Chapter Six:
Capsized
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We were two ships in the night
Passing by in the pale moonlight and capsized
We were two ships in the night
Hell bent on trying to survive and capsized
-"Capsized" by you+me
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"Why do you bother staying?"
Her voice was raw and bone-tired, like she hadn't used it in a very long time. It was hoarse, almost. Was she getting sick, perhaps?
"I have nowhere else to go."
"That's a piss poor excuse if I ever heard one. Who in their right mind would voluntarily decide to stay on this hellhole of a wet rock? And I don't want to hear your charity spiel about me 'being lonely'," she said with a sigh. "There's something more that you're not telling me."
There was. He'd given her the bare minimum the other day, but there was still more. He didn't believe it appropriate to share; not when she was starting to sound wound up tighter than a spring, ready to explode at any given moment. Not answering was probably going to do the same, regardless. Eventually, she fell quiet. It wasn't long before he noticed her jitteriness had grown in the span of the silence. It wasn't long after that when she finally got up, grabbed a bow, strung it quickly, and snatched up a quiver chock full of arrows and stalked over toward the door. He scrambled to his feet, intent on following. If she was going hunting, he reasoned he should at least follow—if not to help, then to learn.
He was brusquely put off when she snapped at him that she was going out alone. If he followed, she wasn't going to slow down, and he would be responsible for getting back on his own and she wouldn't help him if he got lost.
Allen hesitated on the threshold, weighing his options. He didn't know the island as well as she did, but he felt confident enough he could keep up this time around. He faltered for too long, just enough to grab his own makeshift bow and some arrows of his own making, before realizing she had left. He was alone in the doorway, with no clue where she had gone or what direction she had taken. The former exorcist trailed back inside with a pool of annoyance growing, swelling, in his chest.
She treated him like a haphazard child; giving him harsh options one day and none the next. She treated him like he was nothing more than something that got in her way more often than naught.
And yet she had her soft moments. He remembered the shipwrecked victim she had rescued, brought back to her little homestead, tried to save…and even when she had failed, she still held a funeral pyre for the man. She had cried. She could feel more than just annoyance, irritation, and snappish anger. He's seen it before.
But she chooses not to show it often.
She was a confusing enigma all on her own. Allen just couldn't figure out what made her tick, what flipped her switch and so suddenly.
Allen decided to eat the rest of the food in the cave, hunger pangs clawing at his belly like rabid little Compies. If she was going out hunting, she was bringing back food. At this point, he couldn't care what she thought. If he was going to be treated like a child, he would very well act like one, if only to spite her.
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Long hours passed. He'd occasionally go outside to see the passing time by using the sun for direction. She had left near mid-morning. The sun was dipping low enough to cast bruised purple-and-grey shadows across the island. Soon enough it would be dark. Allen wasn't entirely worried. She had been gone just as long before. Sometimes she'd bring back food. Other times, she would come in running with the raptors, or riding atop Báthory or Carmilla. She rarely did the latter, however; it was difficult for the larger rexes to get into the canyon.
There hadn't been as much food as he first believed after he finished it off, and he was somewhat regretting eating it all in one go.
He kept telling himself Ash would be back soon. He went to bed telling himself that. He woke up the next morning feeling less confident in regards to that train of thought. The hours continued to tick by, and the longer the day dragged, the antsier he felt. He found himself wandering further away from the makeshift homestead whenever he left its confines, only to double back with guilt eating away at his gut instead of hunger.
The second night passed and the third day came. The third day came and went, with the third night rolling in. He slept little that night, jumping at imaginary sounds, believing it to be Ash returning in the middle of the night, only to find he was wrong. Ash still hadn't returned by the dawn of the fourth day.
Allen left early that day, setting out through the tangled forest below, glimpsing the eerily silent silhouette of the island's ages-old palace and the hastily erected shantytown through feeble sunlight and heavy morning fog. He trekked through the dilapidated ramshackle ruins, their upkeep less than exemplary, jumping on occasion when the stray rat skittered by or a boar charged through the empty muddied streets. He climbed a few of the higher points to get a view of things, but found he'd never see past the surrounding mountains, or the looming palace encroaching upon the entire shantytown. So, he summoned his Crowned Clown and the familiar weight of the cowl and cloak settled on his shoulders. Granted, it wasn't as versatile in straightforward mobility like Lavi's hammer, but it helped with the travel, now that he couldn't access the Ark.
