Day 4: On the hunt (James & Moira)

[jamesthorn]

James isn't okay. He is bleeding. His head hurts again, and his leg is throbbing near his ankle, like he ran through some barbed wire. Danger, I'm in danger is the first thing he thinks when he opens his eyes, blinking back the blurriness in front of his face. It feels like he's been drugged, but it may just be that his body is overcompensating for the massive pain he has in his left ankle and his chin is now bruised from where he hit it on the ground while being dragged away. The last thing he remembers, from being taken, he remembers the anger, fear on Moira's face, but she couldn't reach him.

If that wasn't bad enough. James attempts to move now that he's awake, but he finds that he is tied up, both hands bound behind his back with rope that digs into his skin. There's a wall to his back, keeping him from falling over. Slowly, he takes in his surrounds, licking at his bottom lip, it's swollen and crusted with dried blood.

All the lights are dimmed enough that he can't make out much of his surroundings, but he knows he is alone. Who knows when whatever took him will return to finish what it started...

Comments

[jamesthorn]

"At this point, not really sure." James isn't sure escaping this place is worth all this. "Do you even know where you're going" he asks.

[chasingtwisters]

Moira rolls her eyes, but she has to admit, it's nice to fall back into this old routine, bickering with James as though they weren't trapped in hell. Except that she suddenly remembers and goes back to being on high alert, even with James bitching over her shoulder. "I don't actually, because I left the map on the table by my bed when I transported us both here to some kind of labyrinth without David Bowie and his magical pants. Now shut up, I think I hear something."

When James finally quiets down, she thinks she hears a faint buzzing.

"Oh fuck no," she groans.

[jamesthorn]

James' ears perk up at the sound of buzzing from a distance, from something else meant to kill them both. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he asks the universe. He is tired. He misses Grant's stupid Cornettos at this point, and Alex's ability to annoy him five minutes upon reporting to work. He wants to see Demetri, and he wants to sleep in his own bed. His ankle hurts. He needs a bath, and he wants food. He is tired.

"Look, we need to get out of here," he says, shifting so that Moira will put him back down on the ground. "Before the trolls, you said you may be able too..."

[chasingtwisters]

Moira carefully eases him on the ground as the buzzing starts to get louder, ears perked not unlike her cat form as she tries to guesstimate the distance between them and whatever is trying to kill them this time. "Well, this damn place doesn't give up, I'll give it that. Come on."

She loops an arm under his shoulder, hoping he can keep up with the pace she's setting, brisk while trying not to cause him more pain. This is beyond ridiculous, she thinks, weary, in desperate need to see her family and friends, to have a goddamn beer without having to think if it's poisoned. And she's tired of this place hurting her and James. She's tired of having to fight for her life because of the asshole that sent her here.

"I know," she says, recalling what she said about finding a way out. "But first we need to, oh holy shit."

She brings them to an abrupt halt at the sight before them: thousands of beautiful, seemingly cute pink birds swarm around the empty bones of another troll. The buzzing is coming from the clash of their minuscule teeth against their beaks. Moira feels the remaining color draining out of her face.