The Great Boomba

lets build his villainy this thread and then we can kill him in a follow-up thread or two.  @Olive , and anyone else welcome as well.   Building up tp the boss fight thread

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It was good to be the biggest, it meant that you get to make all the rules.  Sliding up onto the shoreline, the the three ton behemoth of blubber stood proud claiming all that he could see.  Who else could even challenge him, these where his beaches now and he owned everything on it.  Landwalkers where small and puny, so they cant make the rules.  

His first rule, all food here is Boomba's food. 

Here would be a good spot to claim as his throne.  Worming his way onto his new throne, he looked over his kingdom to be... what would he see?
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Cold and shivering, Olive made her way westward, once again following the pull of the water. Truthfully, her travels had started out as a mere curiosity about the lands not so far north in the tundra, but the ones that lay still yet unexplored for her. Perhaps the itch to travel had gotten the best of her, and her gait became far too excited, because before she knew it the waif was glancing upon water. Here she followed the frigid coastline, allowing the endless mists to mat and salt her fur; because, simply, where else on earth could this happen besides the beach, striding in the surf?

There was relatively little that could stand in the way of the erosive lapping of the waves, and there was little in the way of landscape to look at. It was all flat, and frozen — but in the distance, it seemed there might be a boulder, or cliffside, that she could climb and at least get a good view. The water nymph squinted and trudged on towards the auburn mass with sudden determination.

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Dripping nostrils expanded and contracted, taking in the scent of a landwalker, a wolf. But this was Boomba's beach and he could simply not have this.

"How dare they enter Boomba's throne, a mighty smash will knock them prone" he rumbled, as the flesh around his neck jiggled, holding a putrid smile and furrowed brows. He couldn't help but say it out loud, but luckily he may still been out of earshot.

With that the behemoth slid from his rock into the dark water below. The great king Boomba lurked below waiting for the unaware girl to step to close to the waters edge.
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As she often did, the woman lost herself in her movement. Her mind melded with her body, and her thoughts became the movement of her legs. Her energy resonated with the bobbing of her head. Her tongue passively lolled out the side of her mouth as she trotted along, and her gaze slipped from the horizon and hung in a position that was far more natural; nose pointed down, looking at the ground several feet in front of her. In the case of beaches, she found she preferred to look at things with a close-up microscope rather than a grand sweeping gaze anyways. So, in this way, she walked along for some minutes.

The wind brushed against the fur on her back, causing her attention to once again gather and be directed outwards. The silvered fae glanced up, and everything looked exactly the same; so why couldn't she explain the sudden sinking of her stomach, and the locked-ness of her jaw? It was then that she realized, not all was the same. The boulder she had been traipsing directly towards — it was no longer there.

How could a giant rock just disappear without a sound?

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skippable

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Pearl was one of the many woman that Boomba had. Though the key difference is she had a 'refined' taste, and often enjoyed keeping other morsels as jackets, or decorations of sorts. Somewhere upon the claim of the walrus's does she hold many of the scavengers that dared cross to their territory, and being crushed by the Alpha Male of them all. There would the mighty male take their meat, and she, taking their furs. Even now upon her back was decorated with an artic fox's pelt, though clearly damaged and muddled through from the days of wear and tear and even mating. 

She watched him slip to the waters, huffing to the other females that there was something upsetting, and was left to gossip with them, as well as be amoured by Boomba and his might.

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Lurking underneath the blackness of the sea, boomba moved swiftly and silently. His size irrelevant.

How dare this tiny land Walker challenge boomba for his beach. This was Boomba's beach.

Seeing the vague outline of the woman on the shore above. Boomba for a moment lied in wait. Suddenly bursting from the water. Boomba Bes launched himself from the sea landing on the rock behind the tiny white wolf, pressing his chest into her, towering above her.