Ascending the mountains wasn't a straight shot, but he got up there quicker than climbing straight out. He stood on the threshold of the gates that led deeper into the palace grounds, but that didn't stop him from admiring the rundown, yet still grandeur sight of the structure. Or what he could make out, anyway. The fogs weren't clearing, making visibility more difficult than he would have liked or anticipated. Allen turned back toward the palace, hoping to find a trail that would lead further down into the island.
Hours passed and he eventually made his way into another forested sector beyond the palace. He was pretty sure he was near the beach, but he once again lost all sense of direction. He sighed heavily, recalling Ash's words to him days before, telling him that if he left, it was his responsibility to find his way back to the cave.
I don't know if I'll be able to find it, even if I wanted again. Not without her. Or the raptors.
He highly doubted the latter would help him, and the former…
Allen pushed out any of the darker thoughts about the woman, hoping that she was all right and simply cooling down somewhere on the island. He was hoping she wasn't hurt…
The life on the island simply teemed about and he had one too many close calls with the local wildlife than he cared to admit. From the lithe and vicious Dilophosaurs, the chirping bird-like Compies, to the demure and skittish Dryosaurs, there was very little left in terms of 'normal animals'. Smaller creatures like rats or rabbits still thrived, and on occasion, he'd cross paths with some of the deer, but anything bigger were all but nonexistent. Ash once told him that as far as she could recall, the dinosaurs hadn't always been there. There had been snakes and wolves, more deer, boars, and rabbits abound. Then the dinosaurs came, and it changed the pecking order. They took over as the dominant species, and the mammals were just barely clinging to life here.
Travel through Yamatai was treacherous and it wasn't a late revelation to him. High rising and steep cliffs; deceptive trails and walkways; and the amount of climbing he had to do to get from one place to the next…at the very least, it challenged him. He just hoped it wouldn't kill him. He vaguely recognized some of the old war bunker ruins as he came upon them, and he knew by now that she tended to squirrel away in the small, confined spaces that the larger predators couldn't get into. Although, to be fair, they would charge through the crumbling structures anyway. It didn't stop the smaller ones from following, either.
Allen searched top to bottom, finding no signs of the woman—or so he thought at first. He was almost ready to move on, when he caught sight of something from the corner of his eye. At first glance, it looked like a ribbon. On closer inspection, he realized it was the lengthy sash Ash always wore—a faded rusty-red piece of cloth that she normally wrapped around her hips and waist, letting the rest of the length dangle about. Or at least, it was the tattered remains of what was left of the thing, but he recognized it all the same. The longest piece had wrapped itself around a piece of rebar, fluttering in the slight breeze.
He quickly snatched it up and noticed there were fresh specks of blood on it, and the edges were torn and frayed—more so than usual, like it had been shredded to pieces, torn away from the main sash. The longer he remained in spot, the more evidence of a struggle he came to notice all around him—a broken column, unnaturally bent rebar, smashed concrete, claw marks gouged deep in the structure, spatters of blood here and there. No body, so far. That much was a relief, but not by much.
Allen followed the trail, leading to the top floor of the bunker, and found himself coming to the end of the blood trail underneath a makeshift zip line. He mounted it, using the length of clothe he had on him and it led him to another section of the bunker, which would otherwise be inaccessible to him. Freezing, stagnant waters greeted him at the bottom once he released from the speedy mode of travel, as well as a few preserved corpses, gaunt with age. They didn't stink, that much he was grateful for. Too old, probably.
He quickly passed them all with a queasy, sickening feeling to his stomach. The blood trail was gone, he came to realize. He didn't even have to travel that deeply into the structure to figure it out. She could heal just as fast as a Noah, if not faster. He was lucky there had even been a blood trail to begin with. He could recall coming through this place before. Broken down machinery, collapsed rooms, and ominous messages of the previous Solarii inhabitants were all that remained. There was all that and a few discarded weapons and empty bullet shells littering the floors.
