Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 5:28:36 GMT -5
Point Hope, Alaska was their destination. Population between 600 and 800 people. Tyr hated airplanes. He always preferred to fly himself to where he needed to go. But as he gazed from the window of the small craft and saw only white, the necessity of the situation was obvious. Inflated opinion of his abilities Tyr may have, but not even he dared take wing during a snowstorm in the Alaskan winter. The storm raged around the plane, rocking it with turbulence every now and then. Most passengers were calm, but one was noticeably not so.
The plane shook with some turbulence and Tyr squeezed the armrest of his chair, closing his eyes and trying to think happy thoughts. He thought of the last time he had seen clear sky. Tyr had been glanced up right before ducking into the door of the plane. The sky had been so blue, the ground so steady beneath his feet. Tyr could not fathom how humans could stand flying on planes if they were all like this. He felt sick to his stomach with every jolting lurch of turbulence. There were several others on the plane but he did not stop to consider any of them, trying to hunker down in his seat. "Dont crash, dont crash, please oh father, do not let this plane crash," Tyr moaned to himself, his stomach threatening to disgorge its contents as the plane jumped yet again. "Shut up!" Someone behind him yelled out as they smacked the back of his head.
Worried and sick as he was, Tyr did not even respond to it, merely continuing his prayer silently, though he did open one eye and look about. Everyone else seemed to be doing just fine, as if this was just a normal part of the flight. Perhaps it was, but Tyr would not know. This was his first flight on a plane, of course.
What would he do if the plane went down? Die? Would he be stranded in the middle of nowhere with no help on the way and frigid Alaskan temperatures threatening to freeze his wings if he were to attempt to take flight? Could he even get 20ft from the ground before losing control in the storms?
Tyr mentally kicked himself for thinking such thoughts. At this rate he would jinx himself. "I'm not even the least bit frightened." Tyr announced out loud, managing to keep the tremor from his voice but still sounding more like he was attempting to reassure himself of this fact than any other. The smack this time was a bit softer, sympathy, he supposed. He tried to act as if being on the plane did not bother him, but Tyr visibly trembled, his face creased with worry.
Last Edit: Dec 24, 2012 5:29:10 GMT -5 by Tyrant Creed
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 24, 2012 5:48:05 GMT -5
“Drink this.” Rae said, crouching in the isle beside him. Of course she recognised Tyrant Creed, how could she not? Their paths had bumped twice now and neither time had been particularly pleasant. The first they had been complete opposites, working against each other and, truth be told, she did not like him in the slightest, but the second time they had been forced to work together. This was their third meeting, and it was not completely by chance. Rae had learnt something recently, though she knew better to put herself in dangerous situations with the daemon she genuinely believed that it was be easier to ask him for the answers to her questions than try and find out on her own. Naturally, the questions had a lot to do with her Uncle, who seemed to be stalking her…
Still onto that later…
The plane bounced and jumped and she rode it out; like a surfer on a colossal wave. Rae smiled at him, totally understanding his fear- she had been stuck on enough boats to know that some contraptions seemed unnatural and terrifying. Clambering over him, with the grace of a gymnast she sat in the seat beside him and strapped herself into it. There she paused to look out of the window. “Can’t you just stop the storm?” She asked, casually. Over the last two meetings she had seem his powers; she had been amazed by them but she did not feel that she had seen the worst that he could do.
Rae looked different from their last meeting; she was not a skinny waif, but had learnt to live in a wild way. She was a survivor and had learnt the best ways to survive. This worked well with her, she looked curved, slender and lithe, but with a true sense of beauty about her now. Her eyes sparkled, though that may have had something to do with the enjoyment of seeing him suffering, and her hair was clean and bouncy in its sweet pale pink curls.
Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 6:12:55 GMT -5
Tyr looked at the girl suspiciously, forgetting all about the plane he was on. “No, I would rather not.” Tyr told her, calmly refusing. He knew her. He knew what she could do. He knew he didn’t like her. He knew he didn’t trust her. Though her name still eluded him, Tyr could tell something was different about her. Was her hair different? It was clean, but he didn’t think that was it. Oh well, he thought to himself, dismissing the thought as she climbed over him to take the seat adjacent to his own. Mentally he sighed, knowing there was little he was willing to do about it, in reality he conjured up a pleasant smile and plastered it onto his face.