"A stupid whore, on Boomba's shore!" He bellowed, the putrid stench of rotting fish and seasludge escaping from his mouth.
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The entire world fell into an eerie, gray silence as Olive perceived something to be truly, dreadfully wrong. There had been the constant crowing and squawking of the gulls, which had since fallen silent. The landscape, it seemed almost to be moving; and if Olive squinted her eyes, she could see auburn bodies shifting, glinting against the harsh winterlight as if they were shale and rock itself, reminding her almost too much of the bison herds from the plains. There was something out there, a lot of them, and where Olive might have once felt curiosity, she only felt a true desire to leave (or, perhaps, investigate from afar)

— such deliberation was rendered useless as a gargantuan monster burst from the waters, ripping all breathe and thought from the woman's body, leaving a void that was immediately flooded with fear and confusion. It could only be described as a monster, as Olive had never before seen something so large, or so heinous, or so foul. She had seen ripe, dead bodies that had disgusted her less than this creature before her, bellowing and spitting and towering above her, so large and massive that it nearly blotted out the sun.

Her eyes, wide. Her mouth, agape. Her tail, tucked in primordial fear. The tiny, suddenly frail woman attempted to scuttle backwards, but the sudden rush of slime and seawater made the ice turn in to a slip, and she could find no more purchase than a newborn fawn, or a fish upon land, and she only managed to put a few feet between them — not that Olive realized what was happening at all; she was simply in awe at the might of the monster that had suddenly burst before her. She fully believed that she might, in this moment, die. She was powerless to do anything more about it.

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Boomba eyed down at her as if to re look her over. Taking an uncomfortable amount of time scanning her from head to toe, Undressing her with his eyes, slowly, lingering...

She cowered before Boomba, this was good, she knew her place!

"Hehehe.... this one has pretty coat, for this one's sake hope she float!"

Quickly advancing boomba jiggled forward, he would attempt to belly bounce the poor girl into the water. Boomba was strong, but still even stronger in the water.
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To Sindri's dismay, the lands had become quiet- stagnant. Time and time again she looked out to the Brim but saw none of her enemy when she tried. She was either looking at the wrong times or they were lying low. Good. For now, at least giving her two daughters who remained the peace they needed.

Today she strode out into the open tundra north of her mountains, along the coastal lining. Usually all was rather quiet savor the howling winds. Today however, it was not. The honks and roars of large fatty beasts stirred her attention and she thought she might come across the walrus in a battle of who's best.

Nope, today they placed their anger upon a wolf. One which apparently had gotten too close to their turf and with no backup what so ever. Maybe she was of the south, maybe she didn't know a thing about these great beasts. But as Sindri drew nearer and sniffed the air, then sniffed along her trail here, the huntress knew the other to smell familiar- that of Frostchant, that of a woman Ragnar once carried on his coat before from a hunt with their so-called allies.

Sindri had no means to try and save her. Didn't even call out and try to distract the walrus so she could break free. After all, Frostchant had not helped them in battle when they had needed it- unwilling to risk their few numbers even if it meant avenging the life of their ally's children. So Sindri instead turned and ran swift and sings out to the heavens for those to hear- a pretty thing of Frostchant is surely about to die.
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The thing; it lumbered towards her! The timbre of her heart lurched in kind, and the words spilled from her maw in a high-pitched, strangled cry. "Gods, no!" the sylph screamed, her body falling over itself, a tangle of sliding, uncoordinated limbs slipping upon ice. She didn't necessarily have thoughts as much as words that flashed through her mind, present for only a moment before it was replaced with some other horrible realization of her reality. Monster. Odious. Pain. Drowning. Overwhelm. Never having seen a walrus before, it was as if she had suddenly stumbled into hell's awning mouth and was confronted with the devil itself.

It writhed, moving surprisingly fast for a creature with no feasible wings or limbs. So large, it was able to move upon her in mere moments, obliterating even the sequence of words that had played in what small part of her brain continued to process information. "No, no—" she cried, devolving into hysterical tears, only able to reject the possibility that the backlit monster, nothing more than a darkened blob against the sky with two, long, white lances... and hoped that the Gods could hear her, and somehow save her from this. She, a devotee of everything sacred, didn't deserve this; but she couldn't imagine how, on earth, she could possibly be saved. "Please!"