By the time he found a way out of the structure, the sun was low on the horizon and setting fire to the sea in the far distance. Deep reds and heavy golds painted the world. Grey shadows were creeping along the mountains and in the forests. The wilder night life animals would begin stirring soon. He didn't fancy another run in with the Compies, or worse. He trusted Báthory and Carmilla to not attack him, so long as Ash was around. He had less faith that they'd honour keeping him alive if they caught him on his own again. They were, after all, still animals deep down, intelligence or training notwithstanding. They were also very big, very toothy, and very hungry predators.
That was important to remember, too.
Allen eventually made his way back into the forest gullies, traipsing through long overgrown trails that had probably, once upon a time, been maintained in a neat and orderly fashion. With no one to properly clear them out, however, the forest was reclaiming the land inch by inch, leaf by leaf. More ruins, more remnants of human inhabitants, and more run-ins with some of the less aggressive animals of the island passed by. The sun had finally set, and the dark of night came creeping in, like a predator all on its own. With the approach of night came the rains, hiding under the cover of the darkness. He hadn't realized it until the first fat, wet drops hit him on the head and a torrential downpour was abruptly underway.
He found shelter under the ruins of an old building—if it could even be called that—directly across an old motor pool, where some large trucks sat. Another aging building sat further down the way, lonely and decrepit, besides the motor pool overhang. With the rains here, that meant no fire. No fire meant he was going to end up wet, cold, and miserable until they stopped, and even then, everything will have been soaked thoroughly, so still no fire.
I shouldn't have left. The only thing I have to go on is what's left of her sash, and that blood I followed. It's not even there anymore, not with this storm washing it away now. She could be dead by now for all I know…
He hugged himself a little tighter, hands jammed into his armpits as he glared sullenly out into the darkness. He could barely see the motor pool when he'd first taken refuge in the broken down structure he was squatting in, and now it was a hazy silhouette.
But wait…
He squinted, straining his eyes. There!
He saw a flicker of light, inside one of the vehicles. It was there and then gone in a flash, like the weak fluttering of a candle's light going out. He leaned forward expectantly, hoping it hadn't been a trick of the eyes.
Please. Please let me have found her.
She was the only person on this island—snippy attitude be damned—with any knowledge about every single thing on this little island. Like it or not, she was his ally, constantly tentative status notwithstanding.
The spark came again, the glow fading and coming back like a heartbeat. He almost felt like his own was beating in time with it. When it sputtered out a second time, he rushed out, feet slapping noisily in the pooled waters across the tarmac. One of the puddles he splashed through was deeper than expected and his foot caught the lip of broken asphalt. He went down hard with a sharp pain jolting down his ankle and up his leg—the very same one that had only just recovered from the bear trap not that long ago. He felt his ankle give an angry, ugly little pop and it hurt more than the fall did. He ended up slamming into the side of one of the trucks.
He nearly panicked and summoned his claws when he felt something grab him from behind almost as quickly, nearly yanking him fully upright.
"Shut up and lean on me or you're going to get us both killed!"
He recognized the terse voice and settled almost immediately, careful not to put weight on his still-throbbing foot and ankle. He stumbled with all the grace of a newborn kitten, leaning on the smaller woman until he was shoved forward toward the side of the truck and up into the cab above them. He had to haul himself up into the seat. Ash was right on his heels, carefully closing the truck door instead of slamming it home like he almost expected her to do.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a hand clapped itself over it, and his immediate thought was, HOT!
Her hand was burning hot! Unnaturally so to the touch, but he was soon concerned with the way she squeezed his face, hard, and he winced with a soft noise of indignation.
"Shut up," she hissed at him gruffly, her voice low and husky. "Those fucking Carnies are here."
