Broadcasts

[Simon]

OOC:

Private for Chaim and Simon. <3


IC:

Day and night passed over Simon and still the mangled male crossed Macabre’s lands, managed to struggle out of her pursuit. Was she even chasing him? Maybe his mother decided to let him run and would come back to track him down later. He left a trail of heavy-scented blood and blatant footprints, so she might even play a game of cat-and-mouse with him.

Then again, she could come charging up behind him and kill him within the next ten seconds.

The silver male descended into a small valley where he crossed yet another small creek, breaking his scent trail. He waded down the length of it before emerging at a snail’s pace and padding slowly up the other side of the hill. Simon didn’t have the energy to jog anymore, let alone run. His panic, his terror for his very life, and his all-out race across Macabre’s new home drained every last drop of energy he possessed.

His shoulder never stopped hurting, aching, throbbing with each pulse. Dearest mother had cleaved it right down to the bone with her cruel teeth. The spray of fluffy fur at his shoulder was matted and saturated with his own blood, and a watery trail of it stained his white leg crimson. The bleeding slowed to an ooze now, but every shift of his muscles broke any possibility of forming a scab.

Now, saturated with water and still sobbing for breath, Simon paused to prick his ears and listen. No howls, no sounds. Only the whisper of the wind. Comforting violets and dark blues streaked across the sky as the blazing sun settled below the western horizon. Soon it would be night, but that would still be an hour or so.

Simon staggered over to a thick gathering of shrubs beneath a tree. Slipping up beside the trunk, he crouched down and slid beneath one well hidden among the other bushes. At night, the dark forms would hide him completely from view, like a leafy dome hiding him beneath its ceiling. Here, Simon finally allowed himself to collapse with heavy gasps and whimper unsteadily, craning his neck to lick gingerly at the terrible laceration. The bitch split his shoulder wide open with her savage shaking. What damage had she done? Would it ever heal?

Trembling incessantly, the small male whimpered to himself and stretched out loosely on his side, too exhausted to curl up and conserve warmth. Macabre would’ve chastised him for wasting energy and heat in such dangerous condition. <i>Fuck her.</i> But no wrath would come; Simon was thoroughly drained, numb. He needed to sleep, and within minutes of panicked worries and frayed nerves, the tormented male fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. But could he really expect to sleep soundly while knowing that he was being hunted by a merciless killer?

Would he ever?

[Chaim]

Whether Macabre was working to locate Simon was unknown to the one that was pressing closer in their pursuit. Chaim hadn't been too far off from the hillside that hosted home to the terrible brawl between the now infamous kin. Chaim had seen it coming from a mile away. Anyone that had spent more then ten minutes in the pair's company would have been aware that tension was high and consistant. Both Macabre and Simon were constantly exchanging glances at one another. The expressions that they often bore had never been good either.

Simon's squeal of pain had instantly alerted Chaim to trouble. The male had flown into a frenzy. He hadn't known what to do. He'd just more or less stayed hidden in the shadows of the forest. He heard faint growls but opted to wait to investigate.

When a strong breeze slapped against his face carrying the scent of blood - the wolf then realized that things were far more serious then he first could have imagined. Making haste, Chaim had done his best to hurry to the hill top where it all began. When he arrived though, there was no sign of Simon or Macabre. Instead the thick green grass of summer had scattered tufts of fur floating about in the breeze. A few droplets of dried blood rested upon it's blades, but there was no one to be seen.

This of course, had been an absolute relief to Chaim. He wasn't one to have an intolerance for bloodied forms and open wounds - but a still wolf upset him. Death bothered him. What he hated most was how a corpse seemed to freeze in place. No matter what time of year, death was always icy. When his Mother had passed, Chaim had pressed his nose to her's only to be met with a shock wave of chills. He didn't like that sensation. That scary stillness of death. It frightened him - and so he naturally opted to avoid it.

This situation however was not one to be ignored or put off until later. Macabre had been tolerant of Chaim. In fact, the young male would go as far as to say that she'd been very good to him. The ashen wolf had even expressed a few precious moments of affection. Whether those moments held anything genuine or not, Chaim didn't know. He'd been skeptical of her - because of the on going bickering that she and Simon seemed to constantly wage out.

