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A huge fir tree has tipped over some few years ago, and is leaning rather heavily against its twin. Where the two trunks cross, the thick branches almost weave into each other and create a natural shelter, at least from the worst of the elements.
The intertwined branches sometimes creak noisily against each other, and there is quite a lot of swaying and some wetness, but it is still a lot better than trying to huddle up against a random tree-trunk.

Merlin was not the only sentinel that had taken shelter in the snarl. In fact, the aberrant had already been there, and was beginning to finally feel some feathers dry off when the tawny, wet hunter hurled himself for cover. A few droplets made their way to her, and instantly her mood went from tolerant to sour. The fact that he seemed to be a fairly vocal type didn't make it any better.

Sandstorm was not a sociable bird. In fact, she goes out of her way to avoid most social interactions, including picking this unlikely spot to wait out the storm. Dune had expressed his dislike of the fir, though it wasn't as though he didn't have a choice: she honestly felt that this was the most adequate place to keep safe for miles, and if he wanted to find another place while the rain beat harder by the minute, he was allowed to. Instead, he scouted the driest nook he could find and stayed there. The fact that it was undesirable to most was only an added bonus for the ranger, though it seems now that she was proven wrong.

Annoyed, she rolled her eyes at his moan. "Looks like we're stuck with a whiner, Dune."

The lani clicked his beak in agreement, just as agitated by the newcomer as his owner.

"Though personally, I would think one would be thankful to have found a place this far out into the East for shelter against the rain. Perhaps I've been proven wrong." A glare had worked its way through her chastise, intensely staring at Merlin for disrupting her peace an solitude.

Dawn had been on the way to her usual watching haunt to watch the rain when the thunderstorm had surprised her. Dodging small branches had been somewhat easier than orienting herself in the rain, and she had soon found herself half-lost and off-course.

By the time the Shadow had regained her bearings, she was already too far out eastern to turn back and try to go home.

Luckily the Thunderbird chose that moment to strike in the not-too far away distance, and light lit up Dawn's surroundings, letting her get a glimpse of shelter. Hurtling in-elegantly towards the half-fallen fir tree, and crashing even less elegantly into the branches.

Quickly getting a clawhold, she looked up to see the other two. "Good day to you?" one seemed decidedly grumpy, and the other far too cheery and Dawn had never been good in social situations anyway. Anyone could see it was turning out to be a lousy day.

[XD;; rofl, I've been here since the first reply, but every time I had a reply written someone else had posted. <3
AT LAST.]

Happily oblivious to Sandstorm’s biting commentary and disgusted look, Merlin turned to greet the newcomer, who coincidentally, also happened to be female.

“Oho! Good day, good day to you, too, m’dear! I am Merlin, most pleased to make your acquaintance…” The amiable male nodded kindly at Dawn, beak parted in a roguish grin. “Though that, miss, was quite the elaborate entrance!”

The pompous Hunter puffed out his chest and feigned losing his balance on the untidy mesh of branches below his feet in a comical, lighthearted gesture. Then he glanced at the two ladies, realized something, and did a double take. “But ho! I find myself in a most unfortunate compromise; for you know who I be, yet I know not the names of the angels before me.”

Ah, yes, in retrospect, it was a rather fine night, to be in the company of two Sentinels of the fairer gender. Meeting new friends -especially lovely lady friends- was Merlin's ideal thing to do. Hopefully, the storm would persist for quite some time...

Both trees were shifting and groaning in the wind at this point, making the shelter tremble. And as the branches moved and scraped against each other they deposited small showers of water on the perching Sentinels.

If one of the inhabitants in the tree should happen to look down right now they might see movement below. That black shape must be a cave... And is that a Sentinel standing guard in the mouth of the cave? It's hard to see through the heavy rain, but it sure looks like it.

Merlin had already marked Sandstorm down as a feisty one, but he would never have dreamed that she’d snap at the poor female in such a way. Why, one could never treat a lady –any lady- so, it simply defied proper etiquette. And had she very nearly called the lovely Shadow mus-brained? Such an unladylike insult! Such fiery temper! Merlin was quite intrigued…She wasn't like the others, no, she was a being difficult, playing hard-to-get...Perfect. He welcomed a challenge, he was about to say, as he turned and opened his beak – to find that she had fallen out of the tree!

He had to go after her.

Giving a quick nod to the remaining female, Merlin leapt from the fir, plummeting after the other. It was rather thrilling, really, to be falling alongside a mass of crystalline raindrops, each and every one of them bent in a perfectly aerodynamic contour. The wind whistled past Merlin’s ears, as he dived. The Hunter paid the blurring treescape around him no particular mind, unconsciously dodging and grabbing at the tangles of wooden claws and fingers that reached up to bite at his feathers. He was in his element now, Merlin was. In many ways, this chase was similar to all the other ones he had made in his lifetime, only, he couldn’t afford to lose this one. His mind (and heart) were set on this, and he couldn't, just couldn't, bungle this up. His pride wouldn’t allow it. He was the Hunter, and she was his prey.

((Posting in light of Quirm's taking leave))

Oof. The howling of the wind faded away into silence, as the world, too, faded momentarily into black.

Merlin wondered if he was dead. If he was, then it must be a rather ironic sort of dead, that his life would be taken on the Hunt, for it was the same place where he had killed countless others. Perhaps he ought to express remorse, or something, now that he was claimed by the same entity. Yes, that was it…Maybe he was dead. Maybe he’d find his parents somewhere in this dark chasm of nothingness –he hoped he wouldn’t- …It was sad, really, that his mum and dad did not know if their only son was alive or dead. Even worse that they might not care. He’d never see them again…Regrettable, that their last words, their parting words, had been ones of defiance, anger, and disappointment on both ends.

Coming to a state of conclusion in his dazed mind, Merlin's feelings of regret revealed a sudden realization. He did not hate his parents, as he reflected, only what they drove him to become. No, it was only himself, his pride and arrogance, that kept him from those simple, yet so elusive words. I'm sorry.

It was too bad he wouldn’t get a second chance…or would he?

He was, indeed, vaguely aware of something sharp stabbing him in the wing. Said sensation grew increasingly painful as he gradually managed to regain his bearings. Said pain, plus aforementioned thought, would not have been possible had Merlin been dead.

The world was coming back into focus; Merlin blinked blearily, to find himself gripping desperately onto a shaking branch. How long had he been out of it? Likely only a few moments at the most…The impact had knocked the sense out of him -or perhaps, knocked some back into him. Why had he taken off like that? Plunging willy-nilly through the trees was definitely not his idea of fun, so how had- oh! Oh no! The female! She had fallen!

Merlin gazed below, scanning for a sign, a wonderfully sleek body clinging, as he was, on a branch. He found none. She couldn’t have fallen to the…the…The word was so horrible, Merlin shuddered. The Ground. He did not know. He could not see past the mass of spiny branches. Despite his throbbing wing, which was, had he bothered to look, sticking out at an odd angle, Merlin attempted a mighty flap.

It was a bad idea. The Hunter immediately sank heavily onto the branch below, doubled over in agony. His wing, which had been tingling unpleasantly, exploded in a white-hot burst of fire. Waves of pain rippled past his feathers, the needles that had been pricking his wing becoming more like bolts of thunder. Bright blue eyes clouded over, his third eyelid reflexively sliding shut. His beak fell open in anguish, emitting piercing shrieks, until his voice grew hoarse, and he screamed no more.

The pain began to subside, as Merlin winced and gasped and clung to the branch. It was his lifeline. He wished that he had not been so foolish, so love-struck, so blinded…