He stiffened and glanced out toward the windows surrounding them. Her little nicknames, while there was something left to be desired in most of them, were much more helpful to recognize than full names. 'Carnies' quickly translated into Carnotaurus, and a brief recollection of a monstrous dinosaur with a stubby bull-face, horned protrusions over beady eyes, and a nasty predilection for attacking anything and anyone in its vicinity came to mind. All that, and the fact that they had a camouflage-cloaking ability almost scarily akin to Carmilla's was another unsettling factor to remember. It wasn't as advanced, but it was good enough for the big bastards to get too close for comfort and by then, it'd be too late.
He was almost expecting to see the aggressive predator to come stalking past the truck, sniffing through its stubby snout, but he saw nothing but darkness outside. There was too much condensation within the cab. It was fogging up the glass windows, and now that he was in it, he realized how much warmer it was inside than it was outside.
It clicked suddenly like a bolt out of the blue. Ash was the one producing all the heat. So much so that it was heating the entire enclosed space around them. He had suspected on many occasions that her body heat wasn't entirely natural with how high it always seemed. But in this colder environment, it was easier to pinpoint now. Given with how uncomfortably warm her touch was, it was no wonder she didn't like touching him or being too close if it wasn't necessary. It made sense how she could simply stick her flesh and blood hand straight into a fire, and not be burned. The earlier flickering, the same that had drawn him closer to this truck—she was a walking, talking, living, breathing furnace with an immunity to fire.
No wonder she also had such a temper.
He reached up, slowly, and carefully pried her hand away and it fell away unusually quickly, although she hadn't quite moved away from him.
"Where?" He said, as quietly as he could manage. Her ears atop her head flicked while her focus remained on the door's window. She had something on her head, but what he couldn't tell.
"They're about two hundred meters out, just beyond the tree line. The big bastards have been tracking me the last day or so."
The rain beat a constant, steady rhythm upon the roof of the overhead. It was the unsteady, borderline laboured breathing that he picked up on in between every watery drumbeat that threw him for a loop. Ash slumped against the seat, and he took in her appearance, as best he could in the dark vehicle cab.
'Dirty' didn't quite cover how she looked. She appeared as though she had crawled through the mud, the rivers, a slurry of corpses and grime, hell—a warzone would probably have been an accurate description of what she had just dragged herself through. When she turned her face, his breath hitched. She had a piece of her tattered cloth around both her eyes like a makeshift bandage. He couldn't tell if it was another piece of her sash or not, but he suspected it was.
"What happened to you?"
"Dilos. Caught me by surprise when I was trying to get away from the Carnies. Spat in my face, poison's taking its sweet time leaving my system and I can't see that well still. I barely made it here in one piece. Raptors are MIA. Same with the big girls. The Dilos left, but the big'uns out there…" She shook her head, took in a heavy, wet-sounding breath and suddenly broke into a fit of wet-sounding coughs. He froze, unsure of whether he should stay back or pat her on the back. She wheezed when it was over, slumping in her seat again. "How bad's your ankle? I heard you fall."
"You—you could tell all that?"
"I'm temporarily blind, not deaf. My earballs still work, you know."
He made a face at her. There was still some room in the cab, so he pushed away from her and carefully pulled his legs up onto the remaining seat. He nearly took up the entire length of the bench, leaving little space for her to sit. She didn't seem to mind.
Deftly, she found his ankle and prodded with the same surprising gentleness she displayed the last time he'd injured his ankle. It was the same one too, he glumly noted once again, as she eased his boot off. He winced and recoiled when she tweaked it just right, stifling a pained cry. He could battle Akuma until he was coughing up blood and was suffering from broken bones, but one stupid hole in the ground royally screwed up his day and nearly snapped his damned ankle. Just like the toothless bear trap.
The irony.
"Twisted bad, with the way you just jumped. You have a tendency to fuck up your leg, you know that? Same one too." she muttered dryly. Of course she'd notice that. Why wouldn't she? What little of her sash she still had around her waist was quickly taken off and she was already tying it around his ankle.
"Wait—just hold on," he sat up a little straighter, trying to give her a little more working room. "How long have you been here?"
