Difference between revisions of "Trail of Tears: The Quest Chapter 2"

Revision as of 03:49, 22 January 2014

The elder's eyes crink as the words roll off her tongue. "Children of Coyote" a presumptive term, rather direct and crude as the curl of her mouth shows a small grin. The woman's long grey hair is tucked behind her, and she looks her part, except for the jeans and flannel shirt she has on. Behind her, the nervous son of the former sheriff hangs back, seeming to still be off put by the strange creatures in the room. The current sheriff is on her feet, bringing a chair over for the eldress to sit.

Heath raises a paw, and waves a bit at the elder before he lowers down his head on his fore paws.

Balina is trying not to appear incensed by the term. She's stopped growling, at least, but she remains curled around Eithne, head propped up on the edge of the lap desk. Staring suspiciously.

Crystala is curled up in the one open cell in the small place, she's watching quietly. Her mate is standing just across the desk from the sheriff and gives a smirk at the mention of Coyote, she's got a quick response, "So you know him?" her skunktail held proudly high.

Sparhawk, the strangest of strange things, is still leaning against the outside wall. Next to a window that blows feeble wind into the room and lets the conversation out for the blue skunk hexataur's flicking ears to catch.

Eithne is still flopped against Balina, maps spread out in front of her. Having just greeted the Elder, she leans forward to examine her maps again for the moment, but her ears remain perked and turned to best catch the old woman's words. A paw idly reaches out to scritch at Bal's ears, trying to appease the disgruntled wolf with her affection.

Grantok half-smiles. This was one of the better possibilities to have expected upon arrival. She nods her head politely to the elder. "I take it you would know why we are here if you are calling us by that name." Her tail flicks mildly, gauging if her hunch was right about the situation.

The Eldress sits on the offered chair, resting her old ankles with an audible crack. Sitting properly she continues, "I'm afraid there aren't many of us left to properly greet you. One does wish sometimes the spirits would be more direct when they hint of the future. Our people are a proud one, and will stand strong in the end, long after the white man has passed from its own ambitions." She looks directly at the Lynx and answers, "Oh yes, I knew of your coming years ago. The dark one's return was known among the tribes before the world fell. It's unfortunate the great seer passed during the dark days that came." She looks to the sheriff and says, "Child, would you get a coat or blanket for me, it's rather chilly in here." despite the hundred degree weather outside.

Balina makes no apology, but glances back at Eithne with the barest, tiniest hint of a smile. Then back to watching the elder.

Eithne nods slowly, humming thoughtfully. "Yes, it would be great if the spirits were more direct in such hints. We were sent looking for something, but given imprecise directions for finding it. Would that happen to have been mentioned in hints your tribe was given, Elder...?" The cat hasn't actually looked up from her notes and maps, despite the honest respect in her (slightly distracted) tone. The gears in her head are spinning.

Heath doesn't say anything, though he does glance at balina a moment and then to his own paw. His tail flicks just a bit before he looks back to the old woman, listening to every word that she said. He was being so silent that he barely even breathed..

Inola, as the sheriff had given her name earlier, looks a little panicked about the place, searching for something to give her. Crys in the cell shifts a bit to pick up a blanket that had been left there, and carries it out, handing it to the younger woman with a respectful glance before returning to a location where she can watch. Sorien's already moved on to, "And we hear you had visitors before us?"

A flick of her tufted ear accompany a greater smirk across the lynx's face. Grantok remains quiet to let the elder continue her thoughts and answer the questions already placed before her.

The Eldress continues, at her own pace of explanation. "You are here for the lost. The one thing we were charged with keeping yet failed in our duties and were punished with our lands lost to the white man?" Her eyes focusing again on the Lynx. There's an odd expression on Inola's face behind, as she is wrapping the blanket around the older woman. She asks, "But, that story isn't true, is it? It can't be."

Sparhawk calls from outside, "Now who's being vague and hard to understand?" Hir voice is amused and slips into a conversational low point.

