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"Mnnhmohhh.." It was a barely recognizable sound- and certainly not a word, but whatever it was- it was anything but an exultation. Wherever she was, whatever had happened- it was wrong somehow. When had it rained? Where was she, and what had possesed her to become an overnight convert to somnambulism?

The hedgehog-girl crawled to her feet, shivering for the sake that she was soaked through and utterly filthy. She looked around- and wondered how she coud have gotten so far away from her cave. Emelyn stood for a moment longer, gathering her aching bones and shuddering form before trying to discern where the mountain was. Where 'home' was.

A vein of ragged breath shuddered from Emelyn's lips, and she put her fingers up to cover her nose- as if to block out the stench of fear and possibilty. Not a small part of her wanted to run- turn heels and head for the mountain, away to that sigh in the mountain that was the hole of her denial. She longed to lock herself away again- pretend she was safe, as she had been doing all these many months. But no amount of longing and pleading with herself could push away the inevitable. She wasn't safe there- nowhere on this Hell Island was a blindspot to terror, to fear and opression. Every eye that saw her- every forboding sound that racked her body in the night- they were Moreau. He was fear, and she couldn't escape him.

Whatever it was to the south of her propelled her... and drew her in. Emelyn warred with herself... and lost. There was something at stake here, and although she didn't know what it was, it drew her to the south.

She ran, feet pounding after one another, escaping something and chasing something at the same time. It was not so much out of need to get to the smell, but to not give herself the chance to think it over, to allow her feet to betray her to the north.

"Oh god... oh god..." Emelyn stumbled back with the force and magnitude of her discovery. The metallic-sweet smell of blood hung in the air, heavy with the hot moisture of the pressing humidity, and Emelyn nearly choked on the inhumanity of it all.

She was standing on the brink of an apocalypse. That she knew, despite the fear that pooled inside her and the lack of reason as she pressed through the clearing, towards Aubrey. Even with all the conflicting thoughts in Emelyn's head- there was no denying this carnage, and what it must mean. How could Moreau possibly let the woman who had once sat at his side, loving and devoted in all her finery- that night Emelyn had been so temporarily swayed to Moreau's side.... lay in a pool of her own blood, her flesh flayed and mangled, pointing to an unfriendly sky? Nowhere in Emelyn's mind did she entertain the thought that this was right or inevitable. Something... was terribly, terribly wrong.

She went to Aubrey first, still shaking from the moisture that permeated her fur and from the sight of it all. She didn't recognize the other woman- or even if anyone could be alive with so mangled a neck. She begged for silent forgiveness if this moment- her decisions- would say who lived or who died, as she knelt next to the doctor. She didn't even know if either of them were alive.

Emelyn put two fingers around the front of Aubrey's neck- past that bloody bit which had been mangled, and stilled her own breath, hoping to discern some heartbeat.

Emelyn nearly went blue from holding her breath, anxious- desperate to discern the pulse that finally made its pithy press against her taut fingers.

"Oh thank you..." Emelyn said to no one in particular. Whatever this woman and her cohorts had done to her- Em had seen her fill of dead bodies in her lifetime. One... was more than enough to wrack a soul to nightmares.

That shoulder looked flayed- shredded, and the exposed flesh glared with more bite marks like those shallow ones on her neck. Emelyn didn't relish dirtying the woman's wounds, but she couldn't allow her to lay face down in the mud for much longer, so she turned her over, praying that whatever wound was producing such massive amounts of blood would present itself as fixable.

As she turned Aubrey over, her eyes stole a fevered glance at the other woman where she lay. ..This time, she recognized her form as the woman who had been with Zach at the beach party. God... let them both be alive... Emelyn thought, her mind as ragged as her breath.

Blood was everywhere. She didn't know what to do. The years of first aid and minor med training Emelyn had endured for her laborous (thankfully infrequent) treks when her travel group had merged with the International Red Cross had not prepared the girl for something of this magnitude. From all the blood that presented itself, and the sheer size of the tears in her labcoat and shirt, Emelyn assumed that those wounds that she couldn't see- must be massive. Devastating. At that point, there was little that could be done from a first aid point of view, sans getting the patient to a supply of blood- and stitches. At this point, it may even be too late, Emelyn thought, the idea curdling in her stomach and sending a foul, sour vapor into her throat.

"I'll get you help," she said, knowing that Aubrey couldn't hear her. "Just... oh, god, don't die." She crawled to her feet, knees buckling, and ran to the woman whose name she didn't know, bending over her, instead. "Please say that you're just sleeping... come on..." she picked up an arm and shook it. Perhaps the bend in her neck was caused by her change- and not by the severing of bones. She would shake her arm for a mere minute more, then head off to the labs, were the woman not to respond.

Everything was a blur. It was a feeling not unlike that of when she first awoke from her transformation, except that she wasn't hurting much. Kaveri let out a low groan, her eyes still closed and her fingers twitching on the hand that Emelyn had lifted up. Her head rolled in the dirt, her neck felt limp like a wet noodle. Her eyelids blearily fluttered open, revealing her haunting silver eyes to the hedgehog girl.

"...Zach...?" Kaveri croaked out, smacking her tongue in her mouth to a very odd, alien taste -- she couldn't immediately place what the flavor was. She didn't even remember eating anything - her last memory was being high in the shower with the dragon-man, gazing at the showerhead in amazement.

This was not the shower. Showers are not filled with dirt and mud and... was that scent blood? It smelled absolutely putrid. She blinked a few more times, letting out a low whine as she painstakingly tried lifting her head on that long, horrible neck. "What... where..." Setting her head down, Kaveri stared up at the still-blurry Emelyn, a frightened, lost expression written on her bloody face.

"Man..." Kaveri groaned, her vision starting to clear up. She got herself to sit up with the help of Emelyn, her neck and head hanging low - not unlike the way a vulture held its head. She looked around, trembling, a frown etched on her face.

"I don't... I don't know a damn thing," she said, fumbling over words, "last I knew, I was... in the shower. With Zach. And high..." She caught sight of the other body on the ground, and her head recoiled back. "Oh, God! Where the ******** am I? What happened?" She was too far away to recognize the body, but she vaguely recalled Emelyn's face from the beach bar that one night.

"I want to go back... I want to go back..." She reached up to wipe at her lip, bringing it down to look at what could possibly be bringing that awful taste in her mouth. She hoped it was just dirt. However, the smeared, reddish tinge on her grey hands proved otherwise... it was blood. "Oh, Go-huhd..." Kaver choked and suppressed a gag at the sight.