She could not evade him, not with the pounding of her heart and the slick ice and the putrid water he sloughed off with every lunge forward. The fluttering dove was sent skittering across the ice, and she clutched at the sheer surface with every ounce of willpower and paw-strength she had, gritting her teeth together and bracing herself for the crash of frigid seawater. The crash, however, it never came; she slid but a foot too short, a realization which quickened her, and the silvered waif began her feeble attempts to get up, to drag herself away, to do literally anything.

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the fairylight had swept some well ways behind the scent of her palantír, ignorant to whatever petty war waged seabound in favor of perhaps seeking some manner of solace in whatever the spellsinger condescended to give; but now, with the aegis of her mountains at her frostback, with all that had been stoppered so desperately within her this fortnight past — everything rose to meet her as silverchased eyes snagged on the great horrible thing that heaved with all hideous intent to the second seer sent to her people.

she became ugly, uglier, then; no time, no breath to waste if only to spit at the retreating valkyrie; sotaherra arrows wildling for the vast rump of whatever this thing was. volatile, vicious; dark, heady killing rage dimming the edges of all she saw until everything she tasted was slick fur and blubber and tore and tore and tore until she felt red on her teeth and tongue and down her throat. she worried and whittled away, clambering up backside, clinging to this wheezing, huffing horror until ( knowing how open she leaves herself, even for a moment ) with a great blood-smeared roar to her petrified hauntress:

"away!"

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^^

let me know if tiberius has entered too soon. here to help save olive and maybe lose an ear/part of his tail along the way LMAO


He was straying further and further away from the immediate grounds that surrounded Shiroshika's borders. Whether it was to clear his head, be alone or to perhaps find someone worth his time to recruit, he couldn't say. Yet today was a day that he would be glad he had strayed as far as he had, because on the icy Tundra wind carried a scent that warmed his spine and another that made his nose twitch with familiarity but it was the third scent that had his golden depths narrowing in caution. It was no wolf scent, nor the scent of the familiar feline but it was prey. Prey that was also a predator, Tiberius noted. Whether it was his fondness for two and his favouritism of one or the protective instinct that roared to life that sent him springing forward across the snow, it didn't matter. All he knew was the scents on the wind and he swore he could hear the voices rattling on the wind.

The titan could not be sure as to where he stood with Olive or what they stood for but he knew even if they did not stand more, he thought highly and warmly of her -- he would come to her call even if she was not calling for him. The dainty fairy was there, too, her scent strong with Olive's and the beast that lingered and he wondered what kind of nightmare that they had found themselves living on this day. He did not often feel fear. Fear was something he had learned to both bury and hardly feel. Now, though, he felt it tingling at the edges of his subconscious. It pushed him further, quicker and with more intent as his molten gaze caught sight of the scene on the frozen ground.

Olive lay as the great beasts target, stopping short in her slide only a foot from the water. The water that could take her from him as easily as those tusks could. @Riannon had attacked the beast with everything she could, aiming to save her follower and Tiberius surged forward with a roar of her name, "@Olive!" In his throat his heart would beat, hammer like a war drum as he side-stepped Ri with a tentative touch of his tail to her flank, not having enough time to stop for a chat or game plan as he joined the fray, furious and unwilling to relent until the great beast was distracted and off of Olive's trail. They could give her time to get away and though he did not doubt Riannon's prowess, he would sooner her get Olive and escape whilst he kept the beast entertained. 

