where to from here?

the salem woman has never found herself lost at sea. to be frank, she had never had time to stop and realise that she had no plan or no idea as to what she would like to do next. she had no family ties that bound her to these lands - she could keep on her journey and leave this place whenever she liked. but fallon craved rest, as much as she fought with herself internally on the fact. the girl would never admit that she was prone to weakness - physical or emotional. and thus, a part of her wanted to find a good enough reason to stay so that she may feel better about her state of mind and body.

grey figurine lounges on a small patch of dirt near the pond, bright pink gaze surveying the pale pink birds that strutted about this body of water. fallon salem had never seen such a thing - it was quite the show. lying on pale undersides, the lithe figurine lounges in the late afternoon sun, ears flickering as she attempts to keep an eye on her surroundings whilst also allowing herself to be enthralled in the flamingo show.

+5 study the landscape of an area""

More often than not his head was spinning on some demented axis. He woke up with his mouth tasting like death and a thrumming pain in his temples. He'd been gritting his teeth in his sleep. If Nico were to go to the doctor's, the man would pull on some vinyl gloves and kindly notify him that he had a mild concussion. He would ask him what year it was, who was the prime minister or president or emperor of your country, and what's your name young man? But there were no such luxuries here. All he could do was wait out the aching as the sun continued to rise and the day went on without him, not giving a shit. He walked down a dirt path presumably leading to nowhere, but by the end of it he found a stranger and a pond filled with some creatures he'd never seen before. They sure did look like prey -- spindly and tall, shaped like a ladle, dumb beady eyes staring out the sides of their golf club heads. Most of all, they were pink. Did he really need any other hint from god? His gaze flicked over to the dark girl. Even from here, he could tell her eyes and nose were pink, not so unlike those birds. He drew closer at an angle, wanting to hide the wounds on the side of his ribs. "How d'ya reckon they got that way?" he asked, tail held at a jaunty upwards curl and smiling through the tail-end of his headache. ooc: wondering if we could date this a couple days later - just want to keep his timeline more consistent. if not then that's ok too, it isn't necessary ^_^ @Fallon

pink gaze diverts from flamboyant birds to strange man that sidled along the pond's edge and loomed near. she can't be sure but there is something strange about the way that this male holds himself - either he was uncertain or there was something physically ailing him. fallon would know all too well - she certainly felt quite tender after such a long journey. the stranger too appears rather taken by the birds - or at least curious as to their origins. "lack of sleep?" the salem figurine offers as a possible option, watching as the pink birds would migrate to and fro in a throng - a weird dance that was both entertaining and uncomfortable to watch. the only time fallon had found herself faltering in her steps had been when she had travelled for two days straight with no rest. perhaps these loony birds had succumbed to the same fate. "do you think they taste delicious?" the grey yearling asks her newfound company, pink gaze studying him now with pensive curiosity.

@Nico

Lack of sleep? came her reply, and Nico couldn't help but crack a smile. "They seem all fuddled up," he mused. "At the same time, they're too pretty t'be plain varmint." They swayed back and forth like one whole superorganism, one buckling pink amoeba. Now that he was closer, he appraised her with a slant of his head, flicking his tattered ears. She seemed bright, and was looking up at him with a similar sort of inquisitiveness. In truth, he was just thankful that there wasn't going to be violence directed at him yet, and he appreciated how she didn't immediately go for his throat at the first smell of weakness -- he wasn't exactly making it difficult to notice. "I'd bet the fur off my back that they are," he replied, already calculating how he'd sneak around upwind of them, before lunging forwards with just enough force applied to the ground, haunches flexed then released. He ignored the twinge from his side as he jerked his chin towards the flamingos, his face set in a grin that was more than a little impish. "How'd ya think. Bull rush 'em or sneak 'round 'em?" @Fallon

as the male draws nearer, fallon salem can fully assess the scars and injuries that mar his hide. a warrior perhaps? though on simple observation, fallon could not determine if he was a good or bad warrior. "does your opponent look far worse?" she asks innocently enough, tone sweet and silky though in the mischievous smirk, a cheekiness transpires. though she much prefers the shadows and knowing everyone's secrets, the grey yearling must admit that the sheer idea of war and battle does excite her so.

she manages a small chuckle at his remark - he had a point. if they weren't so eye catching, perhaps they would have long been hunted to extinction. the male seems to be on the same wavelength as she, musing aloud as to the tastiness of the flamingos. he suggests two potential options and after a small moment, fallon comes up with a plan of attack: "i will sneak around them, drive them straight to you if you hide behind that rock," she explains, motioning towards the afore-mentioned stone with a swift motion of her head. she was bossy but she had never been one to rest on her laurels for others to provide guidance.

