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Dangerous Conversationalist
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 Posted: Mon Jul 22, 2013 3:54 am
Basil was just as reluctant as the others to pair off, but said nothing, having neither the tools or the prerogative to form an argument against it.
Before they had embarked, he'd been given two equally pertinent instructions. Listen to Jeremy, and don't break away from the group. But what was he supposed to do when following one rule was contingent on breaking the other? He supposed it was just easier to hope Jeremy knew what he was doing. Not that he had much choice in the matter.
As they spread out, Basil quickly took notice of how small the distance actually was, and he didn't feel quite as uneasy. As long as they could still see each other.
Reflecting on it, he would have been alright spreading out even more.
He didn't suggest that to Lazarus though, tasking himself with keeping an eye on the compass like he was told. Lazarus offered that he not hold it so close to his face, but between the humidity, the loss of sunlight, and Basil's nearsightedness, there wasn't much he could do. Having the flashlight helped enormously. He muttered his gratitude, chanting in his head.
Keep the needle on N. Keep the needle on N. Keep the needle on N.
He observed that the word 'needle' started with a 'N', which struck him as a funny coincidence. He also observed that there was no shortage of noise in this place. A lot of buzzing insects and croaking frogs and rustling leaves. Basil found the louder it was, the clearer his mind became. The easier it was for him to focus.
It was actually quite peaceful.
He singled out the voices of the humans. Lazarus and Basil had taken the left, and Lazarus was on Basil's right-hand side with the flashlight. He probably would have heard them faintly, but Basil could interpret their conversation as clearly as if he were standing behind them.
"Mm. They're talking about us." He observed, not seeming especially offended by it. Just stating a fact, as though Lazarus would be interested to know. He never took his eyes off the compass. They didn't have the kind of relationship that encouraged small-talk.
Staring at the wobbling little 'N', his mind started to wander. He didn't think of it at the time, but he wondered now.
Why split up into Raevans and humans? Basil was terribly uneducated about the potential of his species, but he at least understood enough that Raevans had different skill-sets than humans. Historically they were either more intuitive than humans, or stronger, or more endurable. So wouldn't it have made more sense to even the odds if something went wrong? Maybe having two people shoe-horned into one body naturally gave a person a preference for symmetry, but even tactically it made sense. One Raevan to one human. Why not?
He considered telling this to Lazarus, as if he were in a better position to do something about it, but just as he looked up, some flying insect—a gnat or mosquito—singed past his ear and into his hood. He flinched with a noise somewhere between a yelp and turkey-gobble. With one hand he dropped down his hood while the other fumbled with the compass. There was an awkward dance of bouncing it between his hands before it fell between them, making a wet papery sound as it landed on the bracken below.
He groaned and threw his arms down. "Crap. Sorry." He pointed vaguely at the leaves, "Point your flashlight there and I'll get it..."
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Posted: Mon Jul 22, 2013 6:34 am
As the compass hits the ground, it seems to awaken a few surrounding creatures.
Wide yellow eyes with slitted pupils blink open beside where the compass fell. In the treetops, several more pairs of yellow eyes turn toward the sound.
Are you sure you should pick it up?
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Posted: Mon Jul 22, 2013 8:22 am
Jeremy turned and looked at Duncan with mild surprise, his brows arched curiously when he suggested that Lazarus may be his Raevan. "Oh Lazarus is not mine." He chuckled softly, seemingly quite amused. "Lazarus is Kyou's, he was the one that alerted me about him being missing. This affects him the most..." The man seemed thoughtful for a moment as he recalled the incident. The red Sigel was so lost and frantic then, but now he had composed himself together and actually seemed alright, despite the situation.
"Don't worry though. He's a strong and dependable Raevan." Jeremy reassured Duncan with a smile and a gentle pat on the back. "Besides, this trail is too narrow for all of us to be walking on together. If you haven't notice, they float. They could handle that thin layer of underbrush there no problem." Cocking his head back, he let out a hearty chuckle, like he just made a funny joke. Of course he know how serious the situation is, but Jeremy had always been a half glass full kind of guy, and he will not let the grimness of the search affect his ability to crack jokes.
