(ACE) The STARK Team

Shoot.
Sahara's Move pitifully missed the bat by near a foot. Aggravation and agony set in her youth bones, she wanted everything to burn. Her eyes were flaming with bloodlust, falling into the depths of a psychotic snap. It was just too much for the already-unstable Fire-Type.
"You know who I am.." Zephyr lowered himself eye to eye with the canine. She halted, giving a soft glare to the Flying-Type, "... Yes..." She cooed back. How did she know this guy...? She, herself, was unsure. She didn't keep friends, it wasn't who she was anymore.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" So long... Maybe that's why she couldn't remember. It was still suspicious however... But she was too stressed to think on it anymore.
“HEY!” A female voice? Sahara snapped her eyes to the owner of the voice, fur bristling. Who was this newcomer? Where had Smith and Carl gone? These things raced around her mind, and along with the mind numbing pain, dragged her away from what little sanity she clung to. That was it.

She threw her head back with a feral howl, flames jetting from her mouth towards the shrubbery and setting them ablaze. She had let go of her control and was running on instincts, those of which drove her to burn everything and lay quietly in the ashes left in her wake.

She had done this before.

It didn't matter to her in the slightest that there were others around, the world was going to feel her pain and fury. Flames roared from her jaws and lit the area in her rampage, her expression not maniacal, but not entirely sane either. Finally her legs fell out from beneath her, her mind going black as she hit the ground.

Nothingness.

(OoC - She finally snapped! D: Hope a little forest fire is okay with y'all. :3)

Smith had no idea what to do. He had no business left with Sahara, and in all honesty just wanted to get away from her before he lose his temper again and ended up killing her. Carl was gone, probably miles away by now. Gaear was dead. His mountain was still under siege by a ridiculous amount of undead, whom he knew he had little chance against on his own. The Aggron sighed and stared at the ground as he shuffled along, still cradling his injured arm. Maybe the best option was to move along; find a new place to live. Yeah, let's see how long it takes for that one to go to the dogs as well! Other than losing another home, his only option was to try and make it to Johto to see if he could find Faralda and his son or daughter. Yer too old, lad, Smith thought sadly to himself as he walked. Yer too slow. Yer can't swim. Yer can't do it.

"Who are you? I said, who are you?!" Smith uttered a small moan and forced himself to turn. A Swoobat, clearly undead by its dirty fur and foul stink, was descending towards Sahara. Quite frankly, Smith was not concerned over what became of that little backstabber, but he sure as hell wasn't in the mood for a battle. "Oh fuck off," he groaned as bright blue rings began to spin around his body in preparation for a Stone Edge straight up that bat's ass.

But Sahara had launched a badly-aimed Flamethrower which, of course, missed by little more than a few inches. The Swoobat seemed quite unphased by his attempted murder and continued to hover downwards. "You know who I am...It has been a while, hasn't it?"

Oh. So that was how it was - these two knew each other. Smith didn't give two shits about their little reunion and turned to walk away into the trees when a new voice reached his ears from his left. "HEY!" A small, purple feline had jumped out and was trying to pick a fight with the undead Psychic-type. Smith blinked down at the cat curiously - just what the hell was she trying to do? "I think it's best ter stay outta this one, lass," he grunted, his tail leaving a trench in the ground behind him as he marched past her. "Yer don't want to be mixing with the wrong sorts-- SHIT!"

The animalistic howl that roared from Sahara's throat was quickly replaced by an inferno of flames. While half of his typing meant that fire was no huge threat to him, he certainly didn't need more than a damaged arm to hinder him. Wasting no time, Smith charged for the feline and scooped her up into his good arm as he lumbered through the trees, holding her tight against his chest. "Don't argue," he warned her in advance just in case she was thinking of protesting. "Yer safer with me than yer ever will be with those two."

“HEY!”

The swoobat's head jerks towards the sound of the interference, a hiss builds in the undead's throat as his eyes lock on to a new figure as a fanged scowl grows on his grotesque lips. A small, furred mammal...gears shift and grind within his mind; memories flash silently before his mind's eye. Second-long films of the purple felines that would scrounge around Castelia City, clawing at vermin, humans, each other...

“Oh I see you, you bastard,”

This snack would not interfere with his meal, with a short burst of speed the bat shifts his flight to wheel around. His form coming to face the purloin as he powers up an air slash attack. A cold, bright white glowing that overtakes the dark grey of his scarred wings that once it reaches a fever pitch it releases in a barrage of blades. Zephyr continues to hiss, but turns back to his main target, though his move probably missed due to rushing his attack, the undead could care less. He just needed to scare the purlion off, killing it now would only be a bonus. It's time would come.

He hears the arcanine howling with her own displeasure at its arrival. Good. Or so he had assumed this was the reason for it. Unbeknownst to him the certainty he had recently acquired with his own hold over the canine snap just like a twig in a bear trap. Flames sear past his fur, the heat washing over his bloodied form not unlike before when he had been fired at within the trees. The bat reels to put vertical distance between him and Sahara. The shrubbery right next to where he had been hovering now ablaze with an intense heat and destructive potential.

"Stop! Now!" The words come out in a high screech as the smoke and flames start to spread. He had had her under his thrall! What had gone wrong--from the corner of his eye a silver shape darts forward aiming not for him, but something close by. The swoobat is able to turn again in time to witness Smith scooping up the offending newcomer from before. Another, shorter, screech builds and escapes the bat's bloodied maw, but the heat surrounding him reminds him again of what he's hovering here for. It didn't matter how far they shuffled into the forest, he told himself, he would be able to deal with them later. With his rage building, Zephyr evens out his flight to fly in tight circles above the downed canine's form. It appears to have finally been brought back to belly from its wounds.

