wildmage_daine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bigapplesauce2015-06-15 07:53 pm
wildmage_daine) wrote in bigapplesauce2015-06-15 07:53 pm
I'll Be A Stone, I'll Be The Hunter [closed]
Daine leaves the remains of the base in crow shape, surrounded by other birds, buzzing with adrenaline and borrowed strength. She and her friends have destroyed all the records they could find, left the labs in ruins, smashed computers and other expensive-looking things to pieces. The only things left intact are the tunnels themselves, because she hadn't wanted to risk collapsing the ground up above, and the food. Both belong to the rats, now, and she wishes them joy of it.
She's not sorry. She's not sorry.
The dogs are a bright, familiar cluster in her mind's eye, and she wings her way towards them. That's where Peeta will be. He's not as far from the base itself as she'd like him to be, but it doesn't matter anymore. If any stragglers tried to take him, they'd have nowhere to go.
The cold, furious part of her thinks: if any stragglers tried to take him, I'd kill them.
But there's no one suspicious around when she finally spies him and the others. Maybe Peeta knows her crow shape well enough to recognize her among the other birds as she swoops towards them. Regardless, she doesn't stay crow for long: once she hits the ground, she lapses into wolf shape, the only one she can count on herself to hold for any length of time. Maybe it's too noticeable, but there are far more noticeable things happening back near Columbus Circle. She could just be an overlarge dog.
Daine moves toward him, her gait somewhere between a trot and a stagger, hackles raised in lingering anger, but tail wagging. He's alive, he's in one piece, and they're free.
She's not sorry. She's not sorry.
The dogs are a bright, familiar cluster in her mind's eye, and she wings her way towards them. That's where Peeta will be. He's not as far from the base itself as she'd like him to be, but it doesn't matter anymore. If any stragglers tried to take him, they'd have nowhere to go.
The cold, furious part of her thinks: if any stragglers tried to take him, I'd kill them.
But there's no one suspicious around when she finally spies him and the others. Maybe Peeta knows her crow shape well enough to recognize her among the other birds as she swoops towards them. Regardless, she doesn't stay crow for long: once she hits the ground, she lapses into wolf shape, the only one she can count on herself to hold for any length of time. Maybe it's too noticeable, but there are far more noticeable things happening back near Columbus Circle. She could just be an overlarge dog.
Daine moves toward him, her gait somewhere between a trot and a stagger, hackles raised in lingering anger, but tail wagging. He's alive, he's in one piece, and they're free.