Though he don't really like Basil, but this is turning out to be a-okay. At least the Frei haven't tried to eat the flora and fauna yet, and even seemed quite focused with his task. Maybe he was too quick to judge, maybe Basil did matured somewhat since they haven't met in a long time. He is still a peculiar one though.
Lazarus cocked an eyebrow when Basil mentioned about the two older humans. They are far enough that the Sigel couldn't hear them, at least nothing clear, except for that chuckle that Jeremy just let out. "You can hear them from over here?" Lazarus asked curiously, perhaps it was a Raevan-specific ability of Basil's? Although at the moment he can't recall what Basil's fel essence was... he did remember that the Frei was from a king cobra soul. Do they have super hearing?
Then suddenly an insect flew pass just right in front of his eyes, Lazarus had to pull his face back in surprise or it will hit him. Unfortunately it made it's way straight into Basil's hood instead. It all happened so fast and before he knew it, the compass had already dropped through the underbrush. "Crap..." He had to echo Basil's sentiments, but when he shone the flashlight into the bush, bright yellow eyes were peeking back at them. Before Basil could reach down to get the compass, Lazarus grabbed his arm. "Wait..." He whispered. The Sigel's body was tense, cold sweat was beading on his tanned skin as he could feel eyes on them. Reaching over a little, he grabbed a branch that was sticking out of the ground and poked at the eyes next to the compass, determined to find out what it was, or at least shoo it away so Basil could grab the dropped item.
The humans were a few feet ahead of the Raevans, and the rustling of leaves had caught Jeremy's attention. Halting in his steps, he turned around and called out to them, unaware of the situation they are in. "Hey are you guys alright back there?"
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 12:21 am
"Lazarus is Dr. Kyou's Raevan? I didn't realize he had one himself!" Duncan glanced at the two Raevans, "I suppose it makes sense, but... I'll try my best to hurry. I wouldn't want to slow down Lazarus in his search."
The team came to a standstill once again, though, when Basil dropped the compass-- though Duncan could hear the clicking noise, he didn't notice what had happened, exactly, as his mind was set on the map and the trail in front of him. When Jeremy stopped, though, Duncan looked back at the Raevans, and found himself glaring right back at pairs of yellow eyes.
As Jeremy called out to the Raevans, Duncan folded up the map under one arm and reached into the side of his backpack for a flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed it towards the Raevans, so they could better see what they were looking for-- Duncan noticed now that Basil was missing his compass. Despite his keen curiosity, Duncan found it wiser not to point anything directly at the strange eyes. They seemed complacent while left alone-- most animals often were.
"Basil, don't worry too much about finding the compass," Duncan pat his backpack assuredly, "Between all four of us, we should have about seven more." He glanced at Jeremy cautiously, but chanced being scolded to advise the Raevans away from the eyes, "Perhaps you should come back to us. The trail is a little narrow, but we can form a line."
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 3:27 am
As Duncan turns on his flashlight, the beam settles on the figure of...
A cat?
A large, yellow-eyed black cat, its coat like ink and its eyes a striking yellow. It hisses and arches its back as Lazarus prods it. Then, as revenge, it snatches the compass in its teeth and bolts up a nearby tree, adding its pair of eyes to the multitude above them.
As the group continues to walk, more pairs of yellow eyes continue to appear in the treetops above. Hundreds of them, watching, judging. It looks like a jury, looking down on prisoners. If you look closely, you can see the figure of the black cat, moving with the group.
What's that people say about a black cat crossing your path?
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Posted: Tue Jul 23, 2013 6:58 pm
Basil was already in the process of bending down when Lazarus aimed his flashlight, so you can imagine his surprise when he realized how close he had actually come to what was waiting below.
The beam settled on a pair of staring yellow eyes, unwinking and seeming to float eerily and unnaturally in the shadowy undergrowth. His eyes widened. His nostrils flared. His skin pulled tight over the sharp bones of his face. He didn't make a sound.
Lazarus snatched him by the arm, and his breath hitched. He flinched at the touch, but it effectively brought him back to reality. Made him conscious of his body and his ability to control it. He eased his arm back slowly as Lazarus investigated. A sharp stick made an appearance, and Basil looked at it, puzzled, as though he couldn't remember Lazarus picking it up. It was pronged and a good three feet long. Perfect for roasting marshmallows on.
