Post by Annasiel on Aug 19, 2021 19:48:06 GMT
They had been walking for a good while before something happened. It was a shame, to break the silent comfort with the harsh nature of reality, especially when it came in the form of a howl more human than inhuman. Another team? A person in pain? Perhaps, one of the strange beings they were prepared to meet, a lifeform from another world? More howls broke out, following the first, and the austere quality of their resonance sent shivers down the speaker's spine in a way that had little to do with the storm. It was human, but it was also not. A human sound stripped of all that made it so, stripped of its joy, its sorrow, its community and intellect. It was the deep, soul-wrenching cry that, to her ears, carried only a single quality.
Violence.
Immediately, Oota sprang into action, slipping her bow off her back, notching a single arrow, and dropping into a deep crouch. Her eyes scanned the ridge above - there, at the top, a gathering of shapes darting back and forth above the group. The more they moved, the more the landscape seemed to shift. The Speaker stared a moment longer than she should have. Never before had she seen the scenery itself move like that, sliding across her view in hypnotic layers. It took the knight's cry to move to break the spell, to make Oota realize what exactly she was looking at. The rising, ululating howls of the beasts were dislodging the snow. This was an avalanche, and if they didn't move, they would be buried beneath it.
Her attention switched back to her group instantly. The knight was digging herself a hole in the wall - she would be fine. Oota wasn't even sure if she needed to breathe. The Mayan had wings, and the machine was just that - a machine. It would doubtless survive being buried, and even if it didn't, would she lament the loss of an expensive toy if it meant saving genuine human lives? That left the soldier, the African man. He was the most vulnerable. Even now, he hadn't shown any power, feeding the growing suspicion that he was simply a normal, mortal man.
"Jump, Mostafa!" she shouted, wheeling on him.
The last thing the others would see before white hell descended was Oota drawing back the string of her bow, firing the arrow into the small of the soldier's back.