Eithne continues absently scritching at Balears, glancing up to meet the Elder's gaze. "The Dagger. Yes, we're here for it, and the spirits said it was somewhere here." She taps a specific, country-scale map, and then moves it aside for a more localized one with a /large/ area circled. "Which narrows it to somewhere inside this zone. Which... doesn't help us. But maybe you can help narrow it further? Maybe the tale of how you apparently lost it?" The neko leans back against her mate, focusing more on the Elder instead of the maps at the moment.

The elder cocks her head at Balina, "I only know of the stories handed down to me, by my elders child. If you know more than I do, you are welcome to return it to us." her missing teeth showing in her slightly crooked smile. To the bird outside she says, "Tales must be told in a proper fashion, or they will be forgotten. Of all things we have lost, the ability to remember is not one of them." Inola moves slowly around the room toward the leopardess, her eyes still focusing on the elder, the sheriff’s son is back out in the heat outside mulling about, still seeming offput by the strange creatures. The eldress coughs just a little and pulls her blanket tight, before addressing the short nekomata, "Of course you are. It is why I was expecting you, why we've been expecting you for some time. And I was afraid that I would not live long enough to help. The others where here for me, you know. They wanted my blood, but they took my husband's instead."

Eithne nods slowly, and gives the woman a sympathetic smile. Though there is a quiet mutter of "I knew it. Trying to impede us... who gave them the warning, though...?" from the cat.

"We haven't exactly been the most subtle in our travelling destination. It wouldn't take long for certain evils to figure why we were doing so either." Grantok appears less cheery than earlier, her eyes narrowed and previous expression wiped from her face.

Sparhawk eyes the twitchy sheriff-prince thoughtfully a while. As the story spins on in a mostly-linear fashion inside, Spar fishes out some Bits and fiddles around for a few minutes.

Balina glances about to make sure nobody else is going to say it before she flops her head down atop a paw. "This is going to be one of those evenings. Okay, are we doing riddles, puns, or is this simply a case of storytime? I'm sure that the people who came through here first aren't going to make any headway out there in the meantime."

Outside, the young man fidgets nervously, but notices the creature nearby looking at him. He shuffles a bit, then speaks up. "What, exactly, are you? How can you live looking like that? How can any of you?" Inside, Inola places a hand on Crystala's shoulder, a small thank you of sorts for the blanket, and a curious look toward the leopardess is passed. Sorien pauses in her rapt attention to scold Balina, "Bal, don't be rude." before turning back, "We do want to hear, it's why we came after all." cheerfully delivered.

"Years of practice!" calls a distracted Balina, curling a little tighter.

Heath's ears perk a bit "Heath does like stories.. not really good with riddles though." he speaks softly.

The Eldress says, "Oh psh. You must have bad storytellers. The good ones know how to keep you interested so you remember. That's what stories are for, are they not? They're about memory." She breaths again, a small rasping noise accompanying it. "I'll spare you the introduction, you know of what happened to our great nation, I hope? The white man still teaches about how they outsmarted our elders and stole our land, do they not?"

Sparhawk glances up at the question but remains quiet, fiddling with a fan and a blobby plastic casing...which starts up with a low buzz. "Hah! Got it. Erm, you looked hot. Clip this to your hat?" With a blue skunk hand offering the portable fan to the former sheriff's son, shi continues, "I am complicated. I can light things on fire with my hands and survive a whole bunch of gunshots to the test, though. I'd be covered in scars if I didn't remake myself."

Eithne shakes her head, and then idly bumps her head against Balina's in both affection and rebuke. "I'm, um, from a little further up North. I've got nothing on how it happened down here, no."

Heath looks around a bit.. "Who is white man?" he asked curiously tail slowly flicking on the floor. "White man stole land? Why didn't someone call cops?"

The man, Ash, seems startled with the sudden gift, and actually complies, putting the request, and attaches the small thing on his hat, and blinks in surprise as it actually works, a little high pitched buzz emitting to the area outside. He nervously asks, "Gunshots, wait, I could shoot you and you wouldn't be hurt?" blinking in surprise, feeling a lot less safe with the gun attached to his side.

