BLUE JAYS SINGING — collapse of bridge

the trip back is noisy, the chit-chat of those falling in step behind her nothing more than a tuneless song in her ears. lights of all colors-- blues, purples, reds, yellows, greens-- dance across her pelt and the snow stretched out before her and the woman knows without a backward glance that her friends and family are speaking excitedly to their wisps, trying to encourage their bond to grow. dont get her wrong she's happy for them, their eagerness is charming. in fact, it almost puts a smile on her face but the ceremony has been bittersweet. she has watched good friends like skylines get their wisp but then good people like destrian, her own son, didn't receive theirs. the ceremony puts doubt and anger on her conscience and in her mind, twists her thoughts into red puddles of gunk and fury. doubt towards her son's loyalty, doubt towards the spirits holed up in that godforsaken tree and then anger towards their decision, anger towards the spiritual companion that never came pound questions and cries within her skull. it's a distraction from the excitement fizzing around her.

it's a distraction from the disaster laid out before her.

the weathered bridge that connects the eastern and western territories has been buried beneath mounds of frost and ice but the woman pays it no mind immediately, fires lapping at her toes and pelt as she struts toward the overpass. "I've got this." she'll burn the snow down and be done with it, then everyone can go home and put tonight's excitements and tragedies to rest. but chica hardly takes a few steps onto the bridge before a loud creak of worn wood hits her ears. the connection isn't instant and the huntress slows considerably as lilac-toned orbs flick toward those dwelling behind her. the groans sound again, louder than before, and someone-- or a few someones, she doesn't know for sure-- places their paws on the bridge and it abruptly starts to tilt, imbalanced. alarm plunges her nerves into shock and fury and god forbid, fear, as she reels backwards into those behind her, "holy fuck, get back, get back!" the words are mere snarls in her throat as she pushes and jabs the sanctuarians frantically back toward the gardens. somebody finally seems to realize whats happening and just like that, the crowd plunges backward and she falls against the snow, safe. she can hear the overpass fall away over the beating of her heart, a voluminous crack of old wood and angry winds, then the inevitable crash as it tumbles down into the icy gorge situated below. denial hits her instantly. this isnt real, this isnt fucking real, but it is. no matter her vehement thoughts, it is. round-eyed, chica pulls herself up to her feet, gaze searching the crowd, "is everyone okay?"

/the sanctuary is now separated entirely from the camp! the weather will worsen, there'll be a searching party for a new camp in the existing territory, a mini-oneshot contest and of course, the blizzard. keep tabs on the plot in the ooc board!

her eyes sweep over the hushed faces and lock onto the horrified gaze of tequilanight. it's a look the mother could have done without seeing, honest to god. through the shock of the scare, pain surfaces, blossoms across her chest, and she shifts toward her daughter, arm outstretched as if she hopes to yank her into her arms and quiet down the rampant fear no doubt grazing her young one's mind. but then saeran speaks, his words knives that promise to dig deep under her skin, and her hand falters.

just like that, anger bursts at the tips of her brain's wires, like mercury in a thermometer. blame it on her pregnancy if one dares, on the mood swings that come with the process, but any acquaintance of chica ought to know that her state, though perhaps enhancing it, is not the cause behind her bad temper. the woman whips right around on her heel to face him, her lips pulling back into a vexed, smoking, snarl, "ya know what, saeran? i can fucking do without the sarcastic commentary right now so how bout you hop off my fucking dick while i figure this out, thanks." snap, crackle, pop. she gets it, he's upset and he's got reason to be, but she'll be damned if she lets him turn his anger on her or anyone else over something that literally nobody saw coming. ruby hues bore into his a moment longer before falling away, back toward the bridge-- or, what formerly was the bridge and then she eyes the weather, the time of day. the sun is long gone and the snow still falls freely and heavily. soon enough, everyone's gonna be seeing white. this isn't a situation they can solve-- not right now. everyone at camp'll be fine, anyway. their main focus is to get the fuck out of this weather. "we're gonna have ta find a way back tomorrow. righ' now, we need to camp out. everyone, head towards the southern territory. it's got enough cover ta protect us from this fuckin' shitstorm." or, so she hopes. the ferals out there haven't been a thorn in the sanctuary's side for the longest time and what are the odds of them coming out in this weather, anyhow?

a plume of fur swishes over the side of her leg and the heat from it is inviting. with no immediate challenges surfacing at her decision, she figures it's a done deal and the plan is a go. thank god for that. a smokey puff of air diddles past thin lips and her leaning figure bends into the curve of her girlfriend, molding the heat of their bodies together and steering her off toward their destination with lilac attentions dancing behind her to note those who follow.