"Surprising you could stand at all.." The courting pokemon mutters, making sure to keep up his motion of turning and circling as he watches her. She's shot at him, denied his illusion, summoned others and is attempting to set him on fire again! Whether all of this is directed at him or not or intention it doesn't matter to the undead at this point it all leads to one infuriating point that literally appear to make the bat's eyes glow with malice.

"YOU WILL NOT DELAY MY FEEDING ANY LONGER!" Slowing in his flight momentarily, Zephyr closes his eyes to concentrate his energy and mind that release in a burst of psychic energy waves as discolored eyelids fly open, the glowing intensifying with the unleashing of the psychic that's aimed at the injured dog below.


((ooc: I hope you guys don't mind I changed the time from morning to afternoon, it had been morning here for quite some time. However, if this conflicts with anything I would be happy to change my post.))

 
 "I think it's best ter stay outta this one, lass," 
 
Mathilda’s eyes followed the steel-type as he trudged past, the ground beneath her paws practically trembling with each of his heavy footfalls. But his calm confused her. Didn’t he care? Wasn’t the canine his friend? Filled with questions, the cat was momentarily distracted by the male as his words spun around her head. He was right of course. She knew it wasn’t her place to get involved – but she refused to stand by as a fellow survivor was slaughtered.
 
"Yer don't want to be mixing with the wrong sorts-- SHIT!"
 
The female’s howl came suddenly and eerily, the Purrloin’s head snapping back to the scene as she cursed ever looking away. If the flames spouting from the canine’s maw weren’t bad enough, the bat too had sent her a welcoming gift. Mathilda barely had time to jump out of the way, emitting a gasp of surprise as the blades brushed against her dirtied fur, a chill soon following at the close call. But with the evasive movement, the cat had unwittingly leapt into the powerful arms of another.
“Hey! What the -!?” She hissed instinctively, panicking at the Aggron’s grip around her petite frame. He spoke then, his tone proving oddly comforting to the frazzled youth, as she let herself relax against his armoured chest. Mathilda could smell the smoke, feel the heat of the flames growing ever-stronger around her as they hungrily alighted the trees. She didn’t need it explained – the Aggron had saved her.
 
“Wait – What about the hound?!”
 
 The Purrloin couldn’t resist, the words naturally spilling from her mouth as she attempted to clamber to her hero’s shoulder.
“Will she be okay?! I mean – all that fire?! An-And the bat!” She caught only a glimpse of the forest falling to the Arcanine’s inferno, struggling for a better look of the creature within that she had sought to help. But for whatever reason, her current company thought such chivalry unwise, pointless even. Mathilda had met some bad people in her life and was generally apt at recognising them, but she had felt no such vibe from the fallen hound. 

(OoC - Skip, Sahara is unconscious lol. She yelped at Zephyr's Psychic hitting her, and he's welcome to deal another blow to her while she's out. :3 If somebody wants to defend Sahara, that'd be epic. If not, she'll be awake next round to help herself lolol.)

"Wait – What about the hound?!" Smith gritted his teeth as he marched through the trees away from the blaze, trying hard not to answer her. He was too busy trying to protect himself and the feline from being burned alive to think about that traitor. "Will she be okay?! I mean – all that fire?! An-And the bat!"

"The fire is her own," the Aggron answered curtly, kicking aside a log that was blocking the path. "And as for the bat ... she can handle herself." He continued onwards, the Purrloin still safe in his grasp, until he reached the craggy outskirts of the mountain, where there were no trees and the fire could not reach them. Gently setting the purple cat down on a rock, Smith clutched the back of his aching head as the day's stresses caught up with him.

"What were yer thinkin', lass?" he demanded, his growing headache not aiding his bad mood in the slightest. "A little thing like you ... yer keep throwin' yerself into the fray like that, yer gonna get yerself killed. D'yer want to survive through this or not?" Sighing, Smith turned back towards the trees, watching the columns of smoke rising in the distance.

"Sorry, lass. This day ... well, a lot has happened..." Sliding his bulk around to face the Purrloin, Smith managed a reassuring smile. "But yer don't have to worry about me hurtin' yer. I'd never dream of it." Leaning down and placing his hand palm-upwards in front of the feline for her to possibly shake, Smith humbly nodded. "D'yer have a name, lass? Mine is Smith."

Zephyr continues in his path, swooping in tight circles overhead waiting for the hound to retaliate against him for the blow she had just been dealt. However, nothing comes. Only a soft yelp and then nothing. Confused, the swoobat continues in his circling for several more moments before slowly tilting in his flight to swirl lower and lower until, gently his feet extend to touch the ground. The bat lands not more than a foot or two from the arcanine's giant head. Using his clawed wings and feet he is able to walk forward in an awkward gait as his form is meant more for the sky than it ever was for the ground. Regardless, Zephyr finds himself directly before Sahara.

With his fangs grit together and bared slightly the bat focuses his mind once again. His eyes glow with a familiar power that intensifies until the energy builds itself up too high to be contained and another round of psychic waves are released at the hound. Quickly, the swoobat swirls on his feet and sprints back away from the other in his swinging, tumbling gait...Least the downed canine would find a small reserve of strength and attempt to lash out with its own fangs at the undead. Once a few feet further away, the undead bat turns again to see the same scene he had left. Upon seeing that she does not stir yet again, the blood crusted lips of the bat up-turn into a delighted grin.

"So much trouble, yet eventually everything falls..." The bat states in a quiet chuckle to himself. A long greying tongue peeking out from the lips of the undead to lick along its cracking edge. Thoughts of his own hunger peeking and adding a dark glint to his dead red eyes. The fire growing around Zephyr means nothing to him now with his meal so close at hand.


((ooc- I had interpreted that permission to attack her while she was still out would mean she stays unconscious through the attack. Just tell me if there is anything you would like changed))

Olive was sure that if she had eyes, she would cry.