She turned away with another sudden fit of coughs. He waited as she took heavy breaths to calm herself when she finished.
"It doesn't matter—"
"Don't tell me that!" He snapped back, glowering at the woman. She tensed backwards, clearly taken aback. "Don't tell me, 'it doesn't matter', Ash, because it does! I'm tired of you telling me that! I was worried sick when you didn't come back! You've been blinded and you've been hunted for the last several days, and I'm guessing you're sick right now. My ankle can wait, but from the sounds of it, you can't! Now please…please, tell me how I can help you."
The air itself seemed electrified in the moments following his words. She remained silent as he fell into it, and the only central noise to be heard was the beat of the rain around them.
"You shouldn't worry about me," she said finally, her voice hoarse and quiet. "This is what my life was like long before you came here. It's what it'll be like when you leave. There's no point in trying to change it. Trust me when I say it all just ends up in a painful, bloody mess."
There it was again. He could sense more, words left unsaid, hanging in the back of her throat, begging for release, but they were eventually swallowed back down instead. He felt cold then, in spite of the muggy heat blanketing him. He didn't know whether to pity her or be angry with her, with how utterly…defeated she sounded in that moment, like she'd given up trying to change anything for the better. Maybe she had in the past. Maybe she hadn't. He could only take her word for it.
"You shouldn't have come out here. I would've gotten back, eventually," she said, leaning heavily into her seat.
He shook his head. "You clearly don't know much about me, then. I'm a bit stubborn when it comes to my friends."
"We're not friends."
It took an extra moment for the words to sink in and when they had, they hurt like a knife had just been twisted into his gut. The poignant, matter-of-fact, hardened tone suggested he shouldn't argue and at first, he didn't. He nearly took it at face value, but as the words kept playing in his head, over and over again in that hard, quiet voice of hers, the sadder it sounded. It was all a front. She was trying to force the image, distance herself and stay that way. It was a front for someone trying hard to keep others out, not letting them any closer than they'd already gotten. He might have once fallen for that when he'd first arrived, backing away from such a person, but now he knew better.
He knew her a little better than she probably would have liked.
"My friends and my only family are gone," he started quietly. "I'm far from home, and I don't mean I'm just continents away. I'm apparently out of my own time period, but I think you've already figured that out. I…had a mission, in the time and place I had once lived in, but now…it seems like it's over, and it's been that way for quite some time. And pardon me for how sad it may sound, but I have no one else, except for you, right here and right now. I can't exactly pick and choose my company, as pickings are a bit slim around on this island." He exhaled, long and slow. "I'm not going to give up on what little relationship—or whatever it is we're supposed to call it—just because you're having an internal crisis. I'd rather have you by my side than no one at all."
She said nothing as she kept herself leaning on the back of the cab seat, following her tried and true silent option. It stretched on, until it was uncomfortable staring at her when she refused to respond. It wasn't as though she could see him, but still.
"Ash?"
She said nothing still. He pushed himself into a more upright position and reached for her, stopped suddenly and retracted his hand, then tried again. Tentatively, he prodded her shoulder. There was no reflexive recoil from her, nor was there her usual snappy and predictable response of 'Don't fucking touch me'.
She slumped over, and he scrambled up to pull her into an upright position when she started listing. Her head lolled and he hastily tugged the makeshift blindfold down. He squinted in the darkness, but he could make out that she wasn't conscious anymore. And she was simply burning up. He couldn't make out if she was slick from the rain or if it was sweat or both, but she was soaked, worse than him even.
I didn't notice. I was sitting right next to her, and I didn't even notice.
He pressed two fingers to her neck, feeling for her pulse and found it to be weaker than he imagined it should be. He pressed a palm to her forehead again. Hot. So hot to the touch. How was she still alive, with a fever this high? How had she even been conscious and functioning?
He knew so little. The only thing he knew for sure was that when someone else had a temperature like this, they weren't long for this world. Just how high was her normal body temperature, and what would constitute as a high enough fever for her that he'd need to worry about?
