→ for which I have to howl.

[lupa]

Who: GG Giordano, Cliona Donovan
What: They're brought to Baedal together, a reunion somewhat marred by the fact that GG's sanity is apparently due to arrive a while after she does.
Where: An arrival room in the Valhalla Inn.
When: Coardi.
Notes: rrrrrr.
Warnings: Violence, blood, mentions of murder, nudity, probable foul language and discussion of torture. More TBA.

At least he's dead. Some people bring items to Baedal; GG, aside from a pile of dirty, sturdy clothes, brings a chunk of flesh in her teeth; the best part of a man's neck. So: she may be mad, she may be dead, may be captured, may have broken all of her own rules and done something terrible and horrible like she has always always wanted to and she may not regret it at all, but at least he's dead.

--is what GG will think later. Right now, she isn't thinking in words, but in smells and sights and feelings, flashes of instinct which cross paths in her mind and go straight to her paws.

This isn't where she was a moment ago. She took that bite and worried that flesh away, and then she couldn't hear him screaming, was tumbling, and landed- where?

Sight doesn't chime in as much as her other senses do, her hearing and her sense of smell, the fact that it's warmer here, wherever she is, wherever she's locked and whoever's taken her. She can smell people, so many of them, not all of them humans, in and out of this room all day long, their scents fading but distinct, cleaning supplies, she can smell fear and sweat and panic.

Somewhere in the backseat of her brain her rational thoughts are screaming Numen, Crisse, it must be Numen, how--

The wolf can't remember what Numen is, only that a) she is in danger and b) she is not alone.

The faerie smells like the earth after rain, with the scent of unwashed skin and hospitals and chemicals overlaid over that, an ugly mishmash of scents which she can almost see in streaks of orange and grey, sickly colours, on her tongue more than in her nose.

The same human rationale that knows what Numen is is screaming at the wolf, no no no no!

And the wolf, scared, whimpering, snarling, backed into a corner, does not listen- and springs.

Comments

[lupa]

"Good", GG mutters roughly, shoving the iron away when it falls to the floor as if its very existence offends her. (It does).

She's exerting a similar amount of self control, so much that she's trembling very slightly, though she can't really tell whether that's exertion or shock or even hunger, the constant gnawing pain- she'd planned to make a meal of Joseph (and what of it she wants to add, defensive even in her own mind) and had been interrupted; she'd have been fine, but she can still taste blood. So, she's shaking, though she tries to stop it.

Lea's alive. Clio's alive. She's alive. All of it feels completely insane.

But dealing with things is what they all do, by necessity or design. "Somewhere safe sounds perfect right now. Clio, are you--?" ...okay, able to stand, able to move?

[caoineadh]

It does, indeed, startle Clio a little, but that feeling is quickly surpassed by relief because it's off and while she isn't going to instantly return to normal, she does feel better. It's probably best this way, a slow recovery; being jolted straight back into her powers would've been overwhelming.

She takes the clothes when they're in reach (letting her fingers brush the back of Lea's hand briefly, in an attempt at reassurance) and pushes herself up to standing, "I'm okay," To answer GG's uninished question, and she quickly takes off the hoodie and hospital gown to pull on the clothes Lea brought. The gown is getting left behind, but the hoodie - once she's taken her necklace out of the pocket - is returned to GG, Clio's expression full of concern at how her friend is shaking.