The earth was so soft underneath her, shuffling on a nest of short, flimsy blades that she only recalls having felt once in her lifetime. A breeze flowed through her matted fuzz, almost blowing the tiny bat away as she yelped in surprise. "Wh-who's there?! Show yourself!" she squeaked, confused. In the fifteen years of her life, this had been the first time she had ever been in the wilderness. The invisible, cool force that batted against her unknown to her knowledge from a life of living solely in the dark recesses of the caves. She stumbled, attempting to take flight but being pushed away by even the gentlest of winds. "S-Stop it!" she cried, beating her wings harder in attempts to fight the air. Her attempts were futile, the young Zubat soon finding herself whisked by a stronger gale, screaming in protest as her body slammed roughly against the coarse bark of a tree.

She spat, clinging onto the rough texture as she whimpered in pain. "Ow..." she whined, biting her lip as she angled her ears for sounds around her. There was a crackling, voices and fighting somewhere, close to where she was. It was warm, warmer than the comforting bodies of her kin huddled around her. "He-hello?" she mumbled, flicking her large ears in an attempt to tune in to the murmurs in the distance. The heat was alluring, tempting her to come closer as she loosened her grip on the tree, coughing and hacking as something thick, something suffocating entered her fragile lungs. She gasped, gagging for air as she hurriedly lunged herself upwards, scaling the wood as if she were climbing the wall of a cave. "Help!" she felt as if she was going to vomit, the smog embracing her tiny form as she barely managed to pull herself into a small hole in the tree. In fear, she huddled into the tiny crevice. Her body shuddered and quaked, small hiccups emitted from her sore throat as she covered her body with her wings, wailing. She never knew the outside would would be this scary, so dark and relentless and unforgiving. Maybe she shouldn't have come out from the caves--her dad had always told her that it as dangerous in the wild, didn't he? Regardless she had ignored his words, insisting on fierce training to one day enjoy the wonders of the earth.

In silence, she curled herself into the corner, muffled wailing streaming from her mouth as she hoped that all these terrifying new experiences would end soon.

[OOC: Glad to be on the team! This is Olive's first time outside in her whole life, so she's confused and terrified and finding the experience a lot more worse than she had initially expected. She's not thinking straight because she panicking, and forgetting a lot of the information tidbits that she had learned from her father. Her current location is somewhere near where Sahara and Zephyr is.]

 
"The fire is her own. And as for the bat ... she can handle herself."
 
The curtness of the Aggron’s words was startling, almost callous as he effortlessly cleared an escape path. Mathilda knew bluntness wasn’t a sin – in fact she had lived long enough with Leon to realize it was quite the asset, but something just didn’t seem right. Thinking back to the graveyard of the battlefield she had witnessed upon arrival, the young feline wondered whether that the two survivors had been at war with one another – the Rhyhorn simply caught in the mix. Her mind was alive, trying to piece together the mystery of her saviour’s hatred for the canine, but no matter the explanation the thought of abandoning the female was a burden still weighing on her petite shoulders.
 
Before she even had time to register that the Aggron had stopped, Mathilda found herself being carefully set down on a rock. The cool surface provided a welcome contrast to the heat of the flames left behind, bringing her back to reality as she looked up to her companion.
 
"What were yer thinkin', lass? A little thing like you ... yer keep throwin' yerself into the fray like that, yer gonna get yerself killed. D'yer want to survive through this or not?"
 
Mathilda didn’t appreciate his tone. A frown crashed over her striking eyes at the scolding, tail lashing at being spoken to like a troublesome child. On reflection, yes it had been foolish to risk her life for a couple of strangers – but she had no regrets. Mathilda had survived alone for years – albeit with the occasional hand from Leon. Yet she failed to see how this old man could rant at her with such venom.
“I’ve been surviving just fine,” She hissed, unable to control her tongue as he turned away from her. She had considered going on and giving him a piece of her mind but the smoke in the distance reminded her she was indebted to him. He had saved her life; it was only fair she show some respect.
 
"Sorry, lass. This day ... well, a lot has happened..." 
 
“No kidding,” The feline muttered beneath her breath, still quietly offended by his earlier outburst. He was calming quickly though, presenting a far more likeable side as her glower gradually softened in time with his own. His promise not to hurt her was sincere enough; the cat convinced she had detected a paternal streak in his tone as he approached with a large hand – a gesture of peace.
 
"D'yer have a name, lass? Mine is Smith."
 
She eyed him for a moment, her pride still deterred by his lecture, but rationality soon got the better of her. A friend was always a welcome gift. Sighing, she managed a small smile and placed a miniature paw on his own, retreating it as she spoke.
“Mathilda,” The Purrloin was curt, opening her mouth to continue when a quieted but distinct screaming came to her hearing. Her large ears twitched at the painful sound, the noise new – foreign to those of previous acquaintances – to leave her staring, almost entranced into the flames. She had resolved to let the matter of the Arcanine and the undead slip from her mind, but this new screech was clamping down hard on her heart. Guilt was suffocating her, smog as deadly as the flames’ companion as she looked up to Smith, her mind already made up.
 
She didn’t need his permission.
 
Without a word, the feline darted back towards the flames. Speed was her ally, strong winds assisting her sprint to carry her swiftly back towards the scene as she followed Smith’s trench-like path – obstacles helpfully eliminated in advance.
 
The smoke was soon ensnaring her, the heat of the fire fuelling her determination to find those lost and scared within. It was stupid, it was reckless but Mathilda was a victim to her chivalry.
“Hello?!”She skidded to a halt, her voice loud as she searched blindly for glimpse of the creatures trapped within the inferno. “Can anyone hear me?! Follow my voice!” She spluttered, coughing as the smoke snaked its way into her lungs. “Please! Anybody!” She couldn’t do much for the Arcanine – the size difference leaving the young cat useless were she already unconscious – but maybe she could save this unseen victim. Let them follow her cries to Smith’s welcoming pathway to safety. 

Hu.... hurts...

