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[Lirriel]

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[attr="class","sin3"]Beware, beware, be skeptical

[attr="class","sin4"]Of their smiles, their smiles of plated gold

[attr="class","sin5"]The cavern they entered was cramped, claustrophobic – and with the press of the walls, the humidity of the air, it was far too easy for Salome to envision their hiding place as a great beast’s gullet. But, he thought with some morbid humor, they had already been swallowed; the hurricane had seen to that. This was simply an extension of its body, a rocky stomach that would slowly dissolve them.

A single drop of water fell upon his head, and he flinched violently.

As it was, he could not dwell upon the image his mind had conjured nor the pressing tightness that clutched his heart, squeezing it tightly. Instead, a more tangible discomfort made itself known as his packmates shoved up against him, forcing him to comply with this unescapable shared space situation.

He was not fond of touch – there was something unpleasant about his fur brushing against another’s, especially when they were his allies only in name. The council was a carefully-balanced scale, and it was too easy for the balance to shift against any one of them if they failed in their tasks.

For now, Aelyx was the weak link – but Salome knew he had no true friends amongst the council members, knew they all regarded him with wary politeness or carefully-concealed hostility. This brushing of coats, this pressing of shoulders: it made the scale tremble, and his snout wrinkled in the comfort of the dark, the only way he could possibly express his displeasure without the others knowing.

But Iiona did not let him suffer for long, and he was grateful to the challenge she posed; it made him think. Pondering how best to deal with their situation made it easier to ignore the unease that threatened to swallow him.

“How much food do we have? Assuming a full meal for each member, how quickly would our supplies run out?”

These were necessary questions, when faced with her best solution: fighting crocodiles. Crocodiles.

Much as Amarin knew something of them, he too had come across the beasts. It was an inevitability. Crocodiles, by their very nature, were territorial beasts, and he had on occasion witnessed them swimming within the shallows of the ocean that surrounded their island. Once, indeed, he had seen a crocodile hunt and capture a shark – but it was the size of them, the aggression of them, the speed with which they could move – it was too easy to see his packmates within those great, gaping jaws.

He pressed his jaws together tightly. To imagine Naiad, to imagine Azain – but damn it all, what was their other option?

When he spoke, there was a tired mirth beneath his words, an unsettled humor, “We die slowly or swiftly – these are our available options.”

As for what Amarin spoke – it was a thought, but his immediate response suggested caution. He was not so willing to believe the words of dead wolves, was not so quick to acknowledge a hope that might prove false. “Yes, they may have suffered as we have – or they may be all the more pissed off. If they’ve been displaced by the storm, they may act overly aggressive.”

And that was a thought, wasn’t it?

“But perhaps,” and he spoke softly, slowly. As if he was afraid to fully voice his thoughts – because if they followed his words, and if they died… “Perhaps we can use their displacement to our advantage. Crocodiles are territorial; if a pair of bulls find themselves sharing the same stretch of water, they may clash. They’re absolute brutes.”

He had seen, once, the death rolls they employed against each other – had seen one of the contender’s arms grasped in the other’s powerful jaws before it began to spin. And he had seen the way the arm tore off as easily as he might strip the flesh from a fish.

“If we could go after an injured one, we might stand something of a chance.”

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[attr="class","sinner"]Heika , Viv	[attr="class","sinner"]stock by ria p.	656
im so sorry this took so long!!

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[Heika]

As Amarin and Salome spoke, Iiona listened with rapt interest, waiting until they had both had a chance to voice their opinions before responding to each in turn. “I understand your qualms, Amarin, but believe me when I say I would not send any wolf on a task I would not undertake myself. If we do decide to hunt a crocodile, rest assured that I will take part in it.” She answered, turning to face the direction of Salome’s voice even though he could not see her do so. “If every wolf was fed, we would run short of food in a mere three days. Our stocks were extremely depleted in the first place, and with the new…” For a moment, Iiona hesitated. The word on the tip of her tongue was one used by all wolves in the pack, but it was a blunt, dividing word. Outsiders. They had three with them right then, three wolves who were not pack born, who no one knew if they could trust, who they couldn’t afford to feed. Iiona knew that if she acknowledged them as such, so would every other wolf in the pack turn against them. Halcyon, Naiad, Azain, all three had come to the pack in hopes of a better life, but they had arrived at a tumultuous time, a time that seemed wholly dedicated to trying the pack’s strength and tearing at their seams so as to rip them apart. They, more so than anyone else, were in grave danger. For, if Iiona had to choose, had to decide between them and the pack’s survival, she would sacrifice them to the hurricane in a heartbeat. Such were the responsibilities she owed to her pack. But, the longer she thought about the “outsiders” – of Azain and her youthful enthusiasm, of Naiad and her gentle soul, of Halcyon and his mournful stare and the secret history he bore in his grizzled pelt and crisscrossing scars and humbling respect he so freely offered – the more she began to worry that, if the time came, she would not be able to make that choice. “…Initiates to feed, we will burn through what little we have too soon. Even if we severely ration our supplies, we will still risk going hungry for several days, if not a week at least, waiting for prey to return to the island.” Taking a deep breath, Iiona took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I believe that it is in our best interests to take action sooner than later. You bring up a good point, Salome, but I do not think we should leave it up to chance. It would be unwise to stay out in the storm any longer than necessary; the exposure and lingering cold could lead to sickness. We cannot wander through our territory in hopes of two crocodiles attacking one another thanks to a coincidental encounter. If it comes down to it, we may have to orchestrate the entire event ourselves, acting as bait to draw the crocodile’s attention and then leading them to a nearby rival. Our wolves are swift and nimble, better adapted for speed than strength. This may be a better plan than facing a healthy bull head-on.” Once again, having finished everything she wished to say, Iiona fell silent to allow the rest of her council to respond. Aelyx remained quiet, glanced down at his paws and retreated into his thoughts. speaking Lirriel Viv

CODING BY TEMPEST.