Yet another bout of turbulence rocked the craft and shouting could be heard from the cockpit. Tyr could just barely make out the words he heard but it sounded as if the pilot and copilot were arguing, the pilot emphatically insisting that the flight was cursed, that evil rode their craft. This made Tyr shift somewhat. He was sort of the son of the devil, after all. The passengers began whispering to each other, all asking the question in many different ways but all pretty much asking the same thing. Those things being what were the two arguing and making such a fuss about? The copilot insisted that this was just any other ordinary flight, yes with heavy turbulence, yes perhaps they should have waited out the storm before taking off, but it was not, in any way, shape, or firm, cursed by god or the devil.
When the two quieted all of a sudden, the whispers among passengers grew louder. Some, like Tyr, had managed to hear bits of the two’s argument and looked very worried. Some of the more religious types even went so far as to make a sign warding against evil over their chests. This had Tyr rolling his eyes. The next bout of turbulence shook the plane hard enough that Tyr nearly went flying and would have, if not for his seat belt. Once settled back into his seat, Tyr made sure the belt was snug, grateful he had been wearing it, his stomach turning over in his chest as he got the feeling that they were descending rapidly.
Tyr shook his head at her. “Father told me a long time ago that it would be quite a while before I unlock the full extent of my abilities.” He informed her “Just like what I can do now, I could not do as a child. I have yet to grow into my full potential.”
There were brief sounds of struggle from the cockpit and the copilot’s young voice shouted from the pa “Everyone, prepare for crash!” he said “Prepar-“ he began to say again but his words ended with something that sounded a mixture between a grunt and a yelp. Tyr’s eyes widened and he gripped the armrest with enough force to cause it to be crushed between his fingers. He gave a sickly smile to the girl sitting next to him “You heard the man.”
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 24, 2012 6:23:54 GMT -5
She put the brandy to her lips and knocked the amber liquid back. Rae had learnt one of the best ways to survive this world was to be able to handle your drink. She often frequented bars and holes in the ground waiting upon her mark, and one looked rather out of place in a bar without sweet amber nectar in one’s hand. She placed the glass in the drop down tray and watched him as he struggled with his sense of control.
Of course, her eyes followed many others to the cockpit as shouting was heard. It was only a small aircraft, not as small as the one that journeyed between Wales and Ireland, mind you, but a small one. It was easier thrown about. Her eyes came back to Tyr as the accusations were made upfront and she shook her head at him, grinning a little coyly. “You do like to cause a drama don’t you?” She told him, a playful tone to her voice. Rae had become seriously more confident since he had last saw her. Still shy by nature she was often over looked by people, but she had put herself in Tyr’s path, there would be no point her doing so if she was going to sit quietly.
Absently she touched her seatbelt as the turbulence rocked the plane, and she tightened it just a touch more around her flat stomach. Even in the big royal blue hoody she ware it was clear there wasn’t an ounce of extra ‘meat’ on her bones. As she did so she listened to him explain his abilities. ‘Father’. He suspicions were true then, he wasn’t just any old daemon, the man they had met so briefly at the diner during that awful hour of her life was something more than a dirty daemon and here sat his son.
The crash alert came through on the PA, and Rae rolled her eyes a little. This was not false bravado, this was out of annoyance. She put her tray up, locked the seatbelt tightly into place and folded her legs into her body. “If you got a grip on yourself, you could deliver the plane to the ground safely.” She told him; “I’ve seen you handle worse things than this.”
Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 6:48:00 GMT -5
Tyr rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Such things take energy, you know.” He told her. “And I am not willing to carry an entire plane full of passengers to port on my own.” Tyr paused momentarily before continuing “Besides, I think we’ll be fine. Yeah, we’re gonna be oka-“ He never finished that sentence.
Even though he was braced for the impact, Tyr had had no idea of just how brutal it would be. He expected it to be somewhat similar to being in a car crash, and perhaps it was, but on a much, much larger scale. In retrospect, it was much more like being hit by a charging, runaway locomotive. The plane smacked against the ground and Tyr felt the impact rattle through his bones moments before he sank gratefully into unconsciousness, not quite expecting to fully return.
