Alright, they were screaming and not happy and only concerned with themselves. Perfect. Time to go.
Alfred began climbing, grasping at saplings. He was reminded absurdly of his younger days when he’d climb for no reason, except now, now his life depended on it. Alfred listened intensely, but the birds still seemed fairly distracted by his last onslaught. He climbed awkwardly, his middle, ring, and pinky fingers on his right hand devoted to holding the sword, thumb and forefinger gripping where they could. This was hard, really hard, but, but he didn’t have to go that far, not as far as the cliffs, just, like fifty feet up!
Alfred was suddenly aware of a lack of noise, and turned to see the birds studying him, large black eyes staring up at him intensely. He quickly wiped the sword on the mess of bloody cloth and flesh, renewing its poison. Yet, they did not strike, and not one to waste good fortune, Alfred quickly climbed the last ten feet to the top of the nest, and tossed himself over the edge with a strangled gasp, climbing down even faster than before. He was so close to freedom he could taste it! The thorns and brambles cut into his hands, but he couldn’t focus on that right now, he had to focus on keeping his left shoe on and descending as fast as he possibly could.
And then, and then he was on the rocky ground and he was so relieved he could kiss it! But the mother could come back… Alfred half-limped, half-tripped towards to a scraggly-looking, twisted tree sixty feet away. Shit, this was harder than it looked, the rocky terrain bit constantly into the exposed part of his left foot, and he was beginning to leave bloody footprints on the ground, let alone the drips of blood from his slightly healed arm. This sucked, this sucked majorly.
Alfred eventually reached the tree and sat beneath its branches. He watched as the mother returned to the nest, carrying a large cow in its claws, and dropped it. Alfred shuddered as he heard her brood scream in delight and the sounds of ripping meat. Thank the lord that wasn’t him now.
He let out a moan as suddenly everything was suddenly real to him, and the pain in his arm came forth in full force. Alfred nearly fainted with the sudden onslaught of pain. What the… Alright, first things first, first aid, right. Alfred painfully pulled his first aid kit out of his thoroughly ravaged backpack, and poured water from one his bottles all over his left arm with a yelp and a hiss, not wanting any bird spit to remain in his arm as it healed. Cuz infections sucked. Penicillin ruled. Except this was magic, yada yada yada. Whatever. He wrapped bandages around his arm with a wince.
Another thought hit him like a blow to the gut. He no longer had Adain and Aengus with him to guide him and help him and tell him about this completely bizarre world. No more Adain being ridiculously snooty, arrogant, and prideful yet randomly helpful, no more Aengus being gruff and friendly and overall more human than anything else here. He was probably the same level of human that Alfred was. He had to get back to them, somehow. Alfred closed his eyes as he tried to remember what he had flown over to get here. It was hard; all his mind seemed to want to do at the moment was a weird triad of triage, panic, and relief. But… there were mountains, and snow, and a desert, and then this rocky mesa area. So perhaps he’d be able to find his way back? He shoved the doubt out of his mind. He would. And the others would probably look for him if they could. Probably. Yes, yes they would.
Crowe 11e/?
Alfred began climbing, grasping at saplings. He was reminded absurdly of his younger days when he’d climb for no reason, except now, now his life depended on it. Alfred listened intensely, but the birds still seemed fairly distracted by his last onslaught. He climbed awkwardly, his middle, ring, and pinky fingers on his right hand devoted to holding the sword, thumb and forefinger gripping where they could. This was hard, really hard, but, but he didn’t have to go that far, not as far as the cliffs, just, like fifty feet up!
Alfred was suddenly aware of a lack of noise, and turned to see the birds studying him, large black eyes staring up at him intensely. He quickly wiped the sword on the mess of bloody cloth and flesh, renewing its poison. Yet, they did not strike, and not one to waste good fortune, Alfred quickly climbed the last ten feet to the top of the nest, and tossed himself over the edge with a strangled gasp, climbing down even faster than before. He was so close to freedom he could taste it! The thorns and brambles cut into his hands, but he couldn’t focus on that right now, he had to focus on keeping his left shoe on and descending as fast as he possibly could.
And then, and then he was on the rocky ground and he was so relieved he could kiss it! But the mother could come back… Alfred half-limped, half-tripped towards to a scraggly-looking, twisted tree sixty feet away. Shit, this was harder than it looked, the rocky terrain bit constantly into the exposed part of his left foot, and he was beginning to leave bloody footprints on the ground, let alone the drips of blood from his slightly healed arm. This sucked, this sucked majorly.
Alfred eventually reached the tree and sat beneath its branches. He watched as the mother returned to the nest, carrying a large cow in its claws, and dropped it. Alfred shuddered as he heard her brood scream in delight and the sounds of ripping meat. Thank the lord that wasn’t him now.
He let out a moan as suddenly everything was suddenly real to him, and the pain in his arm came forth in full force. Alfred nearly fainted with the sudden onslaught of pain. What the… Alright, first things first, first aid, right. Alfred painfully pulled his first aid kit out of his thoroughly ravaged backpack, and poured water from one his bottles all over his left arm with a yelp and a hiss, not wanting any bird spit to remain in his arm as it healed. Cuz infections sucked. Penicillin ruled. Except this was magic, yada yada yada. Whatever. He wrapped bandages around his arm with a wince.
Another thought hit him like a blow to the gut. He no longer had Adain and Aengus with him to guide him and help him and tell him about this completely bizarre world. No more Adain being ridiculously snooty, arrogant, and prideful yet randomly helpful, no more Aengus being gruff and friendly and overall more human than anything else here. He was probably the same level of human that Alfred was. He had to get back to them, somehow. Alfred closed his eyes as he tried to remember what he had flown over to get here. It was hard; all his mind seemed to want to do at the moment was a weird triad of triage, panic, and relief. But… there were mountains, and snow, and a desert, and then this rocky mesa area. So perhaps he’d be able to find his way back? He shoved the doubt out of his mind. He would. And the others would probably look for him if they could. Probably. Yes, yes they would.