One thing was certain - their petty squabbling had definitely escalated.

Standing there on the hill, Chaim's amber eyes quickly scanned his immediate surroundings. He saw no sign of Simon or Macabre any where. He also didn't detect any faint growls or whimpers. The lay of the land seemed to be silent when it came to fluid tones of wolf. Birds chirped - bees buzzed. But there was no volume of familiarity.

Just silence.

Lowering his nape to the green earth, Chaim inhaled a rolling bit of fluff. It was Simon's. Immediately breaking into a heart wrenching whimper - the male circled around the hill side twice. With his ears perked in nervous awareness, Chaim began a frantic search for his silver pelted friend.

Moving down the slope at lightning speed, the male wanted to locate Simon's scent and track him. He worried that Macabre would return to the scene of the "crime". If that happened what would he say? What would he do? Surely, she'd find just cause to be offended by his concern for Simon. The idea of such a confrontation didn't suit him at all.

With that thought in mind, Chaim had given himself focus and drive. He couldn't lag around and wait to hear Macabre's side of things. He had to find Simon.

That desire is what led to the wolf's persistant tracking. He'd worn himself out with worry. Simon's scent had been masked, disguised and hidden by nature and all it's glory. The water of the river and streams had aided the injured wolf in moving off. But Chaim was still greatly concerned. He hadn't yet found his friend. Only the occasional whisp of his scent. A few times, the wolf had to force himself to stop and break. He wasn't panting or sick from from physical exhaustion - he was just worrying himself to death. Traveling as he had been, Simon had definitely moved beyond the familiar Likuta borders. That pack had broken up and been abandoned for some time now, but Macabre had not yet established an actual name to the land she would now rule over.

At any rate - they were out of Macabre's backyard. Pressing onwards, Chaim resisted the urge to cry out and howl for Simon. That would be far too risky a move. The cream colored wolf had known all along that Macabre was dangerous but he had not yet realized that she could be savage and brutal with her own kin.

The reality of it - was quite disheartening.

After splashing through a water crossing, Chaim had to do some work in locating where Simon's scent picked up. The faint aroma of blood singed through the air as a strong gust of evening wind picked up. Feeling the breeze rustle his fur, the male lifted his head to peer around the damp bank he now stood upon. In the darkness it was hard to make out any actual track marks. However he was still careful to look for them.

Rounding one bend, the male instantly located the fresh scent of Simon. He was near by. Chaim could tell. He just had a feeling. With his tail wagging in both excitement and mild relief, the wolf pushed forward. Trotting off, the young male paused as he came upon a cluster of shrubbery. Carefully brushing his nose upon the delicate leaves, Chaim finally located the final idicator that Simon was near by.

He was there.

Hesitantly poking his head through the thick flora, the wolf pinned his ears back in worry as his golden gaze fell upon the broken and battered form of his friend. Feeling his heart sink at the look of him, Chaim did his best to silently inch closer. As he neared the trunk, Chaim suddenly stopped. Standing tall and rigid his heart began to race as panic set in to mess with logic.

Was Simon dead?

Chaim couldn't breathe. Nor could he move. Instead he just stared. In the darkness the wolf couldn't make out whether or not Simon was breathing. Straining as he did only worsened his torment. His eyes played tricks on him. Once he thought he saw the other wolf take a breath - and then in the next moment he was certain that he was cold and rigid with death.

Whimpering once, Chaim pawed at the ground. Simon lay a mere few inches from him, curled up in a tangle of trunk and root.

Maybe he hadn't escaped.

Maybe he'd just left to die...

"Simon..?" Chaim perked his ears. Silence.

Oh, he was going to have a heart attack. Looking around, Chaim felt very much alone. The thought of keeping company with a corpse that had been his friend unnerved him. "Simon." Chaim barked now, he sounded fierce and determined. He didn't want the other wolf to be dead. Not yet - not now.

Rushing at his side, Chaim made sure to make contact. Closing any distance at all between them - the male quite stupidly placed one paw upon Simon's backside. He wanted to touch him and feel him.

He wanted him to be alive.

