WHAT THE WATER GAVE ME / OPEN - MURDER

After Lottie had attacked Jersey, been released from Alastor's hold on her emotions, she had fled. How could she not? There was guilt, icy upon her heart, and the warm crimson of Jersey's blood still on her claws that was an eerie feeling to her. There were tears that stung her eyes, and she found her legs shaking even as she made her way out of camp, with no real destination in mind. She was running away- getting some time to herself, to forgive her own doings, to work her mind around what her own husband had made her do. Hurt someone she thought of as family, hurt someone she had sworn to protect, to take care of, to make him doubt her, when there was nothing that she could have done to control herself, when she never meant to do what she had. She wasn't paying attention, her mind clouded by guilt, and confusion, and the ache of a headache in the back of her skull that had been her token from the event.

This was all her fault. She hurt Jersey. She had scared the people around her- she'd be lucky if Jersey even forgave her, could look at her again. And what of Alastor? How could her own husband do something like that?!

Her breath was unsteady as tears clouded her vision, her pace slowing from the jog that she had departed with into a slow trudge across the territory. Her paw ached where Jersey had bit her, but she thought it was the very least she deserved. She had done more damage to him, and somehow, a tiny bite on the paw didn't seem a fitting punishment. She was completely unaware, however, that a bigger punishment was yet to come from Paracosmic.

Iselotta had made a fatal error. It was so funny to consider how often she put herself out there to try and help others; her life was dedicated to healing, her subconcious always alert for signs of danger or people who needed help, yet in a moment where she hadn't even been herself, manipulated into attacking someone she loved, she had blinded those senses in her own misery and grief, and that cold storm cloud that hung over her was her death sentence. She didn't hear Paracosmic behind her, her secondary error. Her first error being her lack of awareness of the situation around her. Her paws ached, her chest heaved with unsteady breaths from her sprinted jog out of the area, and her previous energy spent trying to fight Jersey and the people who tried to hold her back when she hadn't been in control.

Her head lifted to view the scenery in front of her. She was at one of her favorite places; a quiet, secluded corner of the forest near the river, where you could hear the birds and the gentle rush of water over the rocks, dappled with the summer sun beneath the tall canopy's of trees. She took in a deep breath, to try and steady her breathing, and then, like a flicker of her vision, she found herself suddenly on the ground. She squeaked in surprise as the wind was forced from her lungs, but no further sound was made as Para closed his jaws around her throat, making her eyes go wide as she struggled beneath him, trying to throw him off, to get enough release on her throat to breathe again. The adrenaline that had rushed through her before was back, but as a cold grip of fear as her mind tried to catch up with what just happened as she reacted out of instinct. Tears watered in her eyes as she felt the sharp claws slowly sink beneath her thick fur and into her person, the claws digging in where they had landed and sprouting crimson blood in its wake. She would have screamed had she had the oxygen in her lungs to do so, but instead she thrashed, trying to lessen the pain she felt as she struggled to take a breath in, panic setting in above all else: she wasn't really a fighter. She didn't know what to do. Her mind was screaming at her to breathe as her thrashing only made her desperation for air even worse, the edges of her vision fogging as Paracosmic had cut off the vital link of blood to her brain and air into her lungs. It would be likely, perhaps even fortunate for the leopard, that'd she would pass out before Paracosmic made a meal out of her.

Ironically, though, despite all her time as a Medic, she didn't know how to save herself.

/replies might be a little more delayed now! We're going to a dinner and a show in a min

It was funny how a big animal like her couldn't even budge her attacker. It made her feel small, and weak, and useless- pathetic. How pathetic it was that she had cared so much, so, so, so much for people that it was now her downfall. Yet, she couldn't find any regret in her heart. She regretted hurting Jersey, she regretted not being alert enough to save herself, yet... There was a sort of peace. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen. Even as he slammed a heavy blow into her stomach and rid her lungs of any last trace of air, making her vision swim as her body threatened unconsciousness, begging her to breathe, begging, and begging, yet unable to gasp in a single wisp of breathe to help her. The panic flared again as the shock spread through her, coupled with the desperation for air. The claws dug in deeper, warning her, and the jolt of pain only made the burning sensation spreading through her body even worse. It was like a wildfire, spreading from her throat, into her chest, and down through every other nerve in her body.

Her struggling became weaker, not only from the shock, and though a gentle pair of gray eyes flickered up as the scalpel appeared in the air, the silvery-metal of it catching in the light, her desperation was ebbing away. She was slowly resigning herself to her fate. Perhaps it was because her children hadn't crossed her mind- they were safe back at camp, why would she worry about them when she was dying? Well, they were there in her mind, but her consciousness had locked those thoughts away to spare her. Air. She just needed air. Then she could go back home, right? See Louis and Desirae. Tell them she loved them so much. Maybe someone would find her before then, wouldn't that be nice? Thoughts flooded her mind, with no connection, no correlation, her body shutting down to spare her the trauma. Her head was drooping to the floor as her vision began to fade into black, her eyes starting to shut as Paracosmic's voice broke into her mind- she was always so weak against mental invasion.