The dream felt so real. Tyr sat in a meadow, looking at a small girl who was picking flowers. He looked up and watched the sky change from blue to a dark purple in moments, stars twinkling in accompaniment to the mournful song of the moon. When Tyr looked back down, he noticed the small hands folded across his lap; they were his own. He was a small boy again. When he looked back to the girl, he found not one, but two. Now that Tyr looked, he could hear their giggling. He instinctively blushed. The two girls were Trance, his slightly younger twin sister, and Svanja, his childhood crush. She was never in his dreams. Not once, though she did make the occasional appearance in a nightmare. If she was here then…
Tyr lowered his eyes as Svanja spoke, just as he remembered. “He looks like one of the birds from the playroom!” she exclaimed, a hint of Russian in her in inflection. “You can quit your gawking, you know.” Trance told him confidently, looking slightly embarrassed of her oafish brother. His eyes watered, bits and pieces from his memories of the plane coming back to him as he looked up. “I’m so sorry,” he told them both, “I must be dead. And if you’re here too, Trance...” He trailed off, a single tear sliding down one cheek. “I failed. I’m so, so sorry. I was supposed to protect you, and I failed.” Tyr whispered, looking away from his sister, ashamed. Trance walked over to him, setting down the flower she had been holding, and went to take his hand comfortingly. He gasped at the touch. “You’re cold!” Tyr exclaimed, and at that moment, he was jolted back to consciousness.
He awoke screaming. A loud, inhuman sound that radiated pain and misery, his fearful aura blasting out and settling over all within miles like a heavy winter coat. There was white, so much white. The snowstorm still raged around and he struggled from his seat, tearing out of the belt. As he came to his feet, Tyr looked around, noting the wreckage of the plane and screams of survivors. A torso absent its limbs and head was lying not too far from him, intestines steaming in the cold air.
Tyr began to limp towards the main part of the plane when he stumbled and noticed he could only see from one eye. He reached up and his hand came away wet with blood. For one fearful moment, he thought his eye gashed out and he rubbed furiously at it until it came open, having been covered shut by snow and frozen blood from the still bleeding gash on his forehead. With a sigh of relief, he began to search about for the girl. Tyr may not have liked her, but a familiar face after such a tragedy would be a comfort.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 24, 2012 7:00:46 GMT -5
The plane crashed into the ground.
Rae had been thrown forwards against the seat in front of her. She remembered the pain of biting into her tongue, the feel of the blood in her mouth. She remembered the rib shattering pain of the seatbelt as it held her in place. This ride was worse than any fairground roller coast she had ever been on and Rae did not like it. She remembered the glass she had been drinking out of shattering against her shoulder but she did not remember much after that.
**
Her eyes rolled open, the dark cylinders staring up at the bleak cold sky. Rae blinked. The world felt like it was passing in slow motion, she could hear the muffled cries and screams of people around her and she could practically feel the pain and sorrow like an elephant on her chest. Slowly she went through the motions. First she wiggled her toes and fingers, sharp pain shot through her body, heating her torso and she groaned with the pain as they moved slowly, cautiously. Then she took a great breath in; this pain was worse, it seared through her making her cough and splitter. Before she could control it she swore and yelled out. This inability to breathe without pain meant she had probably snapped a few ribs, if she was lucky that would be all.
Rae flexed a little and drew herself to sit up- she had been thrown a little away from the wreckage sight, there was several cuts all over her and her small frame was battered with bruises. Perhaps the worst of it was the shrapnel. It stuck out of her side- realisation came as to why breathing was so slavering. Rae spat a globule of blood into the snowy white ground and swore again. Her hand came up and pressed against the break in her skin; a small curved rod sticking out from under her bust on the right side- she was bleeding from the site and it made her feel dangerously dizzy. She knew she needed to get the metal out, she knew she needed to stitch up the wound- but right then she was not sure she could move without the pain taking over her logical sense of mind.
She saw Tyrant a little away, raised her voice enough to speak; “If you laugh at me…” She told him, a rasping sound in her throat; “I might truly hate you.” She told him, slumping a little in the snow and trying to work out what best to do.
Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 7:11:39 GMT -5
There was a little girl lying not too far away from him and she seemed to be attempting to crawl somewhere, sobbing and crying out for her mother. Tyr carefully picked her up gently in his arms after tearing a piece off his shirt off and wrapping her leg, noticing the gash along her thigh. Even a brief examination of it had told him that there were still pieces of shrapnel inside. He picked up one more survivor before he saw Rae and made his way over to her, this one a grown man who he slung over his shoulder. The man groaned and Tyr suspected he had a few broken ribs.
Rolling his eyes at the Rae, Tyr remarked sarcastically “Yes, because I’m a cruel man who laughs at the sight of injured children.” He set the man he was carrying down for a moment to catch his breath. That was odd, he thought, until he felt and found a cracked rib of his own. He offered her support, holding out his free hand.