[Simon]

Dead sleep. How ironic. Darkness folded itself over Simon's drifting mind, carefully sheltering him with its opaque. The direness of exhaustion kept him sleeping sound and weighted his anxiety down like a rock, preventing it from lifting into haphazard dreams. Broken sleep boded ill for a tired wolf but broken dreams were far worse. A wolf waking from a fractured dream couldn't discern from reality and his own wild imagination.

But Simon's imagination was as vast as his shifting anxiety, and soon the blanket of weariness fell away as he slipped into dangerous dreams. In them, he roamed the landscape in near-total darkness, hillsides swept in gray monotones and the trees a darker shade. Colors bled away and left only black and white contrasting starkly with a world of gray. Of uncertainty. Ambiguity.

His dream took a sound, too. Rustling leaves beneath a delicate breeze that ran its fingers along the tops of the trees. His own canopy shivered as the unseen motion passed over him and leaves trembled closer to his ears. The breeze grew louder and suddenly the black figure of his mother appeared, drifting across the clearing before him without aim. Simon cowered beneath a tree in his dream.

But Macabre saw him and Simon froze, muscles tensing in his sleep. She didn't run but stood gazing at him with glowing violet eyes like the dead, then strolled casually over to him. He heard a whisper from her, a tremulous Whimper that made him uncertain of her intentions. Mother missed son. But mother also attacked son, tore open his shoulder...

And as if on cue in the dream, Simon let his gaze fall sidelong onto his injured shoulder. Vivid crimson spilled from the jagged crevasse and he glimpsed the white bone beneath his eddying liquid. Not black or white or gray but bright red. Color, but blood and pain and death. Simon's heart beat hard and fast, and his breathing quickened suddenly as fear crept up into his throat. Maw parted, and a tiny whimper escaped his dream, reaching reality.

Macabre loomed near and suddenly he heard her voice - not neutral but savage. Growling his name. The sharp sound pierced his ears which flattened against his head both in his dream and in waking life. The forest began to shudder and vanish as the dream collapsed but Macabre remained clear, closing in with sudden yellow eyes that lit the darkness and ignited his terror again. Then...

Simon jerked suddenly as the dream gave way to reality, and he pulled in a gasp. Blinking, the disoriented male felt his shoulder spasm with the sudden movement and the pain made him exhale sharply. But something struck him firmly and he felt blunt nails press slightly against his fur. Lashing his wide eyes to find the origin, Simon locked eyes with the golden hues of Chaim.

Macabre.

A piercing snarl contorted with that of a high-pitched shriek and Simon shot backwards, bodily smashing through the branches of the shrubbery. Snapping twigs dragged their claws along his fur as he backed hastily away from the wolf before him, lips pulled back from his bared teeth and jaws wide with fear. Gasps came in sudden, ragged breaths and sobbed from his lungs due to a diaphragm quaking with panic. She found him.

"Simon."

The voice quieted Simon's electric snarls and cries until they fluctuated between a low growl and a whine. Nostrils still flared with heavy breathing but his limbs no longer backpedaled. He eyed the light-colored wolf before him with ears laid back against his head and pupils pooled so his eyes became fully black. A male, and the scent pulled the memories from their temporary hibernation.

Chaim.

The male wouldn't hurt him, Simon knew this. With that relief, the weary male let out a thin breathy whine and settled down to his belly like a rabbit, head bowed down to his chest and tail wrapped around his side. He looked tiny and felt tiny, but the mesh of branches still cloaked them from the outside world. Still, Simon's heart raced on in diminished but ever constant fear.

[Chaim]