Another kind of person might have told Laz to give the animal some space to run away. Or at least discourage him from harassing it. But in the moment, Basil understood he was just trying to be helpful, even if it wasn't the best way to go about it. Hell, if it were the other way around, he might have done the same thing.
Maybe it was because they were both so spooked that it hadn't occurred to either of them that they didn't need to waste time looking for the compass.
"Between all four of us, we should have about seven more," Duncan called over.
He was on the verge of adding something else, when the ferns parted to reveal the source of the eyes. It was a cat. Not an ocelot or a margay or some other jungle-cat you would expect to see, but something black and smallish. Like a housecat, but more savage. The kind of cat you saw hiding under porches and lounging on fire-escapes. Eking out its place in alleys and barns on the fringes of civilization. The hump of its back was the next thing to appear after its eyes. Then its face and bottle-brush tail.
It flattened back its ears, eyes slivered and baring tiny white teeth. When it hissed, Basil felt suddenly overwhelmed. Like someone had dropped a cold bowling ball where his stomach would someday be. His tongue crowded against his folded teeth. He felt trapped inside a mixture of revulsion and anxiety. Something flinchy and oversensitive. This feeling didn't belong to him. It didn't originate from his own heart, or stem from his own perceptions of danger. It was The Other. Connected to him through a permeable membrane of empathy. Thin, but intimate. Like touching someone through saran wrap. Basil could sense his apprehension. The way he cringed as the cat snatched the compass and flew up into the tree-canopy, where an impossible number of eyes were bearing down at them.
They were like birds on a telephone wire. Interestingly, the term for a group of cats is a "glaring". And that's exactly what they were doing. Glaring. Not just menacing, but judging somehow. Leering down at them en masse.
Somehow Basil knew. This didn't just happen. Cats didn't behave like this. They weren't social animals, and they weren't this organized. They didn't gather together and form packs with some thousand-odd members. This wasn't right.
Basil swallowed audibly. His throat was so tight it sounded like he was gulping down a golf-ball. Without realizing, his own pupils were drawn into teeny black slivers, swallowed by the white meat of his eyes. A startling thing to see if you weren't prepared for it. He moved slooowly towards Lazarus. Sidling up next to him, then in front of him. He seemed reluctant. Not entirely sure of what he was doing. Duncan ventured a request. He wanted them to come back to the group, but Basil wasn't listening.
He carefully reached up under his sweatshirt, finding his rune. He reached in between the ribbons, touching two fingers to the white heat he found there. A pulsing energy. A burn that didn't hurt. His rune was a straight line. No bends, no deviation, except for a hatch-mark at the top, like a lower-case 't' with an 'x' for a cross-line.
He pressed his fingers to the base, then slid them up, channeling the energy. To an outsider's view, the gesture would have seemed almost obscene, but to Basil, it had a different meaning entirely. It was like raising a volume bar. His face was firm and concentrated and a little sweaty.
There was a humming sound. A high, ultrasonic frequency pulsed from him, growing higher and higher until it passed completely out of the range of human hearing. At a certain level, the noise was extremely irritating. A frequency most animals and insects found intolerable. At another level, it was actually painful... He didn't often channel his rune for this ability. Only when he wanted to tap into its power. For big jobs. Just like this. He raised the level only so high, as high as dared. The higher he went, the more it exhausted him. The more his own power frightened him. He only made it halfway up the rune before it was too much.
He didn't dare find out what would happen if he reached that 'x' at the top...
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Wed Jul 24, 2013 8:04 am
Lazarus had suspected a lot of things, maybe it was a raccoon, a rabbit, or even a large snake like from that anaconda movie. But a black cat, now that was unexpected. He could only watch as the lithe creature darted up the tree with the compass in it's mouth. If not for how feral it was behaving, Lazarus would have thought it was a domesticated breed of cat that they always see in cities and towns just by it's size and looks. Certainly looked out of place in a forest like this.
However, it was another unexpected sight when he realized that there are tons of cats on the trees. Red eyes widen in shock as he stare at the yellow eyes that stare back. For a moment, he was afraid to move, afraid that if he did, the cats would pounce on him any second. He had been scratched by cats before, and it was not a pleasant experience. The issue about the lost compass had been thrown far back into the recesses of his mind, now the only thing on his mind is that they need to get away, soon.
