Pavelle sighed. At least he wasn't trying to tickle her any more. And she actually was hungry still. She might have forgotten that or shoved it aside in her alarm, trying to get away from him. But it was true. She sighed again, unwrapping the bar, taking a bite. Like she had suspected, it was dry, but somehow it tasted really good. Probably because her stomach was so empty. Her Felix might be used to skipping meals, and she had done that herself at home when funds had gotten short. But being in the woods, walking all over the place, this was different. A bone-deep kind of hungry. She found herself being very grateful for the bar, and she didn't like that. By her count, she was getting too far in debt to him. She didn't know what she could do to make it up. So his last question, especially, was dangerous. Not in a life-or-death-he's-gonna-eat-me way, but in a I've-already-accepted-too-much way. "Well. I guess I'll just go back to the dirt circle, that place where you found me," she said carefully. "I can climb a tree, hide up there and wait. It's not like I don't have arms. Or legs, you know. Like. Those things. That you walk on. I have those." She paused before grumbling, "I wish you would just put me down." Crossing her arms and shooting him a look, before taking another bite of the energy bar, chewing slowly, trying to deceive her stomach into thinking that the bar was bigger than it really was."Good point" Felix said, moving her around to hold her in both arms, "I shall have to tickle you later... But, that doesn't mean I'm not carrying you back to the wolf." He continued to move on, examining the woods as he took his windy path back to where they'd come from. "So, when do you suppose your brother will come looking for you? And if he doesn't find you by nightfall, where will you stay?"
After a moment, she swallowed and looked to Jack, saying, "Mainly that... well, I'm just going to call it an oven, even if it's not... Mainly that 'oven' has a fuel source, like gas, that it burns up. The burning happens inside the oven's body, for safety reasons, and probably out of necessity, too. When the fuel source burns, it heats the air inside the metal body. Then, if I understood Mr. Raccoons-Are-Too-Weak-To-Walk over here, the 'oven' uses the hot air to change the fire's energy, or it's power--" not exactly knowing which terms he didn't understand, --"into electricity, a different kind of power, which the 'oven' then uses in turn to cook food. It cooks faster and has less smoke than a normal fire, which is why Felix uses it instead. Less of a hassle." Well, she thought she'd explained it right.
Rachav snapped her head to the east, listening intently. She could feel her heart pounding, trying to distract her. And her muscles all clenching in preparation of whatever had to happen. Her body was wound so tight that she was shaking a little, her ears focused like radars to that terrible noise. Humans. They were here, and they were close.Wurrr Wurrr Wurrrrrrrrrr.. (echo: wurr wurr wurrrrrrr) silence ......
Wurr Wurr Wurrrrrrrrrrr (echo: wurr wurr wurrrrrrrrr) silence again..
She forced herself to turn her head to face North again and whispered, body and voice quivering alike, if not her nerve, "That must be them. Now. We will stay hidden for as long as possible, in hope that the bikers won't turn this way. We cannot see them yet, so it could be any amount of time before we act-- seconds, minutes, even tens of minutes. If we have any luck at all, they will not turn down here but ride straight past. If not... you remember what I said before. I will make myself known to them. You wait, and if necessary circle back to camp with my directions." She looked at him, her eyes focused on his, and there was a bleak, powerful light to her gaze. "Do not fail me if that happens. Do not."
"And other times..." he muttered, but then...I would not let it worry you, some times that is a good thing.
The exodus had begun to arrive. There was a sharp whistle from one of the guards around the perimeter, catching Griffon's and probably Kikyo's attention alike. A moment later the first members began hurrying in, shoulders and backs hunched, heads down, trying their best to look small and unnoticeable while the threat of discovery hung in the air. Many of them had been shocked by the Animal Control raid recently, and that had been the first time in the history of this camp that it had been forced to choose: either move or lose everything and everyone. Grif had had to make that decision, leading to this period of constant struggle, moving about like a nomad group, danger on every side (if not humans, then other ferals who had already claimed their own lands) at every time, and a less noticeable but perhaps even more dangerous threat... that of being completely worn out, burned out, too tired to continue to fight and move. There had begun to develop an unhappy restlessness that he could feel in the camp, even if the others did not yet see it. If things continued the way they were, it would become a problem soon, even despite the camp's loyalty. And today's events were not helping anything.
But. Now there was work to be done. The brooding, the seclusion from the camp as he tried to work out what to do to keep this all alive, that could come later. First, work. Always, work.
There was a steady stream of members trickling in to those few already gathered here. Quite a number of them were carrying in supplies, setting them as quickly as possible on the ground, and then running without pause, panting with exertion and fear, back out of camp. Someone had told them to grab what they could to clear out the old camp and bring it here. Maybe Kelley, or Isma. Or Rachav. Good.
Another group was arriving. A set of three herding the pups in with whispered commands. Grif counted. All eight young ones, good. All eight of them with eyes wide and sniffling noses, on the verge of tears, frightened, confused. That was not so good.
Griffon's voice was lowered, even though the bikers weren't here. Live by example. "Okay. Pups, kits. And you three, Jaz, Crosby, Gwen. All of you," he looked at each shortly in turn. "You need to help with organization of supplies. Take the supplies the others are dumping here, and organize them into little groups that can be evenly distributed between members in case we should have to leave this place quickly. No more than what one person can carry, got it? Any extra supplies, leave stacked together in a pile. Somewhere hidden --in the bushes-- would be best. Remember. Everyone does his or her part. Go on now." He nodded to himself as they began to organize, the three leaders telling the kids again what to do, in easier terms. Giving something for them to do should distract them from their fear.
"Lady Kikyo, can you think of anything else we should be doing that I've forgotten to command? Or anything you can think of that I could do myself. I'm going a little stir-crazy." Not just a little, but he wouldn't let her know that. He ached to be on the front lines, as it were. For a while, leadership had meant having to do things yourself so that others would follow. Then he had gained the camp's trust, their loyalty. Now. Now it was standing and handing out orders, making sure everyone followed them, and you yourself... not necessarily doing much. He hated that. That was his sacrifice to make. And the odd thing was, sometimes others looked down on him for it, thought him weak for making that sacrifice as if he actually wanted to limit himself, disliked him "for not doing anything", thought he didn't pull his weight, whispered when they thought he couldn't hear... as if they understand him completely. They could try. He didn't think many, if any, would succeed.
((Just a thought... Venison could be following the wrong raccoon's tracks. Felix wouldn't be happy about that. Just another option for ya, Buck. Heh.))