*squishes poor wittle Simon* <33 Immediate relief suddenly coursed through Chaim when he saw and felt Simon's movement. The other wolf looked to be beyond startled. Stepping back some, Chaim felt some what ashamed for being so bold in his worry. He hadn't meant to frighten or alarm his friend. He'd just been terribly worried. Licking his maw once, Chaim's ears flattened some against his head as he realized just how bad a state Simon was in. Watching with intense interest, the wolf saw how careful Simon was to move. Observing how he sat and how he held himself caused Chaim to feel sad. - Turning once, the young male stole a hesitant glance over his shoulder. He knew Macabre was responsible for this. It angered him. He couldn't believe someone such as she would be so cold and so cruel. Everyone had potential. Everyone could improve. When it came to Macabre though, Chaim had once viewed her to be practically perfect. She was strong, fierce, loyal and determined. Such good traits could not be ignored. However, for all the good that she was - the female also had a lot of bad nestled within her. Perhaps more then just her fur was black... "Simon, I've been so worried." Chaim expressed as he slowly approached the shaken wolf. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Apologizing in a tone of genuine truth, the male wore an expression that projected pure concern. Stepping closer so that he was now standing along side the silver wolf, Chaim lowered his nape to examine the wounds that Simon now suffered with. Breathing in the scent of blood and open flesh, Chaim's ears pinned in disgust of the situation. Working carefully so that he would not irritate the bloody laceration, Chaim tenderly gave the wound a few gentle licks. He wanted to help get Simon cleaned up. Groom him a bit and maybe help him to feel better. As the bitter taste of copper blood melted upon his tongue, Chaim resisted the urge to growl. His throat felt raspy as a rumble of frustration slipped free from his maw. He was so angry at Macabre. How could she do this to Simon? He was her son. "Are you okay?" Chaim managed while breaking from his attempted tending. The cream colored wolf liked affection. He was never sorry to give it. He just wished that he could do more then wag his tail and nuzzle Simon. Just by looking at him, Chaim could tell that his friend was some what heart broken.

[Simon]

OOC: D’awwww. Hee hee. IC: Quivering ears caught the soft sounds of Chaim retreat despite being flattened against Simon's head. Although they didn't perk up, Simon's satin ears relaxed a little. Wide eyes softened from fear to weariness, lids sliding partway over dilated pupils. Pressed against Simon’s chest like those of a tiny cat, his white paws trembled. "Simon, I've been so worried. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Simon managed to offer a wry smile. At least Chaim didn't hold a grudge anymore… unlike Macabre. The memory sent a qualm of nausea through his stomach. Simon rolled his brown eyes up to gaze quietly at Chaim as the other male approached slowly, wisely. The injured wolf didn’t snap or whine; He was far too tired. Besides, he wanted Chaim's company. So he closed his eyes quietly as Chaim settled by his side, flared nostrils sweeping in the familiar and comforting scent. A solo ear swiveled to orient on the other male as warm breath touched his bloody fur and raw flesh. Then gentle grooming. At first, Simon flinched at the contact on his open wound but quickly relaxed. He was a caretaker and knew that their saliva produced antibacterial secretions as well as those which aided wound closure. Chaim was a hell of a doctor. Feeling the comforting sweep of tongue, Simon's breathing grew slow and rhythmic. Cloudy eyes closed and drifted slowly back and forth in their basins like orbs in an ocean. Just as he wavered on the edge of slumping over and falling asleep, a low vibration from Chaim's throat effectively startled him awake. Muscles tensed and his eyes widened momentarily, but Chaim wasn’t growling at him. More like a purr anyway. No, he’d heard plenty of real snarls in the past week. "Are you okay?" Too lazy to put effort into speaking, the matted wolf simply nodded and sighed. His strained rabbit posture melted into a side sprawl, shoulders slumped and hind legs sliding out to the side. He was already leaning his neck against Chaim, so Simon let the muscles slacken to set his head down in the lush fur between Chaim’s mane and shoulders. Much better. Thinking of the absent Taye who disappeared after Simon protected her from Macabre, he whispered. "Taye disappeared... and I have to find Kiskana before Macabre finds me. I’m crossing river tomorrow... going back home." Darkness cloaked them from view now, and the solid silhouette of the congested bushes guaranteed their safety. For now. No starlight penetrated the dome of branches to reflect in Simon’s eyes as they blinked. Who knew if anyone he knew in Kiskana survived? But Macabre tried to kill Simon for "betraying" her. If she discovered Chaim's illness and knew that he left to find Simon, she would suspect him. Probably kill him too. Thinking this, the blood-speckled male shifted his muzzle gingerly over Chaim's rolling shoulder to bury his maw in the mane's sweet fur. Simon tilted his brow to rest against the younger male’s neck, pressing lightly. He couldn't just leave Chaim here for Macabre to slaughter, and he knew Aspen personally. She led Kiskana. They could be with other wolves who nurtured and protected each other, back in the presence of kind wolves. A well-deserved reprieve from savage killers like Macabre. "Come back with me. Staying here means death, and Kiskana is a sanctuary. My real home. She never was my home."