"Books of history mention such though few individuals still teach the information directly." Grantok provides an answer for the elder. "At least not many from where we come from."

The Eldress frowns at the response, "That is disheartening, but not entirely surprising. Your people used to brag how they got our leaders drunk, and got them to sign over our land to them. They then drove us on foot, out of our land, away from where our ancestors rested to the east, despite many of us bleeding, and falling we were cast out into the barren land no one wanted. The trail of tears, where even the spirits did not hear our cries. We grew too greedy and stupid and stopped listening to the spirits, and they stopped caring." Her eyes are hard at this, not so much anger at what was done, so much at where her people fell. "It was this, that was punishment for our loss, or so I have been told."

Sparhawk shakes hir head. "The old thing about double-tap? Needs a few more on people or monsters fulla nanites. Also, the number of dragons I've punched in the nose probably exceeds the number of people you've ever met. Doesn't make being-on-fire hurt any less, but you...get used to it."

"It was told, that our people's pride was so great, that even the spirits began to mock us. One of the river spirits, of a tribe not ours, sought to embarrass the Cherokee leaders. Wisakedjak, a pale shadow of a trickster, decided to steal something of value from our people, to prove us false. He wore the skin of Coyote, and came to us under his guise. He never spoke his name, simply greeting the people, who welcomed the great one like a king, knowing he would treat us before all the other people for we were his chosen." The eldress' story begins.

Eithne nods slowly, and gives a disgruntled noise. "... And the people who came here know about that, and are looking for Wisakedjak themselves, also looking for the dagger no doubt. Wonder if they have any leads at this point...? But it's obvious we'll need to go confront them. Though, I do have a question - if we wanted to walk the Trail of Tears, and follow the steps of your tribe... Where would we start?"

The woman looks pained a moment. "To walk the trail of tears, it's not about location, you must walk the path of our people in all ways." She moves her hand to her neck and removes a necklace, wood and bone elegantly carved. "You may take this dear, it may help you to see the path itself." extending her hand in Eithne's direction. She looks curious, "You did not want to hear how he tricked us then? If that is enough, I will find my path towards sleep. I am old and tired, and cold."

Ash frowns, "It was hard enough dealing with those folks who killed my dad. He shot one of them three times and they kept walking. Strangled him to death. They didn't look much like you, sir... or wait, maam?" he asks, realizing he's not sure.

Eithne slides away from Balina's side, and walks over to gently and reverently take the amulet from the old woman. She slides it around her neck, leaving it out and exposed. Then she carefully holds the old, weathered hand in her paws, and smiles (carefully) at the Elder. "Tell me if I'm wrong. Pretending to by Coyote, he used his trickster's tongue and took advantage of your trust, saying he needed the dagger for some important task, or that it had been a test and your people had passed it well?"

Balina watches the trinket as it travels, sniffing gently before watching the elder intently. "Less concerned with how you lost it, and more concerned of when and where. 'Trickster fools mortals' is something we hear a lot."

Balina nods towards Eithne, smiling as best as her muzzle allows. "A /lot/."

Inola leans in and whispers to Crystala, "Would you all be upset if I asked to come with you? If you're going after those bastards, I'd really like to be sure they die." An odd person to ask, considering Crys has snown no outward leadership. She looks a little lost, unsure and seeking help from the others on the answer.

Heath slowly cocks his head towards the old woman. "How did the fake coyote trick?" he slowly stood up and walks to the old woman nice and slowly. His dual-colored eyes full of curiosity.. though Balina spoke, his ears folded back for a moment then he gave a huff.. before he sat back down on his haunches. "Could story of when and wear also help by knowing how tricked? If know how tricked it may give ideas."

