World of Darkness World of Darkness: Attrition - Come into my parlor... [Complete]

[SalmonMax]

Ariel squats down.

"Morgan and I can lift him up onto you," she says thickly. "At least until he heals."

She swallows.

"He -will- heal, right? Def Int showed me how fast werewolves heal, but...this is a lot worse than anything..."

The policewoman lets that trail off, then beckons Morgan over. "Go ahead and change. We'll get him up onto you, and I'll make sure the coast's clear."

[Astra D.]

Oh, god... Oh, no, no, no, this can't be happening, this can't really be happening Morgan told herself, repeating the mantra over and over as she walked haltingly toward the carnage near the sewer grate. There was too much blood... It couldn't be real, could it? Of course not, because if it was real, that would mean Declan...

Her hand slapped against her mouth, muffling the moan of shock and disbelief that wavered threateningly on the edge of becoming a full-fledged shriek. The pounding in her chest almost doubled in its intensity, sending her pulse racing and her breath coming in short, rapid inhalations through her nose. Tears welled up in her eyes- tears of pity, of horror, of remorse- and spilled down her cheeks in streams.

That he was still alive was either a miracle, or a tragedy, and Morgan choked back the screams and sobs that twisted her abdomen, doubling her over in abject misery. Looking at his twisted, shattered body, shrunken now to human form and all the more vulnerable for it, she couldn't tell which. She managed to nod in Amber's direction, and then Ariel's, trembling like mad as she approached the fallen werewolf alongside the policewoman.

[z-Amber Wren]

Another flex of an unseen muscle, and the massive woman became a massive wolf. The supernatural animal crouched as low to the ground as it could, head turned so that one golden eye could keep a sharp watch on the small humans moving around it. She didn't mean for her gaze to be so sharp, but concern for her friend was foremost on her mind.

The other two women reached for him, but Declan snarled at them, waving them back. Amber shook her head when they looked at her; she tried to say, "Let him try," but it came out in the discordant rumbling of First Tongue. But the Rahu were clear enough; Declan would move himself... if he could.

His arms worked fine. Declan looped one over her back and grabbed a large fistful of fur. Amber ground her sharp teeth against the pain; it was nothing, in the grand scheme of things. It was nothing, compared to Declan's pain.

Amber could hear the soft sounds of pain he was hiding, but only because he was now hugging her, his body pressed to hers. His first pull nearly took him over her back; someone gasped but he caught himself. Breathing hoarsely through his clenched teeth, he leaned to each side and draped a useless leg on other side of her body. Then he leaned forward into her back, holding tight, being as quiet as he could despite the discomfort.

Carefully and with all four legs at once, the Uratha rose. Declan stayed in place, his arms occasionally tensing as he adjusted slightly. She waited for Morgan or Ariel to scout ahead and give her the all-clear. She could feel his blood seeping into her back and it was one of the worst sensations she'd ever experienced. He'd live, she was sure, but the sooner they got him back, the better.

[SalmonMax]

"Oh you have to be..."

It was probably the most lame ass self-flagellating examples of brain-retardant machismo she'd ever seen...but it was also almost as mind-boggling as the spider itself had been. In spite of being half paralyzed, almost =ripped in two=, this man somehow managed to haul himself up onto a giant wolf's back.

There was a lecture in this about humility and not making a bad situation worse...but Ariel wasn't the one to give it.

She just nodded and said, "Morgan...keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't slip off. I'll go ahead."

Then she breaks into a jog, searching through the campus for signs of anyone attracted by the noise...or just wandering through the wrong part of town at the wrong time. When she sees it's clear, she returns just in sight, and waves her arm towards herself, beckoning Amber, Morgan, and their tattered cargo forward.

[Astra D.]

"Mhmm," she mumbled tearfully against the back of her hand, coughing as Ariel directed her to keep an eye on the fallen warrior. Hyperventilation wasn't an immediate threat, but she had a good idea that she'd probably pass out as soon as things settled down. She'd seen plenty of horror movies, some of which were compellingly realistic, but even the goriest, most blood-drenched special effects extravaganza was a pale shadow of what she'd seen tonight.

It's like looking at an upside-down autopsy, she thought madly, and under any other circumstances she'd have been giggling her head off at the impossibility of the situation. Between the spider-thing, a variety of wolf-things, the sheer volume of gore and viscera, and the mangled body of a man she considered her friend, she had just about reached her limit of insanity for the evening.

Reluctantly, she stayed close to the massive Amber-wolf and her passenger, hoping she could move in time if he did begin to slip.

[Owns-The-Night]

He was aware of the night-time air on his skin. He was aware of the coarse fur of his friend underneath him. He could smell Amber's scent all around him, and it was comforting. He drifted in and out, now and then being jerked awake by a jolt of pain through his lower back. Each time that happened, a growl that was part whimper would be pressed from his lungs.

He could hear Morgan's ragged breathing on the side of Amber that currently lay behind his head. He wanted to turn and look at her, but knew that all that was keeping him on Amber's back was the death-grip he held onto her with. He licked his bloody lips, then spat. His own vital essence was foully mixed with the putrid liquids that the spider-demon had in place of blood. He heard Morgan's breath catch at his growl and wanted to tell her it was alright... But he felt so tired. He closed his eyes for a moment...

And snapped them open as he felt himself start to slide and heard Morgan's quick intake of breath. Straining, he held tight to the slow-moving Dire Wolf's fur, keeping himself atop her back. He did not feel it, but Morgan's hand was on his right leg pushing it back into position.

He was only barely aware of the journey other than these snippets of input. He heard a door open, smelled the familiar scents of home. Safety. Refuge. He heard Ariel's voice, crisp and efficient on the surface with an undertone of worry as she directed Morgan to do something. It was important, he knew. But he could not make out the details: they were as foggy illusions. He heard Morgan's murmured reply, then felt strong female hands grasp his shoulders.

"...two... three... and lift!"

Fire ripped up his back and into his head, and Declan passed out with a strangled cry.