Let's begin.

Yet, she had slipped into unconsciousness before the blade fell.

Something was wrong. It was so strong this time, so horribly pungent that he couldn't focus on anything else. He knew that whatever had happened was awful and he probably wasn't going to be able to help. Still, as awful as it was, he hoped it was someone he didn't know. He was running towards the scene as quickly as he was able to, which wasn't particularly fast given the nerve damage in his leg. Still, the horse would arrive soon enough and soon he wished he hadn't.

Jacob's face would shift to one of horror and then to great grief. "Lottie..." He whispered her name, tears building in his eyes as he looked at her suspended body. "I should have saved you," He would have been here sooner. He should have been able to pick up a scent more than Blood and the gentle, comforting, fading scent of Iselotta. He didn't know what he would have done if he'd arrived before it happened but at least it would have been better than doing nothing at all. Tears tracked down the boy's face and now that the shock was wearing off, panic was taking over. His breathing became erratic, as it often did when he was panicking. His entire body began to shake and he felt like he could smell smoke in the air. First Witchy and now Lottie. Why couldn't he save any of the people he cared about? They were his friends, it was his responsibility so why did he fail at it so often? He couldn't even save Harrison, who he had known was dying from the beginning. His face grew hot and a sob rose from his body. He needed to yell for help. He needed someone. He needed to do something but he felt frozen. How could he call someone here when there wasn't a way to help and he was just leading them to an unimaginable horror? "Oh, Lottie, Miss Lottie," He barely chocked her name out now as he had to turn away, squeezing his eyes shut and sobs and hiccups rising from him more rapidly. He wanted so much for her to just appear in front of him, unharmed, and telling him not to cry. That she was right here and she was going to fix it but this time there was nothing any of them could fix and Lottie wasn't here to make it all better.

*:･ﾟ✦ Murder. Murder and death. Death, and murder. It seemed like wherever Hennessy went, the two followed. First it was his mother, stolen, swiped from his life like the locket he pickpocketed from her when he was younger. He could recall the day that his mama had died from the moment he awoke to the second he fell into a fitful sleep.

Mama had been making some tea for him that morning, the sick-day specialty. She had come back from her scouting, and Hennessy should have kept her in the cave they nested in for the night if he had known what was to happen just a few hours later. The image was rife with blood in his mind, an eerily similar comparison to the body of the female before him. Vang Winzor had been murdered when she was fixing him another cup of tea. She was killed with a dagger through the heart. It was his tea that cost his mama her life.

What cost Lottie's life? Observing the horror and grief that struck through the air and the recipients that knew the leopard, she was clearly seen as a good friend. Hennessy would have listed her as a good friend too, since she was kind to him when he played with her, the substitute of his mother. Substitute. That wasn't the right word. Lottie was a mother, and presumably a good one too. She was just as good a mother as his own was. They died so... similarly. It was as if history came back to bite him once more.

In his silent contemplation, the lilac and grey kitten found his face wet with hot, sticky tears. He was not only crying for the woman before him, whose life was stolen from her like a locket off her vanity, but he was crying for his mother, too. The tears that fell were ones he refused to let out since his mama was murdered. They were shared between the mothers that were murdered in his little life. Good mothers, at that.

"Speech."

Blood. The smell was all too familiar these days, unfortunately. With all of the malicious members throughout the clans, there was no escaping getting hurt or even getting killed. Witchcraft had been recently murdered with only half of a body that could be salvaged. It was sickening, and Jerseyboy could admit that. What he found could only be described as appalling. He saw Pierce first, and then Jacob, and then-

Oh dear Jesus.

The elegant snow leopard had been impaled, cut open, and left to die. Was it even possible to put his emotions into words? His heart was racing at a hundred miles an hour, his eyes narrowing in realization. Lottie was murdered. Gone. Not her, not her. What happened a few days ago was a result of manipulation, and he understood that it wasn't her fault. Lottie never meant to hurt him. She was like an aunt to him, someone important to him, and now she was dead.

They all leave.

Vang, Nayomi, Mama. So, this had been Lottie's fate? To go so young, just like the others? God, who was going to be next? Jerseyboy couldn't believe this. He couldn't look at it any longer, he couldn't. He felt nauseous and sick to his stomach. His breathing hitched and he stared at the ground, a few huffs escaping his maw. "Jake, who...?" Who did this? "I'm.. I'm gonna fuckin' kill that bastard. I'm gonna rip 'em to shreds, I'm gonna.."

What was he to do?

Alas, there was no evidence. No scent, no fur, no nothing. It was frustrating to no end. That's how it happened with the rest of them; there was no evidence and then they weren't seen ever again. There would be no justice for Lottie. Jerseyboy's words trailed off and he was left feeling utterly helpless. His paws trembled and he wheezed, as if he were about to overflow with tears. The tears never came. Everything just felt numb.