Sparhawk tips hir hat to Ash. "S'not the gun that is evil, but the person who uses it. Power is power, and has done things to its wielder since we started having names." The hat gets readjusted, the sun being uncomfortably warm on the back of hir neck. "Just like a sheriff's badge, really. Ask an illegal immigrant what he thinks about the shield sometime."

The Eldress frowns, "You young ones always think you know everything. I did explain earlier, that stories are not in what is told, but how." and a hand reaches out to scratch Heath, petting at the wolf's head like a friendly dog. "I will give you the whole story child, but this tale is broken, and I must rest." To which she gets slowly up on her crooked ankles. She rummages about in her pockets, and pulls out a feather, and then takes a bit of leather tying it around Heath's neck. She slowly makes her way up and out, immediately saying to Ash, "Please bring me home." The conversation broken before he can respond to Sparhawk. "Uh..." looking back and forth between the eldress and the hexataur. "I'll take your word for it." before getting the vehicle ready.

Grantok shrugs, looking at Crystala out of the corner of her eye. Her attention has moved back towards the maps at the resurgence of interest in the assailants from the last night.

Sparhawk ambles along to the car. "I'd offer a ride of my own, madam, but I expect a car is kinder to your joints than any running creature known to man. Don't tell that story before I'm around to hear it too." To Ash himself shi says, "I'll try and cobble together a solar panel for the fan when I come back. Dunno how long that battery will last."

Heath smiles to the old lady and leans into the petting she gives him. He tries not to lean to far to keep his wolfish pride, though none the less he did like the attention. Though when she tied the feather around his neck he tried to sniff at.. "Heath understand. Good night, nice old lady." he moved away to not be in her way - heading over to sit down again.

Eithne nods, and waves to the Elder. "When we get back from dealing with the group of assailants you'll tell us, then...?" the cat asks quietly, ears partially flattening as she gets a Bad Feeling. She slowly meanders over to resit by the maps, pulling out a highlighter to mark the fastest path to the landmark she thinks the riders have holed up in.

Sorien slips over to Crys and gives her a quick embrace, before answering Inola, "Of course you are welcome. Do you know much about the area? We could use a guide I'm sure." Crys looks relieved to not be responsible for answering. "I have no issue, but are you sure she'll be alright if we leave her here? She mentioned something about them wanting her blood." indicating the eldress departing.

Ash tips his hat at Sparhawk, and gets the police car started, before opening a door for the Eldress who shambles in. She gives a quick smile at Sparhawk as she sits. "I will be sure to include you." and then a nod before the door is shut. The police car revs off, leaving the group to decide their course of action.

Balina carefully works herself upright, months of practice dodging notes left near her body serving her well. "Fine. We find some people, we work off a little energy, then we come back and listen to stories." Sorien's comment causes her to stop where she is, wincing slightly as if struck. "Fffff," she fails to vocalize. Turning to the elder, "This is going to sound really, really stupid, but when we get back, can I convince you to prick yourself for the greater good?"

Sparhawk meanders indoors, left in the police car dust. "Still don't know basically anything about these thieves, rapists and arsonists. While those are all good reasons to thump them about the head and shoulders..."

Grantok idly indicates a few areas on the path that Eithne marked that could prove to be problematic and best to keep on high alert when passing through. "It would be nice to have an idea of what numbers we are up against."

Heath tries to sniff the feather she put on him... "Heath got feather..... why does heath got feather." he whispers softly... "Weird old lady give weird gift.. oh well." he shrugged a bit.

Balina gives a snort as she passes Heath, making for the door. "Weird old lady makes weird old decisions. Ask her after we deal with... whatever. It sounds like the entire recon we're getting ahead of time is 'they did supernatural things to people who aren't experts in same'."

Inola's response is, "Four. Or well, three and a monster." She shivers, "The brutish one's no man. Not with the look in his eyes, and the way he took a bullet. Blood does not bleed black." a shiver is added.

Heath turns and heads to walk behind Balina.. really not having anything to say more..

Balina stops, turns, stares. She's doing a lot of that tonight.

Heath glances at Inola, "Bleed black?"