A tremor vibrating up in the cab startled him. Another followed shortly after the first, and then another and another and another. Slowly, but steadily, it continued. Allen glanced up at the windows and wiped away some of the fog covering it. Something was moving out there, he could just barely make it out. It was a familiar enough silhouette. Stocky body, short tail, stubby forelimbs, broad and muscular torso, a horned skull—it was one of the Carnotaurs.
Not now, please no, he thought, moments before Ash began coughing. He jumped at the sound, his heart pounding as the silhouette outside drew closer, drawn by the noise. Not good, not good!
A Carnotaurus wasn't as large as Báthory, but there were at least three on the island and where one was, the other two weren't far behind. They were ugly brutes but they were sharp enough hunters and much larger than the Dilos. He wasn't sure what was worse: the venom-spitting Dilos or the camouflage-using Carnies.
He hastily covered her mouth, muffling the noise as carefully as he could without smothering her, but it was too late. The monster was heading their way, and he could hear its shuddering, deep-lunged breaths as it did, the soft and hungry growls reverberating from its chest. The Carnotaurus's hulking form settled a short distance from truck, uttering an inquisitive growl as if sizing up the mechanical object before it. Tentatively, it leaned forward, snout pressing against the metal door. He could make out the horned adornment above its eye as it nudged the door and for a moment, the truck offered some resistance.
The truck groaned under added pressure as the Carnotaurus pressed forward again, harder this time with a heavy snarl. The truck shuddered in response, its undercarriage creaking noisily in protest. After years of being undisturbed, it was not used to being moved about at all. The Carnotaurus roared and drew back, sending a gush of air spewing across the window.
Rain pattered along its dark hide, and Allen caught a glimpse of sharp teeth as it opened its maw. More breath fogged along the glass, obscuring sight of the dinosaur. Then everything went quiet, except for the staccato of rain pounding away at the world around them.
Another growling rumble sounded off, moments before a flash of lightning went off. For several horrifying moments, he caught a real glimpse of the animal outside. Its head was bright red, like it had been dipped in a pool of blood, while dark mottled stripes adorned its backside, the rest of its hide a rusted red-brown. Even fully grown, it wasn't as intimidating in size when compared to either of the rexes, but it more than made up for its smaller size with absolute aggression.
The world went dark. Seconds ticked by and Allen felt his heart pounding.
Maybe it left. Maybe it didn't see us.
Beady eyes stared straight at him as the Carnotaurus roared like thunder, a gaping maw with recurving fangs charging forward when another flash of silvery lightning lit up the world.
The Carnotaurus slammed into the cab as darkness settled over them again, tearing into the thin and flimsy metal exterior with ease. Glass exploded around him and Ash. He shielded his eyes, feeling the hot stink of rotted breath pouring into the cab and he gagged. Rainwater and the open air hit him in an icy wave, jostled as the truck groaned in rigorous yet pitiful protest while the Carnotaurus tore into it easily. Jaws snapped above him and he shouted, summoning his claws without thinking and slicing outward. He made contact with something solid and its owner boomed loudly with displeasure, withdrawing rapidly in confusion to reassess.
Allen saw the silhouette draw back, uttering that inquisitive growl once again. It didn't last long as it dove forward once more. Another wave of hot and muggy rotted breath poured over him. The big predator snapped its jaws at empty air, just barely missing the flutter of a white cloak as Allen leapt free of the truck's cab with Ash gathered up in his arms. Hard asphalt and a slurry of rainwater broke their fall while another jolt of hot needles stabbed at his injured ankle, rekindling a surge of pain to race up his leg.
The Carnotaurus roared its displeasure at its meal escaping, turning to follow. Only a few strides, and the animal would be upon them. Allen gathered himself and Ash up, pulling his legs underneath him, biting back the pain so he could stand, perhaps get them under the cover of the tree line—
For a split second, he felt teeth graze along just behind him, that muggy breath and stench of death once more blanketing over him. He almost imagined feeling those jaws closing around him, could almost feel the pinpricks turn into daggers, but it was over just as quickly as it had started. The Carnotaurus' roar was right in his ear, but its cry turned into a strangled scream. Something else had brought itself into the fight, slamming hard and fast into the horned devil behind him and Ash. When he turned, he saw something bigger had overtaken their assailant, sinking its teeth into the animal's neck. The Carnotaurus shrieked in protest, a desperate sound that sounded tinny compared to the bigger opponent crushing down on it. One more terrified howl quickly turned into a gurgle and then that melted into silence.