It was then that Basil moved in front of him, with his back facing the Sigel. Lazarus had no idea what the Frei was going to do, but it seemed like he was taking the initiative, so the incubus moved back a little bit to give the cobra some space. Then Basil did the most bizarre thing. He reached underneath his chest and... touched his rune. Behind the Frei, Lazarus could see his fingertips through the rune and the swirling smoke. He knew that the rune and smoke are intangible, but seeing a Raevan actually touching them, was a little unsettling. The red Sigel couldn't help but cringe at the sight as Basil's finger moved up, seemingly tracing his rune. And to his surprise, something was actually happening.
There was a soft hum, Lazarus reached up to his ear instinctively when he heard it. But it only lingered for a short moment before disappearing altogether. That was when he remembered the fel essence that was used to create Basil had something to do with sound, and glass, though he couldn't remember the specifics.
Jeremy too was shocked when he saw the cats glaring at them from above. There were a few just right above them as well as he looked up, laying there swinging their tails just a few feet above their heads. "Duncan..." He whispered the other's name as he gently tugged his sleeve, urging him to move away from the trees. "No sudden movements..."
Reaching to the utility belt on his waist slowly, he grabbed the hunting knife and gently pulled it out, at the same time scanning the surroundings, noting every cat on every branch and trying to devise a plan. Unknowing that something is already happening on the Raevan's side.
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Posted: Thu Jul 25, 2013 7:25 pm
Duncan couldn't quite see what Basil was doing with his rune, as events were unfolding rather quickly before them-- before he could usher the two Raevans to return to Jeremy and his side once again, though, Jeremy tugged at his sleeve. No sudden moments, he said; Duncan nodded once and took one meticulous step back, his eyes focused between the two Raevan and that army of cats. It was hard for him to decipher their little black figures against the silhouette of the forest, but while the other three seemed skeptical of the situation, Duncan was simply confused.
A high-pitched noise came from Basil, though Duncan could scarcely notice, but covered his ears for a moment to avoid the pang of noise. Afterwards, Duncan glanced to Jeremy when he noticed the glimmer of his hunting knife against the light of his flashlight. "Wait," he said hurriedly, trying to shoo the hunting knife back into its sheath, "Jeremy, these are just--" he squinted, "They're just cats-- they can't possibly hunt humans-- let's just go on our way. They were probably just scared from all the noise we were making."
He noticed that the two Raevans were backing away ever so close to them through the brush, and noticed their ribbons trailing past the surrounding flora, rustling from their place. Duncan lowered his voice and stepped a few marks boldly towards them. "Basil, Lazarus," he called out, hurriedly, "Get back on the trail. They won't follow us once we leave!"
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Posted: Thu Jul 25, 2013 7:40 pm
For a long moment after Basil begins his attack, all the cats begin to yowl and hiss as one. Their yellow eyes all slit into sharp crescent-moons, and the sound is momentarily overwhelming and unsettling. Then, as though beaten, they disperse in a hurricane of movement, fur dashing into treetops and behind bushes, clearly still existent but now quite hidden.
All except one.
The cat with Basil's compass blinks languidly in the noise, its eyes trained on Basil, sphinx-like and judging. As the party begins to move again through the dense jungle, the cat slinks along the tree branches, very clearly following.
The jungle growth is thicker here. It's hard to see what's just beyond. But at least, with the sun now almost entirely extinguished, the air temperature seems to be cooling.
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Posted: Fri Jul 26, 2013 7:43 pm
For a long while after, the cats stood firm, giving voice to their rage. Deep and bubble-throated growls that when raised in chorus, had a hair-raising effect on the listener. He traced his rune a little higher, the noise a little sharper, and that seemed to do the trick.
Some of them lost balance in the rush for cover, hanging from tree-limbs by their front claws and recovering with gymnastic skill. Others weren't so lucky, dropping into the bushes, twisting in mid-air with limbs spread like parachuters. Some jumped up in the air, seeming to hover there like Wile E. Coyote before skittering away.