Pain was the only thing registering in the fallen canine's mind. The dark depths of her mind seemed to ripple as the attack surged through her body, the agony nearly enough to make her wail. Ugh... She could feel the puddle of her own crimson around her, still warm. Warm... Why was everything so... hot? She finally noticed the scent of smoke in her dull senses, reminding her of the freakout episode she had, causing it all.
"So much trouble, yet eventually everything falls..." Zephyr chortled.

Sahara's eyelids lifted just enough to make out a blurry Swoobat nearing. Oh, him! She gave a warning growl, fire already beginning to form in her jaws. She gave him a chance, but now she would have to resort to brutality. The fire sparking in her mouth roared against Zephyr at point blank range.
Sahara's breath was ragged, and everything was blurring. The shrubbery and flames were a mess of broken colors. But she was aware this storm of flames was her doing.

Ashes from the remains of plant life were smoldering in wake of her snap. Zephyr was right. Everything falls. But must it always be my fault?
"Help!" Another Pokémon? It was nearby, but Sahara's weak legs disagreed with her. She couldn't will herself up, only falling back down in a pitiful heap.
“Can anyone hear me?! Follow my voice! Please! Anybody!”

"This--!" The Arcanine gagged, cutting her own voice off, "This way! Somebody needs help...! I can't..." She murmured the last part.

Sahara, uncharacteristically, wanted to help the stranger. Her exhausted body refused, however. She could do little more than lay there and hope Smith, or anyone else could do something.

((OoC - I had permission from NyraXerz to attack Zephyr. :3))

((Skip me for now. Smith just tried his best to follow Mathilda back into the forest, calling her name and muttering curses to himself.))

Zephyr had had no time to dodge. No time to back away as his deteriorated mind had become too enraptured with his "for sure" victory that it never considered this could happen. She was suppose to be--! Her warning growl had been lost to the bat as his senses dulled from growing hunger and it was not until the hot flames smacked into him with the forces of truck. The force itself throws the swoobat into the air. A piercing shriek releases from the swoobat's hoarse throat. His form involuntarily performing flips and turns as he continues to spin out of the control his thrashing wings are fighting for. The scorching flames devouring fur and flesh alike well after the initial hit.

Zephyr collides with the thin out-skirting branches of a tree that feed the fire he is alight with, but allow him through various falls and hits to finally regain control of his flight. Terrified, pissed, and damaged the undead takes off above the trees in retreat. Scarred wings beating furiously to put distance between himself and the canine who had damaged him. Bursts of shrieking accompanying him in his escape. She would fall, that he was still sure of and he would be there.
Let that beast burn itself down! She'll be more reasonable when dead!

She shuddered and coughed, throat raw as her tiny form made itself smaller against the coarse bark. Her wings were clasped tight around her, a futile attempt to fend off the stray embers that leaped towards her blue fur. Olive whimpered, teeth clicking anxiously as she tried to search for a voice, a signal, anything that could help her. “Hello?!” almost as if on cue, she heard someone. Her ears flicked wildly and pivoted in attempts to pinpoint the source of the sound. “Can anyone hear me?! Follow my voice! Please! Anybody!” the Zubat didn't hesitate to shout back, fighting against the thick smog that threatened to mute her. "Help me! Please, help me! I don't want to die!" she wailed, reaching out of the hollow she had trapped herself in and flinching when the flames licked at her wings. "This way!"

The bat shivered in fear at the immense heat that grasped for her, searing pain nipping at her fingers as she wailed. She knew she had to get out, ears flattened against her head as she motioned to jump out, only to stumble back as the fire grew in ferocity. "I have to do this...I have to do this!" she spoke hurriedly, gritting her teeth as she struggled to collect her courage. "I have to do this!" she gasped, inhaling as much air as she could. "I can't die here!"

With a single lunge out of the hollow, she was out, the texture of rough bark and scraggly moss leaving her as she viciously flapped her wings. She yelled, calling out to whoever had replied to her before as she fought against the wing and rising smoke. "I'm here! I'm here!" she yelped as she felt the tip of her wing scratched by a nearby branch, fluttering away in panic. There were too many sounds around her, all muffled except for the lively crackle of the flames beneath her. Her lungs hurt, thick wheezes exhaled from her mouth. "S-Some please help me! I-I don't know where I am!" she pleaded, almost crashing face-first into a tree. "I-I'm...sca-scared..."

If anything else went wrong today, Sahara was going to snap... again.

Her lungs burned like the greenery around her as she inhaled the smoke tainted air. She would've thought she'd be immune to the fiery side effect being a Fire canine and all, but no. She let out a small cough and tried to stand once again. Nobody was going to help her, naturally, so she had to help herself.
The strain it put on her wound made the pain near crippling, and she slid back down with her paws tucked beneath her.

"S-Some please help me! I-I don't know where I am!" Sahara bit her tongue, pushing earlier concerns for the stranger out of her mind. No, she was not going to help. She wasn't a bleeding heart. No way.
"I-I'm...sca-scared..."
... Dangit.

Slowly, she pushed herself up. The ground seemed so far away, and her world was spinning. She must've lost a lot of blood. Her first few steps were wobbly and she had nearly fallen back down, but the Arcanine succeeded in sauntering towards the voice. "Hah... hah... Almost there..."

Sahara nearly missed the blue bat, her sight not serving her as well as it should've due to the rising flames and thickening smoke. Hopefully this bat's intentions weren't to eat her too. "Are you the one calling for help? Come on. I'll get you out of here." She spoke surprisingly softly.

((OoC - It's fine if Olive jumps on Sahara. :3 Sorry for the wait on this, I was waiting on permission, but I'm out of time lol.))

The fire below the swoobat's wings continues to grow and grow as it attempts to feed its insatiable appetite on the brush and trees. The undead cares little as he continues to climb higher and higher into the air. The flames from the attack he has sustained still burns on his rotting flesh creating a horrid scent, if there were not a fire already making a worse one below some pokemon could have easily smelled him out. As Zephyr continues to flap more and more the flames eventually extinguish though noticeable wounds are left behind where the flames used to be. Broken phrases reaches the swoobat's ears, flowing into his mind and jumbling together into a currently unintelligible mass.