@Nico

The girl mentioned his opponent and it took a moment for him to catch up. More and more, he found it easy to miss footholds during conversations. Must have been a side effect of staying to himself for too long. "Naw," he flashed a toothy grin. "But it ain't anythin' to write home about." To her plan, he issued a languid nod. "Go 'head." Nico was careful to hide the extent of his wound, but inklings of uncertainty swam under the floorboards of his skull. It'd sure be a hit to his pride if he was the one to cost them a hearty meal, but more than anything, it'd be an admission of loss. Of an inability to protect himself. For someone who'd prided themselves on being a lone wolf, it wasn't an easy pill to swallow. He walked, steady and easy, to the stone, and crouched behind it, tail flicking back and forth like a crop in a saddled bandit's hand. @Fallon

he agrees to her plan and with a small nod, the monochrome yearling carefully eyes a path that will give her a wide enough berth around the flamingos - a rather off putting prey with their dead, vacant eyes. but nevertheless, food was food and fallon would not be picky in such a time of need. she crouches low amongst the tall grass that grew by the banks of the pond, moving when the wind would still to keep her scent hidden from the flock. she braces herself when she reaches the opposite side of the pond, bright pink eyes peeking through the reeds as she eyes which direction she might be best to take to give her makeshift hunting partner the best shot at bringing down a bird.

after a small pause, fallon propels herself forward - lurching out of the tall grass and wading into the shallow waters, teeth bared and an aggressive snarl expressed from the depths of her chest. the pink flamingos scatter, startled and struggling to contemplate the best plan of action. she continues to pounce here and there in the water, hoping to herd them to where the male lay crouched, holding her breath to see if she would be eating something substantial tonight. @Nico

The gunmetal girl sidled around the flock, methodical and patient. She moved with the certainty of a pendulum swinging back and forth, enough for Nico to be impressed -- not that he was any master huntsman himself. His ears perked up as a guttural snarl sounded from across the pond, immediately followed by an explosion of pink plumage. Most take off to the air, stumbling through the shallows, but some remain on the ground. He'd never learned the specifics of avian body language, but he can take a guess that she's scared the living daylights out of them. One, blind with fear, stumbled a step too close to him -- "Attaboy," he said, before taking a tremendous leap, all four hundred seventy pounds of him against a medium-sized flamingo. He snapped its neck with a clean jerk of his chin and let out a sharp gasp of pain through his mouthful of feathers. Vaguely, he hoped that his wound hadn't opened up again. His heart still pounding, he looked to the girl with his tail held up high in the feline equivalent of a thumbs-up. @Fallon

when the panic and the pink feathers die down, fallon salem feels a wave of exhaustion wash over her thin body as she wades through the shallow waters to where she had last seen her newest acquaintance, hoping that he'd snared them a meal. from a distance, the salem yearling spies the upright stand of his tail and figures that this must mean good news. tired and now wet, the grey yearling is pleased to see a dead flamingo by the male's paws - a sense of relief washing over her as she approaches.

one paw comes to slap the carcass of the flamingo, poking the dead bird and giving a small sniff, "not a lot of meat on this thing, is there?" not unlike herself, she thought inwardly. she pauses, motioning for the male to take the first bite and when she is sure that he has had opportunity to get started, the salem figurine digs in herself, tearing voraciously at the flesh of the pink bird. the meat wasn't as flavoursome or tender as she had expected but it was music to her stomach, fallon simply glad that she was eating.

it is as she comes up for air that her pink gaze spies a fresh oozing wound on her hunting partner, a dark brow quirking upwards: "did it get you?" @Nico