The tusks were long and Tiberius thought that they would be an easier part to evade so long as the walrus was not given a chance to rear up too far to snag one of them in his grip and so long as the beast did not move quickly -- with all that great fat, Tiberius doubted he could do anything overly fast -- he would launch his own attack. If he would manage to latch onto the meat of the Walrus' shoulder, Tiberius would feel just how thick the wall of flesh truly was, be it flubber or heaps of skin, he didn't know, but he did know it was thick and likely this was a fight that they would not win with just two of them. Regardless, the titan threw himself into the all of it and would aim to distract the Walrus with Ri and grab at his shoulder.

He had thought that perhaps the top near the skull would be an easier place to sink his teeth into but for the moment whilst Olive was still in range of the beasts tusks and flubber, Tiberius would do as he already was. ^^

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Boombas belly bounce had not been enough to send his victim into the black frigid abyss. Rage filling his face at her defiance, the great Boomba chortled, screaming a gurgling honk, blubber jiggling.

"Into the water crone! Boomba takes you to his throne!"

Then suddenly, from the rear a sharp pain! Boomba turned to see a puny landwalker soaked in his blood. The damage was nothing compared to a duel with another male, or even the damage he might take keeping his woman in line.

Then another, like a rocket another slightly larger dark, puny landwalker, latched to his shoulder, tearing away more and more, thrashing. Now this was starting to get uncomfortable. Such weak creatures, that they had to work together. Why couldn't they have honor and fight boomba alone.

"You dare to give Boomba a thrash! With my tail a mighty smash!"

With his cry of dominance, boomba thrashed at the shoulder, trying to throw the titian off, in the same motion he raised a 1000 pounds of tail, attempting to smash it down on his first attacker. The force would be enough to deal with this woman! If not shatter the ice they stood on.
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Now, the monstrosity was between her and the mainland. Her back was mere inches away from the vast, great abyss of the ocean; there was no beach here, only the end of ice and the beginning of dark, watery nothingness. If there had been a sliver of hope before, it was now gone completely. This isn't good, she thought to herself with a macabre, misplaced sense of humor at her own imminent mortality. But, if she were to die, how else would she want to go out, other than laughing?

The beast lumbered towards her, looking much like a grub that wriggled in the dirt, but a thousand time larger and infinitely more dangerous. In a cruel twist, she realized the only other fates that might be worse than death: being taken prisoner, and that others would lay their life on the line for her. Breath caught in her throat, the prostrate woman only realized this with disgust in the rhythmical bellowing of the sea monster (crone, really?), and with horror as she espied the slight, willow-like form of Riannon. Her face fell dramatically, where it (for a moment) held a lightness and acceptance of her path. "No, don't die for me!" the pale woman cried, shivering and drenched, blinking the stinging salt water away from her eyes and trying to regulate her breath in between the sputtering of words. "Your children—"

There was but a moment to spare for the spellsinger to stand on her feet, somehow able to find grip and stability; but the beast's roaring was deafening, and the way he moved, even just to turn his head 'round to see what plagued him from the rear, threw vibrations across the ice big enough to throw her down and overwhelm her senses, entirely. She didn't want to die, but she didn't not want to die, but she sure as hell didn't want Ri to die for her. Olive was at an impasse, until there was a flash of black fur upon brown, and a deep, rumbling voice called out her name. "Tiberius!" the woman cried back, thankful for him to be here, but dreading his appearance the same. Two, even three, weren't enough to take on this great monstrous, odious beast! The fools were going to die for her, weren't they?!

Olive, suddenly finding movement in her body, rushed to leap clear of the walrus, believing falsely the back-end to be the safer route — but instead the tail threw itself high and came down upon the ice, and possibly another. Grounded and with ears pinned back in dread, she watched as a large crack split the ice. Without being connected to the larger sheet, the fractionated piece dipped down under the weight atop it; the sea water rushed in, lifting her up with ease, and pulled her out to open water.

Without the solidity of ice beneath her, Olive splashed wildly and began to panic.