"Help me! Please--"

"Come on. I'll get you out of here."

"I-I'm...sca-scared..."

"I'm here! I'm here!"

Sharp fangs grit together as he works to unjumble the mass within his own mind. One thing does prevail over his confused thoughts after his attack a dark mass, dark enough to rival the black smoke arising from the forest below though with a much different source. Injured wings tilt and bring the bat further down below the coming cloud, not wanting be aligned to be heading towards the thick of it.

Where are these voices? What are they? He doesn't want to get hurt, but he cannot lose his meals...Where are they now? Wings begin to turn and bring his swerving around in an attempt to find the meal he had left behind and the new ones he had heard above the flames...so soon pushed out of his mind the dark clouds he had seen and what they could bring...Though now as he has moved so far in a random direction during his feverish escape that this would not be the easiest task...Not too much of a problem, the fire needed to die down first anyway. One thing at a time.


(ooc: We talked briefly about a storm in the rp discussion, I thought I would bring it in a bit. At the moment he is just spotting approaching clouds. If the team decides against the storm we can just not have it hit or feel free to expand on the storm.)

"Are you the one calling for help? Come on. I'll get you out of here." the voice came from below her. Hesitantly, she let out a series of short squeaks towards the source, ears tingling as she tried to make out an idea of what the other survivor looked like. Cautiously, she fluttered in place, unsure if she should trust the stranger. What are you thinking? You were the one who called for help! Don't just give up now! Your life is on the line! Swallowing back her fear she swooped down as steadily as she could--which wasn't very steady at all--towards her saviour. It wasn't long before she felt herself crash into something thick and soft, a comforting warmth enveloped her tiny body as she almost purred. She clung to the clumps of hair, shaking nervously. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Olive buried herself in the pale mane of fur. "I...I thought I was going to die..."

She could feel a sudden whip of wind against her bare back, almost dislodging her place in the Arcanine's fur as she felt one of her wings slip and the gale tugging sharply at her fingers. She screeched in protest, mustering every ounce of her strength to bring her limb back to her. Despite having half her face buried into a tangle of cream hair she could still smell the air, something crisp, sweet. Shuddering when another fresh breeze weaved past her legs, she gave a short sneeze before drooping her ears. "It feels like something's coming." her mumble was quiet, muffled by the pelt she huddled into. She could still feel the embers leaping beneath her, nipping at the tips of her wings and licking at her heels.

[OOC: hitting a writers block. orz Nightdaze, just tell me if you need anything edited!]

"This is like home all over again" The female Growlithe whined as showers of burning bark rained down on her. George was only a tail-length or two ahead of her but his orange-and-cream pelt blended in too easily with the flames, camouflaging the male and making it difficult to follow him. The heat was uncomfortable, light blinding, and smoke disorientating. As Nikora chocked on its thick embrace she could only imagination the torment George must be going through. You don't have the protection of Flash Fire.. Each little touch of the flames was almost comforting for her, painless and warm, but he would certainly be suffering at its sting. Guilt pained at her heart and her head was low. The sooner they got out of this blaze the better.

"If that's the case then we will be just fine." The male tried to sound reassuring but it was hard to breathe with the putrid air filling his lungs. His stride was consistent but quickly growing labored as his paws cried in agony from the heated, ember-strewn grass. "Besides," He barked back at his companion, "Its not like we know this place, so its not really the same." Hopping a log blocking the path George winced at the searing heat that crawled along his belly. Pausing for a moment on the other side he watched as Nikora gracefully jumped the fiery blockade and landed nimbly beside him as though it was she had done it a million times.
A warm smile spread across his muzzle. Such grace under fire.. Im glad you aren't in pain. In the bright yellow light the female almost seemed to glow with a beauty he was lucky enough to see each day. But right now wasn't the time to be admiring it. Fear and worry shined clearly in her grey-brown eyes that glowed silver in the intensity of the fire. "Come on." He panted, breaking back into a run.

With a quick nod Nikora followed, matching his pace step for step. She tried to focus on her stride but had her attention was diverted by what sounded like voices, maybe even screams. "George, do you hear that?" She questioned nervously, dodging a shrub that was rapidly turning to ash. His voice was laced with exhaustion or pain, she couldn't tell which, as he spoke to her with lighthearted but hurried words. "Yeah but barely. Guess we aren't the only ones having a blast out here haha!" Small tickles of relief trickled through her orange pelt. Missing an ear never did hinder you. As the male slowed to a stop Nikora carefully turned her head in search of the sound. "I think its coming from.. this way." Pointing with her snout she waited for Georges approval, if he could tell its direction or not, and didn't move until he did.

The closer the pair came to their target, the clearer the sounds became.  Screams, maybe more then one? The roar of the flames was making it hard to tell. When they finally came in clearly Nikora was both relieved and clouded by guilt. "I...I thought I was going to die..." Whatever was speaking was doing better, maybe it was safe already. Did I just waste our escape time..? Her own labored breathes were beginning to cloud her thoughts and break her stride. The voices continued, sounding much closer then she had expected, and helped her focuses. "It feels like something's coming." George slowed their pace, noticing how much the female was struggling. "I think it can hear us." He coughed heavily, eyes stinging as he looked for the source of the voice. "Hello!" He called out, "Where are you?" More coughing wrecked his lungs as the smoke streamed around him. A burning branch cracked and broke free, falling to the ground with a deadly thud. George toppled over while letting out a loud yelp as it crashed only inches away from his body. "George!" Nikora cried, hot cinders spraying everywhere and blinding her view of her love.

"This--! This way! Somebody needs help...! I can't..."