“We appear to have crashed onto some sort of frozen lake.” Tyr remarked to the girl loudly over the storm after a couple moments of looking about. There was snow and ice everywhere, the cold wind and falling snow buffeting them with a tenacity that, quite frankly, worried him. "Obviously we’re going to need to find shelter!” Tyr shouted to her above the shrill wind. His gaze settled on the main body of the plane. Already, a small group of survivors were assembling there and it seemed relatively intact and not too on fire.
With a small grunt, Tyr lifted the man he had set down back up over his shoulder. He would not leave him here to freeze to death. Or worse. The man moaned as Tyr held the small girl closer, shifting his weight so he would drape more comfortably across Tyr’s shoulder, and he set off for the plane. They would have to wait the storm out in there.
Tyr stepped gingerly over strewn body parts and corpses, trying not to jostle his two burdens too much. The girl shivered in his arms and he glanced down once, noticing that her blood had already soaked through the tattered piece of his shirt which he had attempted to bind her wounds with. At this rate, the gash along her thigh would not have time to close before she bled out. He didn’t even bother to glance back to see if Rae was following.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 24, 2012 7:24:03 GMT -5
Rae had not expected him to care for the survivors, she had not expected him to pick up a child either, but as he did so she was left with nothing to do but watch. As his hand came out to help her up she took it, wrapping her fingers in his and getting to her feet slowly. It pained her, it sent sharp terrible pains all the way through to her brain and she swayed a little on her feet finding it hard to focus on his words.
She paused for a moment, pulling her hoody away from the torn skin and growling with the pain it caused her. Then Rae pulled out the shard of metal that was dug up in her ribs. She dropped it to the ground and watched for a dull moment as blood spoiled her jumper. Rae did not pause to let it dwindle her life source. She unstrapped her belt and tore off the sleeve of the jumper, wrapping herself up quickly. Her ribs protested with the tightness of the strap but the tighter she could get it the quicker the bleeding would stop.
Her mother had been a doctor, Rae knew basic first aid. If they made it back to the plane there would be medical supplies…if she could find her backpack she had other things there that may be of some use. Her eyes darted around her, against the white there was lots of smatters of colours- dark for bodies, red for the blood that seeped out of them and then, there- green. Her backpack. Rae let Tyrant get ahead; hobbling over to it she pulled it up onto her shoulder.
Then she followed, putting one foot in front of the other and taking her time to do so. The last thing she wanted to do was fall. Rae found she could move more easily on her feet, it involved less upper body action after all. “Here- give me the girl-“She murmured as she came up alongside him. She had her own wounds of course, but with adrenaline pumping through you it was surprising what feats you could still manage. The child was young, small, maybe three or four; she reminded Rae of Caleb- Rae had taken care of her brother like a mother would and she knew how to manage with children.
Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 7:31:49 GMT -5
Tyr shook his head at Rae’s offer to carry the girl, politely refusing. “No. She is my burden and I have willingly taken her on.” Truthfully, the little girl reminded him of how Trance had looked as a little girl in his dream. He refused to give her care over to another when he was still strong enough to care for her himself.
Once inside the main wreckage of the plane, Tyr more or less unceremoniously dumped the adult male to the floor, which was in fact the former ceiling of the plane, and lowered the girl much more gently. He looked around at the other survivors. They appeared tattered wretches and Tyr chuckled to himself, realizing he did not look much better. He removed the girl’s soiled makeshift bandage and tore another piece from his shirt and cleaning her cut out with some clean snow.
The man groaned and Tyr just shook his head at the sudden stab he felt in his chest, the girl’s wound was much more urgent than his and Tyr’s comfort. Tyr tossed the bloody snow aside, quickly putting down pressure with the bunched up cloth from his shirt. He tore yet another strip from his shirt bandaged her up as best he could, tightening a tourniquet about her thigh.
That done, Tyr turned his attentions towards Rae, glancing at her side then back up at her, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. He was relieved, to be honest, that she had managed to take care of herself. One less problem of his. Tyr pulled a nearby luggage case to himself, taking out a thick winter coat and draping it over the shivering little girl. Then he gathered a few seats from the plane and stacked them up. Borrowing some flame from the lit fires of the plane, he set them alight and moved the man closer to it. Other survivors began to flock to and gather around the fire, warming themselves and grunting appreciatively. “Little to do but wait out the storm, I suppose.” Tyr remarked thoughtfully.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 24, 2012 7:44:15 GMT -5
She nodded when his glance came up to her. She was fine, she would manage, her wounds – while sore – were nothing more than she could handle. Perhaps she was still in shock, perhaps she was in denial, but Rae had faced some horrible shit in her life and survived a plane crash was not going to stop her. Her determined motivation was one of the reasons Rae had survived so long.