Grantok sighs and continues. "And our usual aerial reconnaissance isn't here to help either. Hope everything is going better on their ends." She looks to Inola then to the others. "Tar like, I imagine?"

Sparhawk applies the classic facepalm to the situation. "Someday, I'm going to run into something with supernatural phleghm or something, and will be surprised it's not blood." Shi peeks over at the array of maps, which did not rustle themselves out the window for overhearing.

Balina snarls, "Okay, now I am /really/ looking forward to this. Lady, you have just made my week."

Crys' eyes narrow into slits, her reaction simple, "At least we can be sure that their deaths are justified and deserved then."

Inola adds, "Oh yes, definitely. Three bullets in the chest would stop a man. He did not stop, and killed just as easily. Drained the blood of the Eldress' husband, and then set fire before they left." She looks about, "Would it be easier to follow them if I bring you to where they were, or did you already have an idea of where to head?"

Eithne hrms thoughtfully, glancing around the street. "... Makes me wish there was a bubble or something. My drones would work, and they'd be able to distract any raiders that come this way and send us any new information. Oh well." Then she's looking over at Inola. "And we have an idea of where to go. The Toltec Mounds."

Grantok's gaze moves towards Balina. "What do you make of that idea, bloodhound? Up for that hunt you were itching for before?"

Heath softly sniffs at Grantok, and then to Balina "Bloodhound?" he asks curiously as to what that meant though just shakes it off a bit.

That is completely unfair, Balina was already enthused. Those behind her should exercise caution. "I want to find if there's any blood left. And if that... thing is the kind of thing we think it is, I'll be able to pick it up from blocks away. For the love of whatever, let's go."

At the very suddenly ravenous looking wolf with a tail that could injure someone, Inola gives a look of fear, and is strategically places with a skunk and leopardess between her. "We can walk if you all don't want to drive. It's only a few blocks away."

Grantok nods and walks towards the door. "Less sound the better. At least until we've got the drop on them."

Heath walked between the other wolf and the sheriff.. his tail was dangling between his legs without much excitement of movement other than a gentle swish every once and awhile as he walks...

Eithne climbs up onto Balina's back, gripping the handholds installed on the wolf's backpack for her use and getting out of tail slap range. "True. There, then see if it helps us find them any better? If nothing else... Gran, the Mounds are hours off. So I hope we don't run into them now, because it means they'd be here to cause trouble again."

Balina is, unfortunately, currently curled somewhat around herself, with her own tail batting around near her own face. She bends down to facilitate ease of Eithne, then shuffles to make way for Inola. "After you, of course. I'll try not to bound /too/ far ahead once we get there, but no promises."

Heath shrugs a little "Regardless.. Heath know Balina scent, so heath can track Balina if Balina get to far ahead."

The Sheriff moves back to her desk, grabbing her hat, and pulling a second gun and ammunition out from inside. "I'll show the way, but I'm not going any closer. The place stinks something foul." And with that she leads the group out into the street, and a few blocks westward. There's a potent smell of burnt flesh the closer they get.

Eithne seems rather unbothered by the scent of burning flesh, besides the way her tail flicks through the air angrily.

"The mounds may be a ways away, but that depends on whether their goal was to beat us to Whiskey Jack or to prevent the information fully reaching us." Grantok looks towards Balthne as they walk. "And I'm betting that if Shadow is behind this that causing trouble is a top priority. If nothing more, getting the vehicles isn't too far off from here."

Balina takes a few deep breaths, bracing herself against the ground as if suddenly pulled forward. Turning to Heath, she gestures with her nose straight towards where it went down. "Pay attention. This is what we came for. Forget the dagger, forget anything else. That deep, perverse smell of /wrong/. Shadow's been here." She can't glance at her own back, but the icewolf does look up. "You are buckled in up there, right, dear?"