Mathilda had heard the cries of a female intercepting the higher, younger screams of the second victim trapped within the inferno. The young cat was alert, constantly moving but now blessed with a direction within the thickening smoke. She set her sights on the sound of the older voice, squinting against the stinging gases as she sprinted desperately through the flames.

A sudden splintering crack and her path was blocked by a falling tree. It wore no foliage, growing only flames as the heavy trunk smashed into the ground before the Purrloin, hot cinders spraying as the frightened youth gave a scream of surprise. She avoided substantial damage, though the flaming residue rained down upon her small form, making her cower at the searing sting. The pain was enough reminder of her situation, quickly forcing her back to her senses. She didn’t have the luxury to waste time.

Darting away, she strained to hear the voices within the darkness over her own heavy breathing. Mathilda’s paws, the pads burning against the flaming ground, were moving incessantly; the youth reaching a frenzied sprint as the voices grew louder. Yet she couldn’t see anything, the combination of smoke and blind panic rendering her eyesight useless.

"George!"

The voice was close, remarkably loud and accompanied by a spray of cinders that flared at the feline’s side. It came suddenly, surprisingly as the Purrloin desperately darted away from the heat and in doing so lost her footing. Giving a panicked screech as she hit the ground, the young cat slid a ways to find herself cowering by the paws of a distressed Growlithe. She squinted up at the female, spluttering and hurriedly getting back to her feet. This wasn’t the same canine as before – she could be dangerous.

Mathilda, not wanting to take any further risks, quickly backed away. But it quickly became apparent that the female’s attention was elsewhere – she was scared, looking desperately towards the shower of cinders that cat had only narrowly escaped sharing. Her bleeding heart getting the better of her rationality once more, Mathilda used every bit of strength to call out to the fire-type.
“I’ll- I’ll help you!” She shouted, voice weakened by the hazardous environment and reducing the outspoken youth’s confidence to something quite pitiful. But whilst her health was suffering, Mathilda’s determination was unbreakable. She wouldn’t play the role of damsel again.

(( Sorry about the wait, I've been unwell. Dx ))

The blue bat came down full tilt into Sahara's fur, clutching the cream fur that covered her chest. The canine could feel the little bat shaking as she held her fur. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Nearly forgetting what one says to that, Sahara paused and stammered out a reply, "You're... welcome." That was what Toby always said.

"I...I thought I was going to die..." Sahara didn't intend on letting this one die too, but they weren't in the clear yet. The fire was still raging, and even though Sahara had Flash Fire, the inferno still posed a problem. Tree branches were falling like shooting stars and even with her bulk, they could've crushed or even impaled her at that rate. "It feels like something's coming."

Sahara raised her nose and sniffed the air. "Yes, it does appear we're in for a storm. There's other scents as well." She didn't recognize the two new scents, but the others were still nearby too.  There was still a chance they could all escape. "George!" A voice followed the crashing of burning tree.

Sahara sent a glance skyward as something dripped on her head. Dark clouds had formed above the area and were preparing to unleash a rainstorm. It would work in both their favor and against them. The rain would tame the flames, but at the same time, the humidity would skyrocket, making it even hotter in the firestorm.

"Everyone!" Sahara called, hoping to get all's attention, "We're waiting to die here! We need to get to the mountain!"

This was probably the worst day that Smith had experienced since the day he'd been forced to abandon his mountain after the undead numbers rose to uncontrollable levels ... and that was two days ago. Bad days were somewhat of a common occurrence for him at the moment, and the Aggron stomped angrily through the foliage as he tried to catch a glimpse of the Purloin that had ran off into the burning forest. "These fuckin' kids ... the death of me ... too old fer this..." The smoke grew noticeably thicker as he trudged on, muttering obscenities under his breath and pulling up every shrub, bush or sapling that blocked his path, his tail dragging up a trench behind him.

He paused momentarily to cough as his throat began to close up. Voices from nearby encouraged him to carry on, wiping the tears falling from his burning eyes.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"George!"
"I'll- I’ll help you!"
"We need to get to the mountain!"

"Yer mean my mountain?" Smith growled as he crashed into view, his blue eyes immediately latching onto Sahara and forming a hateful glare. This bitch was the one who started this blaze in the first place and now she was panicking about the welfare of the others? The fuckin' nerve of her... While the Aggron had no qualms about leaving the traitor to choke to death in her own fire, he'd no doubt receive the wrong first impressions from the other Pokemon that had suddenly appeared - a Zubat and two Growlithe. He had the right mind to give Mathilda a good talking to as well for running off, but that would have to wait - while every respect he had once had for Sahara had now dwindled to nothing, he had to admit that she was right.

"...Fine," he eventually grumbled, "but that place is full of undead; even I had to leave. So if we're gonna go, yer gotta pull yer weight - no slackin'! No pissing around! Got it? Good. Follow me, I know a safe route, and don't fall behind!"

Hauling himself around, Smith stomped off into the undergrowth, heading north towards Stark Mountain. While he was in a very bad mood and certainly didn't fancy dragging a bunch of kids and a psycho up to his home, at least perhaps he could finally do something about the undead numbers now that he had some comrades. Would be good ter get me home back... As he walked he kept stealing glances behind him at Sahara. If she made any sudden moves he would have no qualms about killing her where she stood.

Smoke. At first it was only a faint scent on the wind, perhaps a fight further away that had gotten heated between infected. Partially right, however the ninetales never considered how such a distant event could overtake the dry surroundings. One moment Katyusha had been hunting infected through the bush, simply to observe them, and in what seemed like the next moment she was streaking through a forest set ablaze. The undead she had wanted to study had ran headlong to the flame blindly following the scent of blood. The vulpine curses herself mentally, how could she have allowed herself to get so wrapped up in herself and her work that she never noticed the air slowly becoming suffocatingly thick nor how high the temperature was rising.

