My mouth pops and blows as I lazily watch the endless mountains. Sometimes, Pluuit graces me with his works and breaks the stone with rising forests. Still, it's better than the Thunderstricken Wastes. There's bird spotting to be done here, at the very least.
The boredom is still very much here, but the claustrophobia of the platform pops my eyes more poetically right now. So much repetition of mountains and forests. Again, I'm happier to look at trees than endless grey gravel with a sky to match. Valleys of luscious greens broken up by an equally complementary art pallet of greys.
It's so much nicer than a ceaseless stretch of dusty gravel. Grey and green, much better than grey alone. However, I am quite surprised by the lack of settlements thus far in our journey. No fortresses, castles, lonely buildings or Ravineer settlements. Our path is quite the quiet one. Though I suppose that's intentional for those above us in the airship's hold.
Turning my gaze to the sound of shaking bars, the oxfuine catches my attention. Paps seems to have heard it as well, but he otherwise doesn't care. He goes back to his snoring. I roll my eyes and carefully hop over the wagon's side. The chain catches on it, drawing a sneer from me.
"Gat na file." I tauntingly remind the oxfuine, the cage's key so very close to feeling my paw-pads. Crossing my arms, I lean against the wagon as my chain otherwise forces me to do. I quickly pat my kit, wondering if I have the tool in question on-hand. Would make for an easy snicker, getting a growl out of this humanoid beast.
My eyes come back to her properly as I leave behind my attempt at humour. Narrowing my eyes, I look closer at her behaviour and mind the small things. I am wrong about her intentions? Her ears, the answer is in the ears.
She's not trying to escape from her cage, not entirely anyway. She's picked up on something that we and the technology of the Acadamites haven't. What are her ears picking up? Deep pans of echo catching wonder. The furriness of it all might as well make them sieves, too!
Can barely hear myself over the hired hands, animals and airship.
Whatever it is, she won't stop whimpering, and she's clearly paranoid about it. I want to shut her up as it is getting annoying. But respecting instincts like these is what keeps me and Paps alive... I want to know *what* is bothering her.
At the very least, I understand that something has upset her and I want to guess that it's the surrounding magic. Even for me, Paps and our hired help, talking or not. It is uncomfortable to be around. Like an ever present knife, even if the wielder is smiling nice and genuine. Unlike us, though, we made a point of weakening her before she then spent quite some time in magic-blank lands.
But her eyes are not showing discomfort, they're showing fear.
Is she worried about low the airship is flying? We are flying under the low cloud cover of the snow-belt after all. An admittedly strange choice for cargo-carrying aerial navigation, but I understand the benefits. It keeps us out of sight of Union airships, omniships and most other kinds of aircraft. Her focus, however, is on one of the mountains.
Well, as best as her focus on it can be, anyway.
Leaning over and grabbing my musket, I jab my father with it, "Paps."
"Trouble?" he asks, calmly rising from the light slumber. His spike-gun makes its distinct, heavy snap, and he steps up onto the wagon's edge. However, it's hard to see beyond the immediate, tightly packed crowd and the magic wall around us after them. But a loud, stony crunch gathers everyone's attention. Rock?
"Shhhh!" someone lets out as quiet overtakes the packed platform...
The airship shakes and I stagger away and against the wagon. Pneumatic hisses and metallic groans cover the platform. It happens again and mortal screams join the mix. The airship jostles in an instant to the right and I fall to the ground with a yank. Steel banging chaos erupts, and it nearly tramples me.
Escaping the beast-backed stampede somewhat, I notice how I am slowly sliding across the platform... The airship's being turned over!?
"HEIYA!" Paps snaps as his ironically named harness proves its new name. He hops and reaches for me. We move even faster along. My eyes lock onto the death-grip chain metal snake.
"PAPS!" I scream as the wagon pulls me with it. Knocking down the men or throwing them overboard, I try to break the chain. Paps grabs my musket and he slides down to me with a set brow. Reaching up for him, I struggle to take my focus off the wagon as it teeters overboard. Impact on wood. Impact on wood!
"STAY CLOSE!" he shouts, grabbing me and firing his weapon. The chain shatters open. I scramble into his arms just as the wooden transport vanishes into the forest. Its splinters cut wounds into my ears and draw no blood.