Heath sniffs a bit and looks at the sheriff, then around a bit as he sniffs the air curiously. Taking in all the scents as... foul as it may be. The task of the nose was not always a pleasant one, though if he was going to work with balina and pull his fair share of sniff-a-duty then he must do what he must. "Heath smell it.." his eyes slowly narrow a bit, he stands a bit taller with his fur a bit puffed.. "We go after that?"

Sparhawk ambles along at the back of the group, without proper pockets to put hands in. Roasted human is, alas, a sensation to which visitors to Woodfield tend to become desensitized.

Crys seems to hesitate following, hanging back from the rest. She looks upset, visibly upset. Above, the closer they get, the darker the sky above grows, like a storm cloud hitting suddenly casting the place in an eerie violet overcast. The place tingling with energy. Sorien's tail is agitated, she's felt this before. Everyone in fact can sense it. An overwhelming sense of pain, like a strain on the earth itself, the closer to the source they get the more maddening it makes the skin itch.

Eithne does not like the feeling, and it's rather obvious as she curls into Balina's backpack, little wisps of Phoenix Fire kicking into being around her. "... mrrrrrr." is her only sound, TEETH pulling into a vicious snarl and ears flattening to her head. One paw flexes, claws sliding in and out.

Balina is, if anything, growing more excited as the group continues. Her nose leads, only occasionally being stymied as she stops to look back at the group in a silent plea for them to hurry up. Her mouth waters, her tongue hangs so low that it threatens to drag on the ground, and those standing too close might hear her stomach rumbling.

Heath shakes his head.. "This is not good." he whispers to himself under his breath before he tries to recompose himself. The scent mixed with the darkening skies.. the feeling of dread and pain seeming to come from the earth... following not to far behind Balina, that he could indeed hear the stomach rumbling... quite odd really though his didn't really do much other then aching and.. for some reason he was a bit excited about the whole thing even though a part of him was saying turn and run another was begging him to go faster.

Sparhawk snorts at the unsubtle design choices of the adversary. Quips churn around, but the unpleasantness is sufficient that none of them make it into spoken words.

Grantok instinctively clutches the wooden coins in her pocket, letting her ears keep on lookout while keeping an eye on Balina and Heath. Keeping up is another matter altogether as she appreciates the momentary pauses to provide catch up.

The burnt shells of buildings are around, but really they aren't surprising or compelling. However, in the center area there's a house still standing unburnt among the rubble. In near mint condition. Hung from a clothesline in the front is a body, flies crawling over its frame. his shirt cut open on the arms and red scars carved on each are now a home to the insects. The sky above feels like it's ready to storm, the expectant sound of thunder rumbling never quite coming.

Balina busily sniffs all over everything. The house, the body, the ground, the body again, the area around the body, back to the body one more time...

Enraptured by the base scents, it takes a moment for the full thing to hit Balina, but there's something inside the house that calls to her. More than the body, which just smells like death, drained mostly of blood. It really does deserve to be buried or burnt. Inola hangs back, looking ill. "How, how did this not burn, it was in the center of the blaze?"

Heath while Balina was sniffing all around like a mad-wolf, he sniffs at the body curiously first.. "Why hang up body?" he sniffs a bit closer.. shrugging a bit he looks at Balina.. sniffing up and around a bit more he walked slowly though he always kept an eye on the door of the building that.. though he shrugged a bit at the smell of death.. looking at Balina he sees if she smelt something.

"To hurt you," Sparhawk says gruffly while coming up alongside Inola. "Probably other reasons, but it was left here to make you despair. Because that's what the adversary eats."

"Magicbullshit" Balina blurts out, attention gradually shifting targets. She remembers herself well enough to not start clawing at the door, but she does stand with it at her side, lowering herself to try and bring the doorknob within Eithne's grasp. She's practically shaking from excitement, and gives a soft whine as she waits.

Grantok shivers a little at the sight alone, standing not too far from where Inola is. "Or uses as a source for power. Either way this reeks of a trap. Best be careful."