Burning foliage crunches and hisses below her rapidly moving paws. Claws dig at the ground to propel her forward and in the process claw up the dying earth beneath her. Flash fire allowed the fire type free passage within her element, the flames fueled her movements and without it she would not have made it this far into the blaze. By the time she had realized her mistake the ninetales no longer knew the path back and ran on instinct. Her 'instincts' however may not be as sharp as she remembers. The blaze only appeared to completely consume her surroundings.

"Hello!"
"Where are you?"

Voices ring out above the cracking roar of the flames that cause the gray fox's ears to dart and swerve trying to pinpoint where it had come from. Not far from where she stands a burning branch finally gives far above her form. It comes crashing to the ground with a heavy thud that sprays up another wave of flames and cinders. More voices start to ring out, louder than before, more of them--! Katyusha couldn't really tell as the noise around her distorted the voices. Terrified and anxious she ran towards the voices. Flash fire may protect her from the fire itself, but not anything else that could fall!

A striped pelt stood out among the flames as Katyusha came closer. Coughs and wheezes from the Growlithe beckon her to the fire type's side.
"Are you alright??" Her nine red tails bristled, to match her already raised hackles, and splayed out to make her appear larger in an instinctual attempt to 'scare' her enemy. Placing her paws carefully on the fallen branch Katyusha calls over it to the other yelling voices.

"Whoever's there, we're here!"

More voices, more screams, they all appear to be grouping together save for one. As the injured bat watched from overhead, the steel one from before returned. Why? It made little sense to the undead, but he never lingered long on thoughts of why those uninfected did anything they did. The dark clouds he was futilely avoiding darkened further and brought with them a deep rumbling to mix with the roar of the flames below. The smoke and approaching darkness gave further pull for the swoobat to pursue another task.

Aligning himself to fly in the direction the more sluggish aggron was heading. From the air, the approaching mountain was not hard to make out as a landmark. One follows the other he mused to himself, and even if they didn't follow this one, he would know where to find their charred remains to snack on.

    "Yes, it does appear we're in for a storm. There's other scents as well." Olive nodded into the canine's thick fur, angling her ears outward to catch a sudden bark of a name. "George!" the Zubat shuddered, feeling the heat rising at a tremendous pace. The webbing of her rings shivered, curling as she brought her arms closer to her body and latched tighter onto the Arcanine's pelt. She opened her mouth to suggest perhaps trying to go and help the voice that they had just heard, but fell silent when someone else had called out.
    “I’ll- I’ll help you!” she let out a sigh of relief, glad that whoever else was stuck in this horrid blaze was going to be rescued. She could still feel the burns on her body sting, nipping at her frail form.
    "Everyone! We're waiting to die here! We need to get to the mountain!" her savior called, to which Olive eagerly nodded her agreement. Anything to get out of this fire, the hot embers that leaped to char her pelt. Carefully, she climbed a little upwards, trying to rest herself on the back of the Arcanine's neck away from the heat, instead of holding onto the side of her mane.
    Too busy trying to not fall off, she had barely noticed the sound of heavy footsteps as a new, rough voice spoke. The tone was a low, masculine growl, one that quickly induced fear into the bat. "Yer mean my mountain?" she could feel her fur stand on end, a queasy anxiety settling in her. "W-Who is he?" she whispered to Sahara, ears flicking back and forth. When the stranger finally agreed, Olive released a breath that she didn't realize she was holding, her grip loosening slightly on the fur beneath her. "But that place is full of undead; even I had to leave. So if we're gonna go, yer gotta pull yer weight - no slackin'! No pissing around! Got it? Good. Follow me, I know a safe route, and don't fall behind!"
    "Thank you!" she called, sputtering when more smoke invaded her lungs. Her head began to feel lighter, bile churning dangerously in her stomach as she coughed, quickly sticking her face back into the canine's fur. Despite having only just come out of the cave and into the outside world for the first time, she had no complaints about going back into the dark, damp tunnels.

[OOC: aaa rushed post. orz Stupid writer's block is only affecting Olive. :C]

Whimpering and pacing Nikora struggled to see through the thick cloud of smoke and new wave of flames that surged upward from the crash. "George!" She cried out again unsure what to do. "Dont worry," He wheezed, his voice too quiet a whisper to be heard over the roar of the inferno. “I’ll- I’ll help you!” A voice unlike the one she had heard before sounded closer then Nikora had expected. Her eyes darted through the flames, struggling to see much of anything before picking out the dark pelt of the Purrloin. The small feline surprised her, not what she was excepting in the blaze though it would explain the earlier cry for help. Staring blankly at the feline the Growlithe felt fear creeping through her fur. What could they do against fire? "I, I dont know what to do." She stammered worriedly.
--

The male squirmed and writhed away from the branch as it burned its way into his orange fur. Scrabbling at the hot earth hard with his clawed paws the Growlithe pulled his way away from his entrapment, the branch scraping his rump and tail as he slowly tried to free himself. "Are you alright??" A voice surprised him as it wasn't Nikora's but still female. Peering hard through the thick smoke he watched as a Ninetales came into view. For a moment he was taken aback by the large fox's oddly colored pelt, not at all what he knew them to look like, but passed it off as the burning at the base of his spine intensified. Quickly pulling himself completely free, the fur of his tail being yanked as a small piece of branch settled to the ground, George struggled to stand on his trembling legs. "Y-yeah," He coughed out, "Just a scratch I think." Glancing back at his pelt he could see the dark scuffed area. He sighed softly with relief; if he could still stand then it was alright.