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quick reply before work, feel free to assume afterwards that she's heading her way back towards land with olive in tow – i'll try to keep up tonight on my breaks

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 she'd always been foolish; just as tiberius had always been so dark and towering over everything as he was now here, wrenching hateful at the great beast's head with all his might. there was not any acknowledgement that she could spare before the odious thing rose like hulking drab-brown landtide. the feé feints aside, hideous and hopeful, winding, reeling to rejoin already;
 the scream of ice beneath the warring trio;
 and so undersea she too went.
 it is dark.
 cold.
 but the breath in her lungs is hot, and she breaches choppy iceland waters with a deep, suckling and ragged bellow; soon takes notice of the flailing, gasping olive and moves before she knows what other dangers might lurk in the depths;
 ( knows and cares not – )
 works as swift-straggling her way as she is able all the same, fangs grit and grinding, pale bloodied nose flaring with the labor of it and the vestiges of killing rage not yet lifted.
 she reaches her, reaches for her; dipping, slinging the waif 'round thin shoulders like a weighted stole. and though the additional heft of her slight figure upon her own might do more harm than good, the sotaherra presses onward to where sea lashes land.

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Watching with a sick sense of pride at the ice cracking. "Boombas weight is really great! With the cold splash you have a date!", He laughed chortling. It was no sweat for him, they where even more in his element now.

As the ice broke beneath him, he spread a rotten smile as he was plunged into the abyss below. While cumbersome on land, now boomba was like a gracefully dancer in the water.

One of the land walkers was getting away with his prize! It was boomba's prize. Her pretty coat was his! Boomba found her on Boomba's beach so she was Boomba's!

Eyes glowing red with hate boomba surfaced. "How dare you take Boomba's pretty prize. Still you fight despite your size!" ,his voice seeming vibrating the water.

Boomba darted towards the two white wolves, breeching his weight on them with a massive splash. In the chaos he would attempt to seize Olive, and drag her away. She was Boomba's after all.
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As the woman were gossiping, it seemed as wolves were starting to enter the land. There was noises by them, growing upset that these land-dwellers were starting to form more and more into their land — and especially, irritating their mate. There was a mutual discussion, how he could handle it.. But Pearl, taking upon herself as a self-proclaimed 'Matriarch,' amongst the ladies, couldn't stand the insolence and started to follow through. 

She dare not to touch the prize that Boomba so wanted. Such a pretty pelt, would've been a good coat for Pearl.. But she would be satisfied with the other clinging onto that prize, a light silver.. Oh, and yet the black one would due well with stains!

Into the water did the beastly woman swam, she was distanced away from Boomba and debated which one to tackle for, but also if the Lord would even let her either, or he wanted them all.

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There was a sound that resounded in the arctic, the howling of calling for allies.. Wolves she did not know of and yet felt a pulling, even if it wasn't her business as a loner of these wilds. It sounded like one of plea and needing of savings and it was hard, for Uriel to just turn away for such a calling, that without noticed her golden body was already racing toward the frozen grounds, where she remembered a familiar castle hanging within a distance.. A thought occurred something happened with them and yet the crying and sounds in the distance were not in the same direction.

Paws sliding upon the ice could she see that of a Walrus fest in the distance, and wolves scrambling in but a horror. Beneath did the ice crackle, her ears flickering to the sound as if it was akin to glaciers itself but just the ferocity of an angry beast — one that brought her paws to a standstill in a fear, for they were fighting one of them..

And brought questions, what could she do?

Cowardness all that there was, a deny and calling for help brought a courage, and a dive toward the frey. A dive went to his direction of slaughter and fray, onto the wild Walrus that swam to the lights in the water. She vaguely recognized a black dart though within the same wake, and thought for a moment it could not be ; but alas, she already made her move to try and chomp at Boomba in the water.

Though even Uriel knew, it was a reckless, and even deadly move to those who can dance within the waters below.