However they reacted, they reacted as a single organism, the scene made eerier by the fact that to the insensitive ear, it would have all seemed totally without provocation. Basil stood silent in the assault of feline screams. Of piercing yowls and claws scrabbling on bark. They weren't the only ones affected. Flying insects veered off-course. Birds were heard beating out of the treetops. Squirrels froze momentarily on the branches. Even the plants seemed to shrink away from that ultrasonic pulse.
All except a single cat. The cat. The one with the compass, making no move to follow the others in surrender, its ears flattened and eyes squinting in the twilight. Not as though it heard the noise, exactly. More like someone was blowing in its face or it had caught a whiff of something bad. Annoyed and ready to lash out.
The others dispersed, but did not vanish, their tails flicking anxiously in the pelted darkness. Somehow, despite his weak vision, Basil and the cat made eye contact from nearly twenty feet away. An electric connection that made the tendons in his wrists stand out and his skin tingle with goose-flesh. He recognized that expression. He'd seen it once before, and for months after in waking nightmares. Eyes open or closed, in light or dark.
Basil had been so close to forgetting. Like it had happened to someone else. In another lifetime. Don't look down.
Mercifully Duncan summoned them before they did anything hasty, calling in a tone that—to Basil—seemed almost angry with concern. The way a father would warn a child to get out of the street when he has looked away for only a second.
Basil was strangely grateful for the distraction. He took his hand away from his rune, his fingers feeling warm and tingly from its ghostly energy. He rubbed them with the pad of his thumb, backing unconsciously towards the sound of Duncan's voice. Basil had felt somehow lost in those yellow eyes. If he'd kept it up, he may have cranked it up to the 'x', and nuts to the consequences. He probably would have passed out from the strain.
When the party re-grouped, he glanced over his shoulder one more time, and found the compass-cat to have vanished. He stared meaningfully at the tree where it had been, the group already arranging themselves in a crooked line as Duncan had suggested before. They forged ahead, an uneasy feeling settling over them.
Basil and The Other were quiet and contemplative, sharing a twin feeling of guarded skepticism. Like they were leaving behind a stalemate rather than a victory. A whole mess of unfinished business.
They went deeper into the thickening growth, the sun already too dim to be helpful. They probably weren't making very good time, or covering as much ground as Lazarus or Jeremy would have hoped. Night-time was practically upon them. And wherever Kyou was, night-time would be upon him too...
There was the muffled, chaotic sound of things shifting in Basil's backpack. His head was down, and his face was one of distant concentration. The Other had startled mumbling something about fifty paces ago. Basil was coherent, but straining to hear, the voice scraping at the forefront of his mind like toothbrush-bristles. In a weird way, it was getting louder without getting any clearer. Without realizing, he was muttering to himself in reply.
"What are you saying? I can't..."
He glanced up suddenly at the sound of a branch breaking. Movement in the trees. It wasn't anything new. Things living and breeding and eating in the upper canopy. But that one particular sound seemed almost deliberate. Crack.
Basil could hardly see it, but he knew the cat was up there. It slipped fluidly through the trees like a natural shadow, with whisper-quiet paws and shining eyes. The glint of the compass in its mouth. A disturbing reminder that somehow bad things always have a way of finding you.
The Other's voice was broken and chanting, both loud and faint, ("As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives. As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives. As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives.")
Basil spasmed once, his breath hitching in his throat. His brain was swimming.
A gunny-sack the color of sheep-leather, with a drawstring of frayed gray rope. Writhing with cats the way maggots writhe under dead flesh. The bag being hoisted, fist over fist. Swinging. Bringing it down on a cement wall with dull, percussive thwumps. Breaking. Mewling. Dripping red canvas. The fresh smell of devastated bodies. Turning the bag upside down. Grabbing fistfuls of the wet fabric with a squelching sound, like pressing your palms into a muddy pond-bank. Shaking it out onto the ground where all the horror tumbles out. Cats with broken necks, limp as socks. Cats turning their heads all the way around like owls. Around and around and around...
He started thumping his forehead with the heel of his hand. Not hard enough to hurt, but loud enough to be noticeable. "Stop stop stop..." He hissed, his face bumping awkwardly into Lazarus' backpack. He flinched as though he'd been burned, his eyes popping open. He stepped back, hands spread.