[Chaim]

*sqooshes Simon* With concerned eyes, Chaim kept his gaze on his friend. Wearing a prominant frown the young wolf swung his nape some to continue to offer tender licks of affection. He wished he could do more. Easing the pain in his battered form was one thing, but how could Chaim help to chase off the pain in Simon's heart? Whether Simon and Macabre had a history of fighting and arguing mattered not. At the end of the day they were family. They loved one another. (At least Chaim was certain Simon had loved Macabre.) Why the female would attack her son as she had - was beyond Chaim's understanding. No disagreement no matter how great would justify the beating she'd given Simon. As the silver male seemed to relax a tiny bit, Chaim felt Simon brush up against him. He was curling up some - which made the other male happy. Allowing a moment's worth of a wag to be had, Chaim dipped his head down to sweep his pink tongue and hot breath over Simon's forehead. Working to groom Simon, the cream colored male snuffled against his friend's fur. He had been so worried about him after discovering the blood on the hillside. Chaim had both anticipated and dreaded his reunion with Simon, for he feared a discovery of a body. Thankfully though Chaim had been most fortunate to find Simon alive. As it was, the young wolf was still celebrating this moment. He was relieved to be along side him. Feeling the slight vibration of his friend's heart beating against him. Pinning his ears back in remorse of the situation, Chaim delicately moved his snout to press it against the inside of one of Simon's ears. Ensuring that no threatening injuries were left on treated, the wolf once more smoothed his warm tongue over the slick bit of fur. "Taye disappeared... and I have to find Kiskana before Macabre finds me. I’m crossing river tomorrow... going back home." Not too sure how to respond to such information, Chaim managed a nod of understanding before resuming that of his delicate grooming. If it was soothing Simon any - it was completely relaxing Chaim. Some how the task was serving to distract Chaim from the concern swelling inside of him. Macabre had been relentless on her attack with Simon. The female had literally ripped him open. Surely she would seize the opportunity to end his life. How Simon managed to avoid such a fate, Chaim did not know. As Chaim lay there along side the exhausted wolf, he couldn't help but wonder if Macabre was busy tracking him. Simon's scent had been hard to trace - but what about the one Chaim had left behind? Macabre would be furious, wouldn't she? Shivering once, Chaim kept his ears pressed back tightly. He wanted to curl up and hide. To know that Macabre was moving about freely with such influence over others unnerved the male. Macabre was capable of many things... "Come back with me. Staying here means death, and Kiskana is a sanctuary. My real home. She never was my home." Directing his amber eyes towards Simon's, Chaim sighed some. Presently, the male was hardly torn in his feelings and decisions. Chaim knew that Macabre would have a big problem with him running off to ensure that Simon was alright. That move had caused him to take sides. He'd do it again though - in a heart beat. Nuzzling Simon in an affectionate way, Chaim didn't speak. He wasn't ignoring Simon - nor was he bothered by anything the other male had said. Quite simply he just wished his friend would sleep. Rest would be best for Simon. So Chaim was quiet. Licking at Simon's maw a few times, Chaim hoped that his actions and tender grooming would help to lull the injured wolf into a more comfortable sleep...

[Simon]