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All of her senses were overwhelmed with the environment around her. The water was a level of oppressive cold, the likes of which she had never felt before. It was all over — under her fur, between her toes, in her ears, in her eyes, and even as much as it hurt and stung, she could barely feel it for the fear the coursed white-hot through her veins. In her mind, this battle had been well lost the moment the beast had burst from the ice. She cursed a world that would allow this to happen, that would slicken the ice so that predator became prey; and one of such virtue! Was this truly the karma she had she had wagered for; purchased with the accrued life of a pious devotee? She had suffered so much in her lifetime, only to go out like this?

As unfair as it was, there was no fighting it. Not with the water, everywhere, threatening to pull her down. Not with the weight of Riannon upon her, which felt more like an anchor than a lifeline. Not with the tiring of her limbs, which had been chaotically trying (and failing) to wrest her from this situation for far too long. There was no fighting it, when she knew that her sotaherra would be dead, and Tiberius dead too. Olive, who had never been much of a fighter at any point in her life, couldn't understand how she would want her life to go on anyways, now that it had been shattered so.

Still, the reptilian part of her brain still sputtered and strived epically towards the preservation of its life. Her legs lashed, though they burned as she did so. Her voice cried out for help, though the water choked her. Her teeth gnashed at whatever she could find, though they never found purchase. and when she felt something grab her leg and pull her under, she fought and fought and fought. The woman screamed in a cloud of bubbles, entirely uninterested in regulating the amount of oxygen that she held within her lungs. It didn't matter. This was bullshit.

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^^Most commonly the bard rarely left Frostchant. It didn't serve him much to wander, not when what he aimed to serve was there. But he was prone to restless ways and the distressed call had found him on the rare occasion he was outside the reach of their keep. A pretty thing - and he could only imagine one, no matter how ethereal Olive was. No matter how in other lives their fates had twined and tangled.

Perhaps it was something else orchestred by the humored gods themselves, casting the child of one of the children of Olive's Banríon into orbit and on course to crash into the tangled fray. What he arrived to see was chaos. All chaos. A darker male - and in the water, Riannon and Olive both, and a walrus. He'd never been too fond of them on a normal basis, but this was different. This was a threat not only to Frostchant, but, to his personal interests.

He liked to think he was a nice guy, but, at the end of the day he knew his motives weren't pure. He crossed the ice with a roar of a howl, heading into the fray teeth and claws first.^^

— he is just arriving, feel free to pp him and smack me if I take too long xD

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^^ It all happened too quickly. Tiberius saw red when he heard the Walrus speak of Olive the way he had, insinuating that she was anyone other than his. He snarled, furious and spitting with his rage as saliva swung from his angry teeth. The fairy had failed to get a grip on Olive with the way the Walrus threw his weight and briefly, the titan noticed a body of gold joining the fray and only one wolf he could think of was coloured so; Treasure. Another joined but Tiberius didn't know them and paid them no attention, though appreciated his attempt to help despite it being futile. Olive was out of reach and he would sign his and her death warrant if he jumped in. He couldn't help her if he was fucking dead. Fuck. FUCK. Tiberius made a split decision to scrape his form along the broken edges of the ice and aimed to grab Riannon's scruff between his jaws, trying to yank her away from following Olive into the icy depths. The Walrus clearly wanted her alive, he thought angrily.

 She was alive. She was likely suffering but she was alive and the titan felt his fury ripple at his skin as he, assuming Riannon didn't escape his hold, deposited her safely and turned his gaze to Treasure. "Git back," he demanded as he stood on the swaying ice from where the Walrus had rocked it with his departing weight. His departure that took Olive with him and away from Tiberius. He heaved a heavy breath as he roared her name to the water, "OLIVE!" His claws dug into the ice as his muscles twitched and flinched with strain and fury. "I'll fucken kill ya!" He snarled to the Walrus, "this ain't fucken over. Ya 'ear me ya fucken' bastard?" Tiberius didn't care if the Walrus could or not, if he did -- great, he would know he wouldn't be keeping Olive. If he didn't, Tiberius was releasing his fury. "Touch 'er, damage 'er an' I'll be linin' 'er fucken bed wit'ya skin!" His molten gaze swirled with blazing fires, thick and bright as he spun off the ice and towards where land grew thicker.

