Dreyvon Leogwyn - Male - 26 - Horse Breeder - Bobcat - Mentions: Open, then Reen

Dreyvon watched the pair leave before once again moving between the other animals making sure to put the paperwork in a pocket on his shirt. He patted the pocket after closing the door and began to walk through town waving to those that were also just beginning to rise in the morning. "Good mornining." He winked at a couple girls who were gathering water before bowing towards a couple others with a tip of his head.

Dreyvon soon found himself standing outside of his cousin's tavern and knocked on the door waiting for the it to either open or wait to sneak around the back and see if Reen was awake. Normally he would be headed out looking around for others or working with the horses but this morning he wanted to check on the younger woman.

He viewed Reen as more of a sibling than a cousin since they had all grown up close to each other. "Good morning Reen. I hope you haven't decided to stay in bed all day. You never know who might be lurking around waiting for you to just open the door."

He called waiting a few moments for a reply before leaning against the wall by the door. Today he was feeling a little more adventerous and wanted to see what all he could help with since Nala was out for a couple of days.

If only he didn't have to escape. Artem's fear had grown smaller bit by bit. He was now a bit more agitated with himself. He was unable to pull himself out of this situation, which this circumstance barely happened. He was known for being slick and agile, able to easily get away. However he seemed to have been proven wrong today.

When Max stepped on his wrist he pulled his elbow backwards in a futile attempt to free himself. To no avail he found chains encircling both his wrists. If he helped down his own? He didn't know if he could do that. Perhaps someone he really disliked... No. That was horrible to think of.

"Or you could give a pass saying to leave me alone." He hissed under his breath. The axe finally left the back of his neck and a wave or relief washed over him. Pushing himself up from the dirt he turned himself over so that he was sitting up. He eyed the cuffs locked around his wrists, but tried not to be too obvious about it.

For the moment he was glad Max wasn't about to kill him, and he didn't intend to think about the part where he was going to be made to hunt down other shifters. He'd reserve that for later. The shifters of Fellborn were capable of fending for themselves after all.

He turned his head as he noticed another figure walking from the bushes. Just the sight of him unnerved the boy. A different kind of disturbing then the feeling he got from Max. From his conversation with Max, he could only infer that this man was the leader of the hunters.

Tallinn was up before dawn, as usual. Sam was still asleep. Her wound was still painful, but the salve and bandages had proven quite helpful. The slash was deep, but it would certainly heal, given a week or so. However, the blood on her tunic was a stain that wouldn't wash out, and her clothing spanning across her shoulder to neck was slashed. As a safety precaution - one most people wouldn't even consider - she would have to find new garments. She could not seem weakened by injury, accident prone - a result of stupidity, often - or at all noticable.

A wound was an indication of one of many things - a temper, stupidity, guilt. Tallinn thought ahead, as always - she could never throw herself into danger by such simple means. The girl wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders, drawing her hood further forward, pulling her mask over her nose.

She had to leave. At dawn, she still had a chance at located a deer herd. At dawn, she would be able to slip into the town unnoticed. At dawn, the patrols were focused to the east, where morning travelers entered the village. The shadows would fall on the west side of the village - all excellent conditions for a safe passage into town. She girl knew this, not simply from experience, but also assumptions. As she always had, she observed. She watched, waited, gathered information, then analyzed, but her intelligent brain to use. It had saved her from trouble many a day.

But she had to leave. Now. Quickly, Tallinn scratched a note in the dirt to same. Sorry, it read, I have to go. Thank you for everything. She pulled an arrow from her quiver, and placed it at the scrawl in the dirt. It was customary for an archer to leave an arrow as a symbol of gratitude - for Tallinn, at least.

The girl was already jogging away from the cave as the morning light burst through the trees. Tallinn was careful, constantly observant, watching, waiting. Her intelligent gaze flicked across the animal tracks, catching Sabine's quite easily. She tracked parallel to Sabine's trail - she did not wish to run headfirst into trouble, yet wanted to remain downwind.

Yet, sure enough, trouble arrived eagerly to Tallinn. A fight had taken place. The frantic pounding of hooves, the deep imprints of heavy boots running, pushing off, lunging. The snapped twigs from the beating of wings, a fallen branch. Only a scant few seconds, and the scene materialized before Tallinn. She traced the tracks, until they came alive, bursting into life. The girl could nearly hear the screams.

No. Hunters - they attacked Sabine and Nyx both.

River. The trail ends here - she must have gone to the river. Did she travel up or downstream? Sabine's personality is bold, confident, slightly aggressive at times. She may have attempted an upstream journey - she probably assumed it would throw off most trackers. They would have assumed she trekked downstream, as it would be easier on her limbs. Additionally, the trail of broken twings lead slightly southbound - parallel to the river, upstream.

Tallinn was running, leaping, darting through the foilage. Her mind, her logic was screaming objections. Her fingers danced along the soft curve of her bow nervously, and her heart pounded in her lungs - fear. Her mind tumbled, whirled, calculated, analyzed. It was exhausting, really.

Tallinn found herself at the base of a rock ledge by the creek - upwards lie a cave. Immediately, Tallinn understood. That was where the pair was. A dark trail of stained rock marked Sabine's ascent - dried blood. So she had climbed. To find shelter - this meant the injuries weren't fatal, but dire enough to require immediate shelter.

But Tallinn heard a slight waver of voices nearby. She froze, shrinking away, before she realized she recognized the voice - Sabine. Tallinn hesitated.

No, she reminded herself. I will not let worry get the better of me.

Tallinn, still in human form for the sake of her shoulder, began forward at a brisk pace, remaining hidden, engulfed in the shadows of the towering pines. She remained downwind from the voices - a precaution. Yet it was not neccessary - sure enough, it was Sabine and Nyx - Nyx in her owl form, Sabine in her human.

Tallinn stepped forward, seemingly out of nowhere.

The wounds were horrible. Nyx was crumpled and unconscious, and Sabine's shoulder and leg dripped with dried blood.

"What happened?" Tallinn managed, dark eyes compeltely unreadable.

Coalstin || 19 - I think. || Male || Hunter/Tracker || M: Tove, Max, Artem

Coal dropped down, gratefully accepting his portion of the rabbit. He watched as she chuckled to herself, and Coal raised an eyebrow. "Are you that hilarious?" he inquired sarcastically.

She asked how he slept. Coal snorted, leaning lazily on a tree trunk.

"I spent my night sprawled across a branch some eight feet from the ground. How do you think I slept?" He joked, flashing his trademark grin.

Suddenly, Coal stood, eyes flashing. He... felt a presence. It was part of his odd tracking skills - it was as if he could simply insintively know when another creature was near. More than one figure, both large - not an animal. Human. Coal jerked back, vanishing behind a particularly large tree. He gestured for Tove to follow. "Don't shift," he whispered. If she wanted to survive, she would have to stay in human form.

The young man pulled his crossbow from his back, knocking an arrow.

There. Sure enough, a pair moved forward. One, the young shifter boy Coal had found yesterday. Another - a fellow hunter. Maximillian. Coal stiffened. He rested a hand on Tove's shoulder - a warning.

"Don't move." He muttered, then stepped forward.

"Lucky hunt? What'dya got there, Max?" he inquired, posture relaxed, almost lazy. The boy was in chains. Why?