OOC: I’ll post in the Kiskana meeting thread tomorrow if that’s ok. Chaim coming along in the same thread? IC: The warm, rhythmic strokes of Chaim's grooming paralleled those once given to Simon long ago by his estranged mother. Back when he couldn't reach her knee. Back when she still adored him in his helpless infancy. A tongue's comforting sweep stirred memories and sentiments long dormant. Now, Chaim's affectionate nurture made Simon immensely drowsy. Agitated heartbeats slowed to a lull and his breathing fell into a rhythm. Falling slowly but surely into a deep sleep. Chaim's snuffles and grooming ensured that he would feel comforted and safe. The other male's heart chambers fluctuated in Simon's ear where it pressed against soft fur. The sound of Chaim's heartbeat was muffled, patterned. A lullaby that Simon latch onto as he sank into a half-conscious state. White-furred ear flicked absently when the younger male's nose poked inside, but otherwise he felt comfortable. All but the steady throb and burn of his torn shoulder. The wound would probably get worse before it got better. Macabre hunted, fought, and killed all her life. She knew the best and most efficient techniques and had the speed, stamina, and strength to pull them off. That was how she'd been able to grab his shoulder anywhere, get a good grip, and violently shake her head with enough power to rip it wide open like felt. His blood probably stained her muzzle still, or at least the metallic scent. Maybe others would smell the blood of her own son. Maybe then they'd think twice about her trustworthiness. Others would recognize the futility of hoping for mercy. The light male shivered at the thought of Macabre, knowing she could be anywhere by now. Even within a mile of their shelter. Restless eyelids split open and black pools shifted along the shadows beyond their "den" anxiously. Tomorrow he would leave for good. Cross the river, even with his injured shoulder, and make his way to Kiskana. He only worried about Tyjiik and their borders. Would they be clear or would he stumble into their packlands without knowing it? No matter, he would face all of Tyjiik before he would succumb to Macabre. Silver muzzle grazed Chaim's chin as Simon spoke low. "I'm crossing the river tomorrow before she can get me. You should probably get out of here too. She'll know you followed me and won't like that at all." With a sigh, Simon settled his head weakly against Chaim's ruff again. Lids fluttered over brown eyes that gazed out from his black lashes to watch Chaim's paws shift. Whatever the other wolf chose, Simon hoped he wouldn't stay within Macabre's reach.

[Chaim]

Aye aye Captain! *salutes you* .. Of course he's a comin'! ^^ Chaim was quiet. Not because he was angry or tired or rude. He was just simply quiet. Perhaps the peaceful stillness of their surroundings caused the male to be as still as he was. At any rate, he still had a strong concern for Simon that would not leave him. However they were both fine. For the moment Macabre was not there. Simon was injured of course, but he was alive - and that was reason enough for Chaim to be both thankful and quiet. What could he say? What should he say? Chaim just wanted Simon to rest. He wanted him to sleep. This was why he continued to sweep his tongue against the other's ruffled fur. Simon looked a bit crazed. Unkept and messy. Again though, that was Macabre's fault. Sighing some when Simon seemed to finally settle down, Chaim drew his left paw close to curl under the creamy brush of his chest. Settling back some, the make kept his chin somewhat lifted before twisting his form to better accomodate Simon's position. Arching his ears when his friend spoke, Chaim wanted to laugh. Not because he didn't believe Simon could do it - but because his laugh was nervous and some what uncomfortable. It was what Simon said that made him feel such. "You should probably get out of here too. She'll know you followed me and won't like that at all." Chaim already knew Macabre would know. He also knew she wouldn't be pleased. But with Simon reinstating this fact.. It just didn't help things. The young wolf felt his heart race as he became some what paranoid of where they lay. Turning his head this way and then that, the male skeptically examined their immediate surroundings. What would he do if Macabre came for them? Honestly, running was the first option that Chaim agreed with. Taking her on and fighting out of defense would earn him a slow death. No, Chaim didn't want to think about such things. He wanted to sleep to. He wanted to just enjoy the moment he had. He was with Simon - they were together. All was well. No one was dead. Yet. "Go to sleep Simon." The wolf instructed in the softest of voices. Chaim almost sounded as if he were requesting a favor or pleading. "Please." He added while nuzzling at the other's forehead. Breathing in Simon's scent, Chaim made sure to lock it's familiarity away. He wanted to remember it - should anything happen. "I'll be right here." Chaim added as an after thought. He wouldn't leave Simon. Not after what Macabre had done to him. In hurting Simon - she had hurt Chaim as well. Simon was stuck with him now. Forcing himself to settle down, Chaim managed to stretch out one forearm before leaning back on his left side. Bringing Simon down upon him, Chaim then curled around so that his nose was near that of his friend. The night seemed unusually quiet to a wolf that was paranod. Somehow though - sleep eventually claimed the male. Come day break, he had a long walk ahead of him - as well as that of a swim. ~END of THREAD~