 "Fuck, fuck," he threw his head to the side as he snarled, grappling the ground with his claws as he felt his breathing grow irratic. "This ain't fuckin' over." The titan spat, drawing his head up and he stared out to the water. "I's goin' ta kill 'im. D'ya understand, yeah? We gettin' 'er back but i's makin' tha fuckin' killin' blow." And he dared any of them to take it from him. The way the blubber beast had taken Olive. ^^

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Boomba flees with Olive beneith the dark water.

All is quiet.

I'll leave this thread open for plotting, and RP. I will open a new one with Olive and boomba soon.

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Yet her pursuit was not met except for the cold embrace of the water. It shocked her core as it broke into her furs guard — it was not something she enjoyed, especially frantically looking around to the chaos ahead. Many wolves diving into the same area, same place, desiring the same results as they all tried to find her. As a beast, swam faster then any could move within these waters, and another, unknowingly approaching.

But all was in vain as it took the girl deep to the waters, and swam away, somewhere they don't know. Though Uriel had confidence, the girl was alive. A walrus wouldn't just take their prey away, no, they would already have killed it. Her screaming, her cries to the world itself were told to all that she was well alive, and well able, to be saved. But what purpose would the beast need for such a wolf? To keep her alive?

She scurried to the edge and hoisted herself out of the water, a doggy shake for the damp cold. An obvious shiver overtook Uriel, but she was at the edge, awaiting to help anyone else out of it's waters.

"..We can save her," the woman reassured, her voice to the group of strangers though vaguely recognized Tiberius, a strange man of strange emotions. Whenever she saw him he was full of turmoils, and wonder what Gods brought bad luck to him?

"If he wanted to she would have not been alive this far, he has her alive." So she declared her hypothesis, to any wary souls that did not believe in her first words. She wanted to give a hope, to the strange light woman was surely alive, and resting somewhere with the beasts. They would find her, they would help.

And Uriel wasn't sure, why she was so determined to help a stranger. However if she was in that situation, she would hope someone would do the same.

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Pearl was under, eyeing the pretty wolves scramble into an unknown territory. They could not swim like them, only above in series of cute paddles that brought no speed, and only a smirk from her. An eyeing who to take, who would be the newest coat? But alas it seemed she would not pick and choose on this day, as Boomba wretched the girl to the waters abyss and took hold of her.

She followed, not before flipping a tail into the surface — an acknowledgement.. She was there.

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"that is the second time my people have lost their palantír — farseer," the nightingale grit out, only staring into the hateful black that had ensnared her willowisp. "without one, we are blind to our own path. blind and stumbling." looks longside to the vanguard who had promptly plucked her; how blind she had been, rash and reaching even as he fanged her scruff, even as the rush left her winded and thoughtless and somewhat faint to the tear down her silver shoulder that bled dribbly and unchecked. in any other setting, she might have asked after @Tiberius' wellbeing. ...but it is not.

and a glint of gold catches her lone eye, anyways; remaining where she lies on fractured ice, listening to the gilded stranger pluck harpstring hope at retrieving their collective ward; wincing with the unsteady gather of her paws beneath her when she finally chooses to rise. with a distracted look for @Eira, she seems to be willing enough to let her fatigue join the cold in her bones — until something heavy and soil-brown lifts from the choppy waters.

it is taunt. taunt and insult.

tusk-wound ignored, reason sound enough to appease her forgotten; the sotaherra moves in a death-march to answer answer answer the cry in her blood to reward herself with another's; the vestiges of her righteous fury frayed even though she feels faint. yet she is foolish and as blind as she'd decreed — running back to the water she'd only just been retrieved from herself.

knows, and does not care, will not care;
so without her tribe's bottler of dreams.

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