Welcome to Gaia! ::

Blackness descends on the campsite as Rivener goes into his tent. The humidity deepens and clouds begin to roll through, choking out the stars and moonlight and threatening rain. After an hour, rumbling begins in the distance, closing in. There is the smell of rain on the air, and the team should prepare for it coming.

It's over two hours before the camp hears the sounds of the rescuers for Isobel in the jungle, and the villagers break through to the camp somewhere around midnight, when Rivener is awakened again for his turn to the watch. His wings' soreness has gotten worse through his sleep, and now they have begun to feel like stone attached to his shoulders. If he has ever had sore muscles, the feeling may be similar to the day after a hard work-out -- the feeling of getting worse before anything can get better.

The rescue team has a stretcher with them, as well as the usual paramedic equipment, and they only manage to get a few quick words to the team as they begin to strap the still-unconscious Isobel to the stretcher. She is still pale, her breathing still shallow.

The head of the rescue expedition gives Rivener and Ronan a look of surprise and mild disgust. He says nothing, but the meaning is communicated easily: with these two strong men, how did this delicate, ivory creature get so neglected as to have suffered this fate?

He gives Axel a look of sympathy.

"Rain soon," he says, gesturing skyward. "Tend to your fire."

And just as quickly, they are off again.

Once the watch had been established Ronan slipped off into the tent, only a short time passing before he was asleep. Isobel was being taken care of, and there was nothing more he could really do. While the skins and his experience in the water were worrying, he had firmly put them mentally into the place of "in the morning." He'd be no use to anyone half dead from sleep exhaustion.

There is no comfort in the morning, and perhaps Axel even remembers the terrifying call early in their trek that may signal both of the most important women in her life are not in a position to comfort her.

Perhaps sensing this, it is not long after sunrise that the villagers return, and the man so obviously distrustful of Rivener and Ronan comes to take Axel back with him.

"Come," he says over any protest. "It is not safe here."

And soon enough, they are gone together.

The rain darkens the jungle, but the clouds are thick enough that it seems they may have to move in the rain rather than wait the storm out. Jungle weather is temperamental, however -- maybe another spot will be drier?

As the rain slicks across the selkie skins still hanging on the opposite shore, it becomes obvious there are more now than there had been last night. Something, or someone, must have added to the collection while the group slept.

The rain patters over the river, and tiny hands reach up to catch it. The river is also still awake.

This was a classic "Damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation. Either they crossed straight over and touched down in the prowling grounds of whatever was putting those weird skins on the branches (because yes, Rivener finally realized they were skins and not towels), or they tried to float downstream a little further and chanced getting their raft pulled apart by those little hands. Riv knew he wouldn't fare very well in that cold river water, so for him the choice was obvious.

"Across we go, then, Ronan." It was just the two of them now, though Riv couldn't blame Axel for leaving. He would expect anyone to leave to keep and eye on their Raevan!

The two males grabbed that makeshift raft which was, Riv had to admit, rather poorly-built and carried it to that handsy water. The Scorpion justified it by thinking the raft only had to really carry ONE person's weight. He gave Ronan a nod and pushed into the water, grimacing as his wings tried to give a reflexive flap of pushing wind, earning nothing but soreness and aches, no push at all. Eventually their little skiff was water-bound and Riv hopped aboard, holding up his ribbon in one hand so those little river children or whatever they were didn't grab him.

"Here," he said, handing Ronan one of the paddles, which was only a pair of long sticks. "Let's go." With his ribbon still wrapped around one wrist, Riv grabbed his own paddle and started pushing at the water to get them across.

No. No.

Ronan dashed one of the small hands with his paddle, mouth set into a hard line. As pitiful or plaintive as it might sound he wasn't going to trust those words. Not after what had happened to Isobel and what he had felt before in the water. Might there be an actual being in need down in the river? Certainly. But there was no way in hell he was going to listen at this moment.

"Ignore it," he muttered to Rivener, guiding the raft towards the other shore. First they had to get to land. Then they could figure out what to do next.

It was hard to ignore the hands that were clearly not a hallucination, now trying to grasp the mud of the shore to pull the man and Raevan back into the water. The crying only intensifies as the two get off the shore and are now closer to the skins on the trees.

The faces of the dead selkies seem familiar to Ronan. Too familiar...

The sobbing from the river, he suddenly realizes, sounds very much like a voice he may remember from the ocean... a family member whose voice was once raised in laughter and teasing. A family member who maybe always wondered, Ronan, why would you leave us for so long?

The river weeps.

Don't leave us!

The skins are slick with rain but still dried. Some of them are hung, stabbed through with branches, and some of them are nailed to the tree bark. Most are expertly skinned, but some have gashes in them that tell of terrible wounds.

Inside the jungle, there is a distant scream.

Another team, perhaps?

Rivener startled as something hit the water, turning around to see Ronan settling after having thrown something. Apparently he wasn't having any of those water shenanigans any longer. Just as well, in Riv's opinions. He wanted to get the hell outta here. When the other man started folding the skins, though, Rivener grimace. "Dude, what the hell." He waited impatiently, thinking it would be best to just get away from this place, unaware what significance those skins might hold. But Ronan seemed intent so he let it happen, keeping a close eye out.

Soon enough the selkie was ready to move on and Rivener raised an eyebrow at the theory. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised that sirens are real things, considering." He huffed a sigh and started into the woods.

That sudden scream had him stopping dead, though, perked and looking towards the sound with wide eyes. "You heard that, right? ...Someone could be in trouble! We have to help!" If it was another team, that means other Raevans were in danger. Rivener couldn't just stand by! He altered course to head towards the scream, hacking away at branches and vines that blocked his way, grunting with discomfort as his wings throbbed with ache, his arm stung with burn.