She bent in the upturned plane, letting him potter around, gather things and lighting a fire. She slumped to hands and knees, dropping her backpack down on the side. She could not afford to lose it, everything she had remained within it. Privately she was glad Eli had not come on this trip with her, he was better off staying at home for the time being. Had he been here, there was no doubt in her mind that the little dog would be dead. She rummaged in the shelf below her knees and found the medical pack for this part of the plan, tugging the little green box out of the broken casing she crawled across to the man Tyrant had lesser care for. She used a little of the gauze within it to clean and dress the man, laying him more comfortably in a position of recovery. His shoulder was broken for sure, he needed medical attention that she could not provide him.
The fire warmed through her; and her eyes went to the other survivors- as the embers grew and the little dark cabin became more orange and warmly Rae noticed there were other people in the lodge, people still strapped to their seats, hanging upside down. Dead, clearly dead. She caught Tyr’s eye and nodded towards the back of the plane and what she could see. This was a haunted place to sit and wait for the storm to pass.
Laying down a little, on her good side, Rae managed to cover both herself and small child with a blanket she had found. It wasn’t about species or supernatural ability anymore, it was about survival. Something Rae was considerably good at. “There’d be a radio.” She told him, in a quiet voice. “In the cockpit.”
Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 7:59:11 GMT -5
Tyr smirked at her and gestured towards where the cockpit used to be; there was nothing but a gaping opening to outside there now. "Oh, how convenient. Too bad there is no cockpit anymore." he remarked sarcastically, poking into the fire with his finger and shifting things about.
One of the other survivors cleared his throat and Tyr looked up at him, clearly noting his discomfort at sitting beneath the corpses whose faces were frozen into their final grimaces of agony, but unwilling to move away from the warmth giving fire. "Well," Tyr began, looking up at them "They don't look very happy right about now." he remarked offhandedly, looking back down at the man who had cleared his throat. Of the 20 or so people on-board, there were only 6 survivors, not including Rae, himself, and the two he had carried to the plane.
The man who had cleared his throat shifted a bit, chewing on one corner of his mustache and tugging his wool cap down tighter onto his head, everyone's attention directed towards him now. "Um, ah, Im Jones. Nice to, uh, meet you, everyone." This he said awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable. Jones steeled himself and spoke again "Ok, look, we need a plan. We're stranded in the middle of God knows where," Tyr smirked at that, noting the small silver crucifix the man was rubbing in his hand "with no way of communicating with anyone. I've seen movies," he said, gaining more confidence "and I know no one is gonna find us out here. So we got to make our way to a town or something." Jones settled back, his piece spoken.
Tyr glanced at Rae, curious as to how she would react to this.
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 24, 2012 8:10:13 GMT -5
”If you want to die carry on.” Rae said bluntly. “If you go out there you go out there in the middle of the storm you’ll get hyperthermia, if you don’t get picked off by a wolf or fall into some thin ice or into a snow tunnel.” Her words were blunt, her words were without kind or care, it was better to stamp out any sort of split off at this time, they would be better if they stuck together. “Sure, if you want to go, give it a goddamned try, we’ll all enjoy the show. They-“ She pointed to the dead people, sounding a little heartless, “-won’t hurt you-“ Her point fell on the outside world. “That will.”
She manoeuvred herself awkwardly, strapping up the muttering man’s broken shoulder, trying to keep it maintained and painless. He thanked her slowly, his teeth chattering but there was sweat on his brow. If he broke a fever they would have to leave him.
Rae’s eyes went to the missing cockpit, and she slowly dragged herself to her feet. Rae wandered up the plane, it groaned and ached under her feet and she had to pull herself up it using the seating at some points. From the back of the plane she pulled lose several packets of nuts and the bottle of brandy that was there. Then she made her way back to the rest of the people, passing around the food and the booze.
Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 8:25:23 GMT -5
Tyr smirked, suppressing the urge to burst into laughter. Rae spoke the truth and that was that these fools likely wouldn't last ten minutes out there. He, on the other hand, would be perfectly fine on his own. Looking down at the little girl, Tyr contemplated leaving them all for a moment. Likely, without his help they would eventually succumb to the cold. Or perhaps end up eaten by wolves, Tyr added.
Obviously, Jones knew just how right she was, too, for his face turned a nice shade of beet red. A thickly bearded man who sat next to Jones loudly guffawed and slapped Jones on the back. "She sure reamed you out, Jonesy!" he chuckled for moments afterward. "I'm Murphy, by the way." Murphy announced to everyone. "Shut yur trap, Murphy!" Jones shouted, turning on Rae angrily as if he meant to do her harm. But at the sight of Tyr sitting next to her and the little girl, he seemed to deflate. "Of course I meant after the storm ended..." Jones muttered.
Tyr rolled his eyes, speaking sarcastically "Of course you did." he smirked at the man. "Now, how about you keep quiet while the adults come up with a real plan." With that, Tyr turned slightly so he wasnt facing the flustered man anymore. "Any suggestions?" he asked Rae.
Last Edit: Dec 24, 2012 8:25:43 GMT -5 by Tyrant Creed
Post by Rae-Star Berii on Dec 24, 2012 8:37:19 GMT -5
She merely smiled at the man, he was allowed his opinion. She turned her attention to Tyr as he addressed her once more. Did she have any suggestions? She had a few, but they all relied upon Tyrant coming back, they relied upon him being good natured and it relied upon him being more human than she thought he was. “It’s okay.” She told the two men, who appeared to know each other in the way they were toying with each other so jovially. “I knew what you meant.” She said, softer and a little sweeter then as she smiled at him.
Her eyes came back to Tyr; “The storm could go on for days-“ She told him. “While moving would not be a good idea, in anyway shape or form we can’t sit here for days. We’ll run out of food and things to burn.”
She looked at the survivors, looked at their wounded faces. “What do we have amongst us to help?” She asked them all. Every one of them must have a skill set; every one of them must have a purpose. Hopefully they weren’t all businessmen. By now she had come to the conclusion that the little girl’s mother was dead. “My names Rae.” She told them, gently. “I’m a student of engineering.” This was a lie. “If we can find the black box, I can make it work and get a message out.” Her eyes went to Murphy and Jones next, as they were the two louder members of the survival group.
Post by Tyrant Creed on Dec 24, 2012 10:18:16 GMT -5
Tyr yawned, examining his fingernails. "Call me Creed. I'm run the biggest criminal organization in downtown Chicago. We deal in H, coke, meth, and prostitution. We've currently spread about as far west as Cali and as east as the Carolinas. Ah yes, I am also the son of possibly the richest man in the world, his wealth is unofficial, of course. And did I mention I'm trained to survive in extreme climates and in the art of killing things with my little finger?"
He sat back, twirling one strand of hair around his finger. "Personally, i dont like your plan, Rae." Tyr tilted his head slightly. "The storm should be over come morningh." he told her, brushing snow from one boot. "Besides, who wants to go looking for a black box in the dead of night, in the middle of a snow storm?" he paused for a moment. "So. We wait till morning, get a look around, and then make a decision. Once we have all the facts."
Tyr looked around, noting the toughened faces about the fire. Jones spoke quietly "Me and Murph here, we're oil riggers, headed up for work. So.. yeah.." Another man spoke up, appearing of Eurasian descent with thick mutton chops and the scars of a brawler. "Names Abram. I was also headed up for work, maybe as a logger." Abram fell quiet again. He seemed the brooding type. One man, a bookish fellow with cracked glasses, spoke up next. "Um, hi. Im Jameston. I'm an accountant, mostly. Me and my wife," he glanced at his wife who sat next to him. She squeezed his hand reassuringly as he continued "We were headed up to Hope to visit my wife's folks. She's part native American, you see..." His voice trailed off then and he looked down. Silence permeated the air as no one else chose to speak up.
"Well then," Tyr began with a yawn. "I think its about time I head to sleep. Someone should probably keep watch. If we're anywhere near where I think we are, there are most likely wolves about." His voice a bit shaky at the thought of wolves, Abrams volunteered to take the first watch and took a seat where he could keep an eye on the hole in the plane. "I'll take second." Jameston offered. "Third." His wife. Waving his hands dismissively "Yes, yes, yes, well, I will go last. Good night." With that, Tyr rolled over and lay comfortably away from the fire, soon deep asleep.