"Sorry! Sorry. I just..." He trailed off, the words drying up in his mouth. He swallowed and started fresh. "It's getting really dark." He observed. A passive way of asking if or when they would be making camp.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Jul 27, 2013 9:32 pm
As the chorus of yowling and hissing rang out from the hundreds of cats, Lazarus couldn't help but pinned his hand against his ears as the sound was rather overwhelming. The entire forest seemed to shook at the noise. Then in a loud flurry of movements and leaves rustling, all of the cats scattered from sight. All except the black one, which still had the compass in it's teeth. The sound was still ringing in his ears, but Lazarus grabbed Basil's shoulder and gently tugged him, urging him to move. The show of power was over, the Frei won over the cat clan. Now Lazarus is just eager to move on.
As the Raevans rejoined the human's trail, they moved in a single file formation for a while, with some distance between them. Lazarus was situated in between Duncan and Basil who is trailing at the end. Red eyes were alert as he looked around along the way, trying to find some sort of clue that could lead them to Kyou, and also just to make sure they were not tailed by those pesky cats from earlier.
Suddenly he heard some weird noises behind him and stopped in his tracks, but before he knew it Basil had already walked into his backpack. "Are you alright?" He turned around and ask, more out of courtesy than care. Then he was reminded that indeed, it was getting dark. "Here, why don't you move in front of me instead." The Sigel said as he circled around the Frei. Then unhooking the flashlight from his belt, he turned the button on to shine the trail ahead for Basil. If anything, the Frei could probably follow the light in front of him if he couldn't see clearly in the dark. "Let's go, they are leaving us behind."
Jeremy is leading the group now, with a compass in his hand just to make sure they are on the right track. Duncan still has the map reading task, although the dimming of lights would indeed be more difficult for both of them to see soon. Oddly enough, this small trail seemed to he heading exactly north all the way as well. Perhaps they are on the right track with Kyou?
However, indeed the dimming of lights as the sun slowly descends is a little worrying, especially when there isn't anywhere immediately within sight where they could set up camp. "We should make camp soon." He called out towards the rest of the party behind him. "Keep an eye out for anywhere that we could set up our tent." Taking out his flashlight too, he shone it around to try to see further into the forest.
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Posted: Sat Jul 27, 2013 9:45 pm
Duncan felt relieved once the two Raevans returned to the trail-- while they were more restricted while walking in a line on the narrow trail, and were no doubt slower than before, taking the precaution allowed him to focus more on tracing the map than looking out for Basil and Lazarus. While he wasn't nearly as effected by the high frequencies as Lazarus and Jeremy were, there was still a pang of hurt that stuck with Duncan at the back of his head. He blinked a few times and stared emptily at the map, at first, in an attempt to ignore it.
He focused his flashlight on the map so he could better see once Jeremy took out his own-- he also already seemed to have a compass out, as well, which Duncan was grateful for. He glanced around at the forest passing and stared wearily towards the bushes; while the cats were easy enough to ignore on their own, their presence assured that one of the Raevans were already quite shaken on their journey. The fact that their worried Guardian had let him go under the assumption that he'd be safe under the rest of his team's guidance made Duncan quite guilty-- while the villagers had warned them of the mythical dangers of this forest, Duncan never took the omens with much merit; he was only ever interested scholastically.
Duncan pointed to a sharp corner on the trail. "It seems like there's a wider passage once this trail starts turning east-- judging by the map, it's enough for all of us to set up a camp there-- the villagers might have also used it for a resting point. Unfortunately, it seems like it's still a good half-hour away. Will that be alright with all of you?"
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Posted: Sun Jul 28, 2013 7:28 am
The cat continues to follow as you make your way through the jungle, but its silent step makes it unobtrusive. If you look into the dark treetops, however, you can see its yellow gaze watching you, but otherwise, the cat does nothing.
There is a clearing nearby, obvious by the thinning of the jungle underbrush and the marking of a path just visible on the ground. There is the sound of rushing water nearby and the groan of several frogs looking for mates, although in all the noise, it is difficult to tell exactly where the sound originates. The bugs are out full-force tonight, zooming around your face and arms, chasing each other.