"Everyone! We're waiting to die here! We need to get to the mountain!" Yet another new voice came from nearby. How many of us are caught up in this forest fire? Head spinning from the smoke George was grateful for the Ninetales voicing, "Whoever's there, we're here!" Breathing in the stinging hot air he tried to speak clearly though he could feel the effects of the smoke working its way into him, "We better get around this branch before they leave us behind.."
--

Sudden crashing and smashing could be heard above the blaze, terrifying the canine as she stared wide-eyed all around her. Georges voice, she could hear it though it was soft! An Aggron appeared and made her heat-ridden body feel cold. The anger and gruffness to his voice wasn't any more comforting. Taking a few steps back, ears pressed hard to her head, Nikora's paws longed to run away from the scary scence. Other Pokemon were showing up left and right, none owning the voice she had heard earlier. As the steel type told her to follow her flighty paws instantly became rooted to the spot. "Not without George!" She whimpered desperately.
Coughing hard, his own Ember spitting from deep in his throat, the male canine shook his head and looked deep into the burning branch to where he knew Nikora stood on the other side. "Go on, I'm alright." Hopefully Nikora could hear him. Hopefully, she would listen.. "I'll catch up!"

Blinking her burning eyes Nikora nodded though she still couldn't see him. "Be careful.." She whispered, her paws moving slowly after the Aggron. Don't leave me George.. For all she knew, he could be stuck, trapped even. He wouldn't tell her to go like that.. he wouldn't let her live his nightmare alone. He could die here in this fire yet he was telling her to leave! Heart aching Nikora kept her eyes on the bulky steel types tail. He will be alright, he will be alright..

"Yer mean my mountain?" Sahara scoffed. Was now the time to be picky about one's self proclaimed home? She shot a venomous stare back to the Aggron. If he didn't want Sahara herself there, fine, she was better on her own. But these strangers deserved a chance to get away from the blaze.
"W-Who is he?" Olive asked. Sahara knew the Steel-Type probably hated her, which made answering a bit difficult. "His name is Smith. He... isn't so bad." He had somewhat good reason, but was more or less, childishly bitter.

"...Fine, but that place is full of undead; even I had to leave. So if we're gonna go, yer gotta pull yer weight - no slackin'! No pissing around! Got it? Good. Follow me, I know a safe route, and don't fall behind!"

The pack-- The group, moved North towards the mountain. Sahara cantered behind everyone else, watching that nobody strayed or was cut off, instinct of a canine. Smith looked back to her occasionally, as if he were monitoring her. I would not be surprised.
Thunder rumbled distantly, making it's way closer to Sahara's pack. As they followed along, Sahara was noticeably far behind. What was her looking out for the group turned into a struggle to keep up, the wound left by her foe bleeding more profusely and slowing her down.

"Once we reach the mountain, things might get a bit rough. Hang on tightly." Sahara warned, pained breaths between words.
In an instant, everything was blinding white. Sahara skidded to a halt, the light finally dulling and giving sight back to the dazed Arcanine.
Lightning had struck a tree on Sahara's right, igniting even more fire and sending it crashing down in front of her.
"Son of a--!" She screeched, looking at the roadblock in her path. "Okay, not a big deal... Hold on."

Sahara gave herself some distance from the tree, before taking off in with speed her species was known for. She leapt over the tree with some kind of grace, landing triumphantly on the other side. Her paws took off in a sprint, ignoring the pain her wounds were causing and catching up with the group.

Katyusha watched as the growlithe pulled himself agonizingly from under one of the fallen branches. Despite this mishap he appeared able to stand...and hopefully able to run. Already the fire type could feel her body beginning to show a few signs of fatigue. Her paws ached dully and a part of her mind whispered for her to lay down, to rest, but it was ignored wholly. The ninetales' breath was escaping her in small pants from her open mouth. This was no time to stop. The tree that had fallen had thrown up quite a bit of flames. If there was a way to walk around, it wasn't in obvious site...at least without walking right through flames. For Katyusha it was do-able, but for the fire type beside her she doubted it was.

"We better get around this branch before they leave us behind.."

He was right. The vulpine's blue eyes darting about their surroundings furiously as he mind worked the same speed to try and think of some solution, a safe path, a way out. She prided herself on being the rational sort. If a peaceful path was an option, she would gladly venture down it. Words and thoughts can be sharper than impulses and actions. However, for the moment the sharpness of the ninetales' graying tails would have to do. The time left to think had already passed.

In one swift swooshing motion the fox gathers all nine tails into one conformed shape. Once they are together all color leaked from their being. A new luster shone over the old as what was once flesh and fur condensed to be has hard as iron. Digging her claws into the soft earth Katyusha swings her body around and smashes her tails against the fallen tree. Against the main hulk of the tree it only makes a shallow indent. Several more attempts prove futile. At this rate her iron tail would tire her out before that trunk snapped!

"Damn it..."

The words escaped as a low growl under the vulpine's breath. Giving up on her frontal attack her tails once again relaxed and returned to their vibrant red hue. Almost on instinct her body moved, her claws finding a new purpose from holding her steady to kneading and scraping furiously at the ground below. There was more than one way to get around an obstacle. Dirt flung out behind the black and red fox as she dug. The soil proving soft enough and her actions furious enough to dislodge enough earth to bring hope back to her. After a few moments her hole was deep enough for her front half to fit in. If she could just fit through! Then she was sure the other fire type could! Desperate to complete her task, Katyusha shoves herself through the incomplete hole. Her form squirming to break free to the other side, but there was resistance.

"Nononononononono!" This was not the time to get stuck!!

As the swoobat closed in on the survivors' shared goal Zephyr's mind increasingly came to relay on instinct. His wings tilt to catch the proper currents to propel his burned form forward. Pain was becoming a farther and farther topic from his damaged mind and it did little to hinder his flight. When the entrance to stark mountain arises before him he swoops inside without a second thought. Whatever infected were in this cave would either work with his plans or be killed. To him his failure was not possible, but his successful was only inevitable.

As the darkness within the cave began to overwhelm the courting pokemon's sight his echolocation took over. Large blue ears twisted and twitched about to catch each signal that rebounded back to his battered form. This was his element. With ease the infected swings and flies deeper into the depths of the cave. Initially he found no others inside, but Zephyr knew they were there. The scent of rot and decay only grew stronger the deeper he flew.