Eithne sighs, and kisses Bal's ears as she tentatively reaches out for the doorknob to open it for her mate and mount. "... Slowly, please, love? I don't want you waltzing into a trap because you want to find out what Shadow-stuff tastes like." The neko's free hand is coated in phoenix fire, bright and warming, as she prepares for anything hostile on the other side.

Heath is not too far behind Balina the second wolf waits.. waiting.. he is sniffing towards the house to catch the scent that Balina did.. to detect what was the goal and what was going to be taken care of.

The door handle was warm to begin with, Eithne twists it, and the door pops, slowly creaking its way open. Light from outside extending like a hand, uncovering first black boots, and then brown pant legs, stretching outward to grasp upward over him. The shiny metal of a sheriff’s badge reflects back as the light hits it. Then nothing, where the rest of the body should be, there's just a bloodstain on the ground. As the darkness is uncovered, light spreads over surfaces, and the darkness seems to almost bubble and writhe.

Crys strides forward, and takes her blade and swings at the metal wire holding the Elder's body up by its neck. One clean swipe brings it crashing to the ground. She is scrambling through her pouch, pulling out red prayer beads, and unhooks the water pouch at her waist, dumping it on the body.

Blood! Balina prepares to pounce, only barely remembering herself as she stands at the threshold. "Blood, dark, shadows, blood... Love, could you turn off the fire for just a moment? I think I need a few moments in the dark with the lack of a body."

Eithne hunkers down, sighing, and forces her flames to douse for a moment. "... I'm making it a public note I think this is a bad idea, but I'm going along with you anyway." A heartbeat, and then a second kiss to Balears. "... love you."

Heath grins a bit at the darkness.. "Don't think Balina have all the fun..." Leaving his mouth open a bit, tongue slides out to lick his chops..

Grantok remains in the yard, ears tilting about and sweeping for any sounds not from the group. Momentarily she looks in Inola and Sparhawk's direction before resuming ocular vigil on the exterior of the house.

"Think I saw this in a movie once..." Balina makes vague head gestures signalling Heath in. Immediately behind, she enters and hastily kicks the door shut with a back leg.

Sparhawk loiters out in the yard, watching macro-scale displays with a jaundiced eye. Grantok's got the building covered, so Spar watches the almost-storm and the burned area around.

Crystala pours the entire contents of the pouch over the corpse, chanting some sort of mantra to herself quietly, and closes the man's open eyes, though they are hard to do. The water clears off the flies in a swarm, as they take to the air. The water strikes the wound, and seeps inside the flesh. She eventually lifts it up into her arms and walks by Inola, "I'm going to take him somewhere to rest that isn't here. Is there anywhere his family would prefer?" Inola's response is distracted, her eyes watching Balina. "Bring him to Ash, he'll show you where to bring it."

Inside the door slams shut and with it the light. Windows don't seem to let any light in, and when the last spec of light blinks out with the door, the place is filled with utter silence. Balina and Heath can't even hear their own breathing or hearts. The only sensation is the pungent scent of blood, the smell of death, and that strong scent of corruption that fills the place, the one Balina is quite familiar with. And then there's the sound of dripping, breaking the silence, like something dropping from the ceiling to the floor.

Eithne glances around in the darkness, little paws gripping tightly into Bal's fur as she valiantly suppresses her fire, despite every instinct screaming to bring light to this darkness and find the source of the drip. Damn curiosity.

Heath being inside with Balina he sniffed around a bit.. blood... death.. corruption.. hearing nothing was worse than being in a tub of water, at least there you can hear your own heartbeat. His side was against Balina.. feeling his cold side near his ...

Balina smiles to herself in the darkness, and begins a proper investigation. Carefully nosing past Heath, she beelines for the blood itself. Little else matters, given she cannot actually look up quite yet. There's bound to be more than just the Shadow corruption, which is what really has her attention. Well, the part of her that isn't screaming and howling and ranting, anyway.

Balina's sniffling, finding her way past the body, to where the real scent is. The sound of dripping growing closer, and then her nose finds it, sniffing deeply, she feels something inching up her nostrils, almost as cold as she is.