Another rumble permeated the air, another flash of lightning went off and the hulking, scarred hide of Báthory showed up in the brief stint of light. Yellow eyes imbedded in an even bigger skull turned toward him. The ground shuddered more heavily than the Carnotaurus' own stride had done as she turned herself more fully, and in one stride alone, she was looming over him and Ash.
That hulking skull of hers lowered down to his level and he could simply feel her massive presence as she nudged them both. He went sprawling at the gesture. Báthory thrummed softly and snorted, spraying him with a shot of wet air from her snout. He would have happily admitted that he was relieved when she lifted away from his level. He would also admit that he was absolutely entranced by the impressive stature she simply exuded just by standing before him, and well…not eating him. Báthory's teeth were by far larger than any of the animals that resided on the island, with the exception of Carmilla's teeth, of course.
He was not happy when the old tyrannosaur gathered in a deep breath in her broad chest to let out a booming roar that could compete with the very thunder itself and cow it into shame. Standing next to a very large animal that could produce that kind of deafening sound was not an experience he was keen on repeating for a very long time. The sound of living thunder incarnate before him lapsed into an eerie silence as she stood there like a sentinel for a full minute, still as a statue.
Allen felt like he could breathe when she finally moved away and toward the Carnotaurus' corpse lying at the end of the motor pool, by the ruined remains of the poor truck.
"Báthory…?" His voice sounded inconsequentially tiny when he spoke. The rain drowned out his voice. He tried again, raising his voice as he addressed her. The old tyrannosaur didn't acknowledge him. Instead, she struck at the fresh corpse and a sickening choir of tearing meat and crunching bones accompanied the patter of the rain. Báthory's own pleased growls broke in between her loud snorts. He sighed, glancing at Ash, and was slightly envious, if still a little worried, at her complete ignorance of everything going on around her.
When the ground began to shudder beneath him, he groaned, feeling more annoyed than panicked this time around.
"What now?"
He craned his neck to look around him and only caught a glimpse of another very-large-something right on top of him before that same something struck, big and bony limbs wrapped itself around him and Ash. He yelped, taken aback by the turning of the world and the feeling of it tightly wrapping around them as the ground went rushing away.
The very air vibrated around him as a deep-chested rumble went off right in his ear, and the very heat of the beast that had scooped them up rattled him to his core. Báthory paid them little mind, only acknowledging the newcomer long enough with a huff and a glance before she turned back to her meal. Allen craned his head, catching sight of a snowy-white hide and felt his next breath catch in his throat, partly in relief and partly in concern.
"Carmilla!"
An approving growl rumbled around him. Carmilla adjusted her grip, careful to grasp him and Ash and not stab them through with her sharp, curving talons. She took off when she gave another low snarl. Wet foliage soon surrounded them, although they were mostly spared from it as Carmilla tucked them close to her broad chest. He could just about hear her large heart pumping and her huge lungs taking in and expelling air, gargantuan quantities that supported her large frame. The rains continued through the night, but Carmilla made good time and before he knew it, they had made it back to the cave homestead well before dawn. His ankle felt tender and it hurt putting too much weight on it, but it was considerably less painful than earlier when he had first twisted it. He was lucky he hadn't broken it.
Carmilla's presence, from the moment she had snatched him and Ash up to the moment she dropped them off, had been strangely comforting. He knew that she was an incredibly intelligent animal, but in the dim oncoming grey morning light, he could see more depths to her in her eyes than he had first noticed when they first met. She studied him sharply with that crimson gaze of hers, a steady growl permeating the air as he limped to the doorway with Ash in his arms.
When he felt the ground tremble after they were well within the safe confines of the cave, he knew the regal dinosaur had taken her leave.
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