He's not new. Batzorig has been a Tortugan for some time now, although others are only now becoming aware of it. A Watchman accepted him, a member of the Arch promoted him, and both of them disappeared like so many others. Batzorig hid himself between the jungle and low-tide caverns without even meaning to. They're all closer now-- bound by loss and huddled tightly to avoid losing any more during the move. It's not that the island is smaller, but that he wants to be nearer to his packmates.
    Lions are capable of quiet: it's their nature as ambush predators, even moreso than wolves. Batzorig usually forgets this. He rears to his back legs, claws anchoring into a half-fallen trunk before pulling it down. He's a stunning sight, shining black and all bulging muscle, but not for long before he flops in the sunlight. A stereotypical male of his kind, sleeping when there's work to be done.

I ooc: This thread is being liquid timed as it's own separate interactions post "The Business of Survival " thread. Since it's gone a bit quiet, we're going to liquid time the events about to happen as happening after the older threads interaction. This thread is also liquid timed before Ivaylo's acceptance in to Gemini. Just wanted a few heads up before we got under way for anyone who may be confused. Also these are probably going to be super short replies and posts. whoops.

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The sun was growing weary in the sky as early afternoon turned late and the woods were once again brimming with the early signs of the night life that would soon take over those that roamed the day. That, of course, was unnoticed by the young pup named Angus as he barreled through the underbrush of the forest, green eyes wide as they searched frantically for the large female wolf that had come up to him and a small gathering.

"Tell me.Tell me of this pack. Gemini. Now."

The words rang in his ears and buzzed about his brain as he continually mulled over each letter spoken. She knew something- she had to have known something about Gemini. Maybe she even knew where his parents were? Angus pushed himself, his chest burning and on the brink of exploding; his heart pounding so loud and fast that if he took his mind off of those words he might actually find himself tripping and falling over, unable to keep up. But he pressed on, digging each foot in to the ground in front of him and pushing off, panting wildly as he tried to find her. She would know something....

But it didn't last long; Angus pausing to stop and take in a deep breath of air. His breath raked through his nose, the pain stinging every nerve ending in his body as the exhaustion was piling on fast. Even for a pup he had his limits- and he was reaching them fast. The pup swallowed what little mucus remained in his mouth; everything was as dry as sand at this point. He looked around, the sudden pangs of disappointment creeping up to his heart. Or was it panic? He'd never experienced something like that before- so maybe it was just his exhaustion after all. 

"Hello?!" he called out as loud as he could, a small cough escaping his dried lips as he looked around frantically. "Please, please come, please come back!" Angus shifted on his front paws, letting out a tiny whine. "I need to know more about Gemini! I need, I need to find my way there! Hello?!"

As the silence of the forest overtook his senses, the pup found himself lost once more- the scents of everyone having disappeared. The sun as well was leaving him behind as it began to crest the horizon; Angus once more left alone in the cruel and large world with no leads on where to go. But a real adventurer pressed on; and with a start and an ache in his tiny muscles, the pup took off again, calling out as he ran.

"Hello? Please come, please come back!! Hello?!"

    He's not a fan of crowds. Fire, alcohol, drugs. Batzorig is rarely more content than alone, on a rainy day in a nice den where he can watch the palm trees whip in stormy wind. A melancholy has overcome Tortuga, abandoning the territory where many were born, loved ones lost. A battle fought for no gain-- a war that was never their own. They have a boy-king now, of dead father and mentor lost. Sympathy weighs on Batzorig's heart, but he knows better than to voice it to someone with Bermuda.
    He wishes there was something he could do to ease them. Herbs, like the Brewers do, the words of someone respected. Gifts of glamour to affirm authority no one else has the heart to claim. But, his paws are too big for trinkets and tattoos. He was made to hurt, the lion knows from example of the others that inhabited Tortuga. Gone now, as well.
    The best a brute can do is hope his sheer size drives off any dissent. The lion wouldn't really want to hurt anyone.

@Kiri

#997a8d
Where you go, she casts no shadow
Still you know she's near

Just as the tar seeps up from the ground. She was, after all, a bitter dancer. Was she not? This new found home was still strange and new, their ways different from other places she had been, but there was that need to thrive. It was a curse in the blood no doubt, her bloodline always managed to split and multiply, always finding the need to fill every cavity of whatever they inhabited. Like a disease of the flesh, or a virus. Some fates one simply couldn't escape. The Valley proved too crowded a pool, but this one... hmm, one could actually dip one's toes in.

