Welcome to Gaia! ::

He had to look for shelter, he kept trying to tell himself. He had no choice.

Even so, the Wildtype found himself pacing the small space proffered by this shelter, his wings askance and his tufts jumping anxiously on his head. Every so often he would near the opening of the shelter, stare out into the blinding sheets of rain that sliced through the trees, and then retreat again only to resume his pacing. His guilt was like a reverse-mantra repeated over and over again - on loop - and it haunted him, chased him into this nondescript hovel far away from his fledglings.

His pacing took him towards the opening again.

His fledglings. Not only had he left them alone, but Nica was out there somewhere unattended. While he knew a good few of his darlings were safe, there was a small aberrant out there possibly alone, and this was the worst phantom of them all. Twistumbler hopped onto the ledge and was buffeted by an icy panel of rain, Thunderbird quaking him to his very core.

He needed to find her, he screamed at himself. He needed to find her and get back to his fledglings and protect them from Nature's ugly face. But what good would he be if he was killed by her wildness on the way? How on earth would he be able to care for his charges if he was thrown into the storm's almighty fury?

Discontented, Twistumbler could only hope, could only pray that they were safe for now, but he couldn't shake the vision of Nica out there somewhere, completely and utterly alone.

Twist was battling with the urge to leap from the hollow and back into the storm when Foxfeather made his entrance. Eyes often bright with joy were shining with something entirely different as they were turned upon the bedraggled Sentinel for but a moment's breath. The wildtype's mind was so strangled with thoughts that branched out into the rain that his countenance was little more than vacant; there was a wild-eyed look to him that was difficult to discern. Anxiety, anger, shock. It took giving his new 'house mate' another once over before it finally registered that he was not alone.

"Ah." A quipped in acknowledgment of the other's presence. It took a few more breaths wherein he pushed thoughts of Ossie and Nica and Song from his mind that he caught Fox's question once more. His wings swept outwards.

"Hardly, hardly! I can't deny a fellow his right to safety, now can I?" Twist thought it had all been spoken in his usually rushed and eager tone, but it came out more strained and perplexed if anything.

Twist took a light step away from the Deep Woods male as he made his way past him. Complete opposite of him, the minder edged towards the entrance, close enough to feel a soft wash of mist puff cold breaths against his face.

"Hardly," he murmured, pensive. He was wondering how far he could possibly get before the storm gobbled him up. Not very....

A shiver rippled through the Wildtype's feathers, his head ducking and turning to regard Fox again. He tried to squash his quailing thoughts for something more amiable, more him.

"Where did you come from, son? Thunderbird cough you up?" The area around his eyes creased in weary humor.

Twist laughed, a sound caught between delight and hysteria. His eyes kept flicking towards the entrance; he fought the feeling and settled down, finally, wings pressing hard into his sides.

His head bobbed self-consciously. Had he been that obvious? The minder watched the other, allowing the hollow to settle into a quiet. They were in here for the long haul, he figured, and if he didn't vent (even a little), he'd be nose-diving out of the tree with nary a glance backwards.

"Well...a little aberrant darling of mine - well, I'm a minder, see? - went off on her own, and I, well. It's difficult, really. I know my other dears are safe, but I have no idea how she is." Twist's eyes lowered as he gave his chest feathers a half-hearted preen.

"I'd look for her, but," he motioned towards the outside with a sad chuckle. He wanted to keep from picturing all the horrible things that could happen to Nica, but it was a difficult task when you were worried.

Twist was taken aback by the fellow's stern words. His damp tufts swept down, the area around his eyes pinching them narrow. A wave of discomfort came and went with a good bit of shuffling.

"She's a child," he tossed back, voice colored with chastisement. Nature played a blind hand and when one life was taken, others would move on, but Twist was the type of Sentinel who would embrace mourning, that grasped hope in an unrelenting talon and refused to let go. As Fox doubled back to caulk his earlier words with another, the minder's feathers smoothed; he still did not relax, however.

"I'm sure she has. The fledglings as of late are a clever bunch!" Twist turned towards the hollow's opening again.

But I am not. How did I let her out of my sight?

He cleared his throat, "I'm Twistumbler, by-the-by, dear boy. What were you doing out and about when the clouds gathered?"

"The Thunderbird hails more than just the Spring this time, I'm afraid."

Subconsciously, Twist was surprised with himself. He was being more docile than the situation called for. There was a weariness settling in his bones the same way he couldn't shake his edginess. It were as though he were being stretched in too many directions at once, mind unraveling but remaining a heap in and upon itself. He was buzzing, eyes wide but tone calm and mind filled to the brim with too many thoughts to sift out just one. Nica's face kept coming to the forefront.

So did his want to leap into the gale to find her.

Perhaps it was a blessing that Foxfeather had entered this cramped space; he was really the only thing anchoring him to sanity.

"It is, it is," he chattered with a breathless sigh. "But the wind herds us - a tiny fledgling such as Nica could have been tossed any which way by the storm."

A stunted ripple was cast over his body. Twist stood up, "I should go look for her. I should --"

A hiss of lightning streaked through the outside. The minder was set aglow for a moment, the brief light casting eerie shadows against his wide eyes.

"But she's not a just a 'single, foolish aberrant'," Twist said defensively. That single phrase stuck out of the entirety of Foxfeather's calm explanation, and he clung steadfastly to it before the rest of his lecture had time to sink in. "One loss to Noctua is one loss too many. It's my fault Nica" - he said the name pointedly - "is out in this soup anyway! If I had just, if I had just made her stay...the clouds, the clouds, wasn't it obvious?"

His voice tapered off, the slow drip of a drying stream of water. He spoke more to himself than to the company with whom he shared his shelter with. Twist's glassy eyes bore out into space, lost in thought, drowning in thoughts. The Deep Wood's words tinkled within his mind like a collection of bells, swelling into a crescendo of clattering that rang true, too true. The odd light in the Wildtype's eyes wavered and, like lightning to a tree, shattered into a million sparks that were snuffed out beneath the Fox's clawed foot.

Twist looked away, ashamed.

There was a balanced importance between the two of them, Nica and he. She would carry on the livelihood of the Sentinels and he would teach fledglings to do the same. He wanted desperately to find otherwise - she was a child, more inexperienced with life than he. She deserved to live in spite of his own stupidity. Twist was hard pressed to relent and submit to Fox's claims.

But relent he did, sitting down as he did.

"I am tired," he said almost inaudibly.