The sun just a tiny sliver of light. And, strangely for the jungle, the temperature has dropped quite a few degrees. There is an unmistakable chill in the air -- far, far colder than it should be. Your sweat is pricking your skin uncomfortably now.
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Posted: Mon Jul 29, 2013 12:15 am
"Here, why don't you move in front of me instead."
Basil blinked at him with a mixture of confusion and reluctance. The confusion said, 'why?', and the reluctance said, 'I don't like people standing behind me...' But when he considered that changing places meant Lazarus was now bringing up the rear, he realized two things.
Either Lazarus was pretty ballsy, or he was just that much happier taking his chances with the jungle than have Basil stand behind him all the way to camp.
"Let's go, they are leaving us behind."
"...O-oh!" There was an awkward half-second pause between Basil getting in front, and then hurriedly filling the gap. He faltered, his wings raising and spreading with a fragile twinkling sound. Lazarus would have to extra careful of the space between them. With wings like his, bumping into Basil could mean the difference between a friendly accident, and getting skewered.
The four of them trekked on, and Basil did his best to focus on the comfortable sounds of his party. The whisper of their clothes. The crinkle of the map in Duncan's hands. Their combined pulses and heartbeats. Sounds that gave him a sense of solidarity and oneness. They were a team. They were sticking together.
It was a damn sight better than listening to The Other, who's voice had become a radio station fading in and out of tune. Static and interference. The same phrase again and again.
("As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives. As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives.")
The Other knew the cat was still with them. Even without Basil pointing The Eyes at it, he could sense it stalking in the treetops, and the fact that Basil wasn't looking up and keeping tabs on it was bothering him. Meta-physically it was inconvenient in the extreme. Being inside your own body while someone else pilots it. Seeing your hands in front of your face, but someone else gesturing with them. Not being able to do the things you know will keep you safe in your own skin, because those decisions aren't yours to make.
Basil could sympathize. After their run-in with the cats, at first Basil felt a sort of comfort in sharing his Other's uneasiness. In having someone to be frightened with. Someone who understood your fear, because it was such a fine line from being yours.
But after a while of mucking through the forest—swatting mosquitoes and picking burrs off the tail of his ribbon—he was starting to get tired of it. Tired of the chanting and the melodrama. Maybe it was unusual, but the cat wasn't hurting anything by tagging along. It obviously had a vested interest in the group, but it was also keeping its distance. As time went on, it became easier to ignore. A little less intimidating. It gave Basil room to consider that maybe it was just curious, or maybe it thought they had food with them. Maybe it was someone's lost pet and felt more comfortable with humans around.
The Other chanted on, ghostly and distant. ("As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives. As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives. As I was going to Saint Ives, I met a man with seven wives.")
Basil shook his head once, quickly, like a flea-bitten dog. Duncan assured them that it was only another half-hour before they could make camp.
"Yayyy." He said flatly.
He didn't feel like they had accomplished very much today, and it was discouraging to think tomorrow was going to be a full day of traveling and hard work. And yet, at the same time, the sun was nearly gone now, and without the flashlight, you could barely see your hand in front of your face.
Basil inhaled once, sharply. A little gasp.
Being cold-blooded had some nasty drawbacks, not the least of which made him very sensitive to chill. Already he felt himself getting slow and sluggish. It was the kind of sluggish you feel sitting in a hot parking lot, or staying awake for twenty hours straight. A little frayed around the edges.
He had started angling himself closer to Lazarus, almost without realizing. The Incubus was arguably the best and most accessible source of heat, and Basil was drawn to it like a shark draws to blood. To do this, he was leaning backwards by inches, his wings coming dangerously close to poking range. He was awkwardly trying to maintain a safe distance between the humans ahead of him, and Lazarus behind him, but it wasn't working out. Eventually he got smart and fell back so they were floating side-by-side.
If he was cold or uncomfortable, he was being very stoic about it. No explanation given, no polite apologies. Just a presumptuous bid for relief, like Lazarus was a tree and Basil was using him for shade.
Just then, their flashlights shone on a parting in the foliage. A change in the footpath. He could hear the trickle of fresh water. His hands wrung together in the pocket of his sweatshirt. "Here?" He mumbled vaguely.
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Dangerous Conversationalist
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