Nearly everyone else and the cargo have already fallen off. Thankfully, Paps saved my gun and I take it into my tight-grip hands. It's coming closer. The end of the platform, its end is coming!
He holds me and we slide off the platform as the magic scoop fails. I focus on his calm expression and I try to emulate it. But, holding Paps tightly, I close my eyes as the air pushes against us. We lose contact with the ground and I try to brace myself.
Paps barks in pain as I am forced down against him.
"Paps..." I groan as the rest of the cargo rains around us. Most is thankfully far. Too much stabs near.
"OSIBINDAH!" someone cries as mania spreads among us survivors. I push myself up, blinking with no proper focus.
"Paps!" I let out as I scramble out of his protective roll. Throwing aside my gun, I grab his underarm and pull as hard as I can. I can't see what's going on out there, but I can hear it. These roars, the call just now. An army of bugs is bearing down on us!
Gunshots go off all around the forest. Dying off as quick as they flash. Screams and roars replace them with growing speed. Some humans are just staggering about with concussions before giant arrows staple them into place. Everywhere is the same, even the left over Acadamites are being overrun.
My only chance is to run with Paps!
"Paps, if yau caaan staaand, pleaaase!" I beg him. What can only be a ballista bolt shooting past me. It shatters and the shrapnel lashes against my unyielding back. Warmth spreads across it.
"Go! Find safe!" he snaps as he gets up and shoves me. Firing his gun for a moment, a piece of tumbling debris knocks him down. My eyes widen in shock at the splatter of blood from his mouth.
"PAPS!" I scream, "I'm nat leaaaving yau!" I tell him as I drag him once again. His jaw adjusts with a groan, a blessed sign.
Thankfully, I manage to glimpse light in the distance. There's a safe passage this way. If not, we can at least hide beyond it. Grabbing Paps' belts and buckles, I drag him with increased fervour. The roars grow louder and I feel like they are now surrounding us!
I have to get us out of here; I have to... I have to! I have to!
"Pleaaase be akaaay, Paps!" I cry as we reach the hole. Taking a last glance out at the forest, I spot enormous shadows. Less indescribable darkness and more claw-tipped with each step closer!
Taking Paps' gun, I point it up at them. Going down by his neck, I keep one arm around it and pull. A snarl grows across my face as my efforts do the same. We're nearly through, we're nearly through-
My foot loses ground and I counterbalance myself with him!
Snapping my gaze to my back, I spot the sudden drop. We only have a thin, small platform to hide on. But the roars are getting closer, funnelled closer by the stubby tunnel. Heaving him through the gap, I place him near the edge and drop to his side.
I keep his gun pointed at the hole as all the noises just become those of the osibindah...
Tears flow down my face as my weapon grip shakes dangerously. However, as it gets quiet, I realise how loud I am being. Biting my arm, I huddle closer to Paps, hoping he'll somehow wake up. Darkness blocks out the halolight, but I refuse to look away from the hole.
At least, until my peripheral catches the edges of something... Circle-faced and cylindrical, a clutch of stone, serpentine things move about the air. The gun snaps into the direction of one of them. Jangling metal from the other side stops me from firing. Shaking and trembling, I stare at the flat face of the manipulated rock.
An earthy, rusty smell comes through the hole along with a three-digit limb... Armoured completely in crushed, rusted helms. The insidious claw pats the platform. It curls with grasping want too close!
If I shoot at this arm or these constructs... We die... All I can do is keep my gun pointed at the arm and hope nothing happens.
It knows we are here? Does it know we are here? I've heard stories of these serpents, how they can see even with no eyes... Does it know we are here!?
No...
The limb pulls away, and the constructs follow its departure. My heartbeat refuses to go down. My eyes are not drying even as the forest turns quiet. Letting my arm out of my mouth, I drop the gun. Panting, the tears flow more openly and I look at Paps as he lies motionless on my right.
The osibindah are pulling back. Our hired hands, beasts, and the airship crew are all dead... But, even then, there's noise in that forest. The howls of Undwote's Pack of Seven await us beyond the hole...
"P-Paps..." I cry as I hug him to the sound of the inquisitive God of Death.