A field of thistles and wild flowers dotting all along the coarse green grass, boxed in by tall and hardy pines and spruces, their budding pine cones only just beginning to sprout. Spring would soon be sprung, and the cycle would repeat. Even still, it was far warmer inland, memory drifting off to the valley protected by the wide mountain range. Their springs were mild and their summers unbearable. It had been a cool spring in Saboro, and her bones warned her of a mild summer. The sun would leave it's chaste warm kiss, and then without even seeing a bit of autumn, they'd slide from summer to winter.  

The blue female made a face at this thought as she laid, lazily among the flowers. Amber eyes glancing to a pristine, clear cloudless sky. The far off mountain peaks topped with their hats of white, colors dulled and faded into a soft blur of blue against the bright light color of the sky. High above came a cry, and Hidalgo's vision searched for it. A falcon soared and cried once more before fading off against the mountains. Far away the falcon flew. And that part of her, that longing desire through unrest and stillness, flew with it.

Claws digging into the loose dirt, she'd pull herself up and shake out her coat, turning her head to a familiar face. Ah ha. Bright amber eyes aglow, and that plain faced expression was quick to flip and twist into a smirk. "My Rosa how-" She caught herself then, pupils turning into pin pricks, and the scruff of her neck bristling. What facet were you letting slip this time? Who's memories were they really? "Pardon, Sabor." That's what they were called here, head dipping slightly, but deep down something screeched Red Rose. "How can, little ol me, help you this fine day."

Visit Origin!

She did not feel well actually she felt really really not well and not for the first time either. It was also not the first time she wasn't entirely sure where she was or how she had ended up there. Things were so blurry and jumbled and thinking took too much effort and it hurt besides. There were voices around voicing things she didn't really feel like trying to figure out and the didn't seem to be voices for her anyway at any rate..or wait. Now there was a voice, it kept talking and seemed to be talking to her. She didn't feel like answering though as that would require thought as she would have to figure out what the voice was saying in order to answer which she didn't feel like doing. But the voice kept on..and on and it just wouldn't stop. Maybe if she pretended it wasn't there it would go away and let her sleep..she waited but it still kept on  just like the throbbing all over kept on. She really wished it would all go away..the voice, the pain..she was so tired and so cold and she just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up until she was better and didn't feel..like this.

((so here is the short form for Tallulah to be treated for injuries @Charley  and Buckshot can be present as well if you want @Pawprint ))

{oh and Tallulah hit her head on a rock when she fell earlier and so basically as a combination of mild concussion, limited oxygen supply from being buried and hypothermia from laying in slush water plus some cuts/scrapes and scratches..yep}

(Trigger warning for depictions of death and decay. If you’re only interested in replying to the immediate RP skip to the last horizontal rule- most of this is just setting up backstory to be referenced in the future, yay!)

The sun was setting before the yearling realized it would be dark by the time she made it home and so her last choice was the race through the tangled thicket and hope she made it back before her mother did. She would, without a doubt, because she was quick and mother was big and slow. Aeon wasn’t even worried how her mother would react to her tardiness; it was more the fact that the youngling missed the big cat and was poor at expressing it. She pictured her destination in her mind like a perfect painting; rock jutting out of a hillside, half-shadowed by massive trunks, but during the hot afternoon the sun hit it perfectly and mother sprawled out across its warm surface letting the sunlight slowly rust her fur. There was no den to return to, but there was that, and mother always came back so that rock became her home.

When she saw the rock for real she barked triumphant—breathlessly—and scrabbled up its dark smooth surface. Mother was nowhere to be seen. Yet. Which was good because Aeon’s pulse was still throbbing in her veins, heart defeating her ears, and she struggled to catch her breath. If she seemed calm and rested when Metka arrived the cat might think she had been patiently waiting here the whole time and then the yearling girl could hit her with a crack about how she had been waiting impatiently, c’mon mom! The pup slid down to her belly and took a deep breath, giving her heart a chance to return to its normal rate, and hoping her mother would appear soon; the cold was getting into her thin fur and she wouldn’t mind getting a proper meal into her belly. The girl was perpetually starved and cold but Metka always had something to ease that.

The sun fell from the sky and the only starlight Aeon saw was from the silent sky hanging cold above her head.