[ P ] Hell in a Handbasket

Everything was going to, well, hell. And yet it was all contained in castle halls, a carefully curated handbasket. Wolves were fleeing and the sounds of struggle caused Victorian's heart to pound. A din of voices welled up from the western side of the ballroom whilst the growls of combat richoeted off of the high ceilings to the east. The haphazard click click click of nails on stone accented the sudden frenzied energy of the ball. It joined the dance of Victorian's heart as he stared at the chaos, golden eyes wide and round.

For a moment, he was frozen.

A girl sprinted by, her eyes green and her fur brown, and suddenly fear surged through him with painful awareness. "Manon—" He gasped, turning his head. He had lost both Ace and Manon in the bustling hubub. Dark ears stood straight up as he tried to catch their scents in vein. He couldn't even see their faces what with the masks.

He flinched as a pair of wolves ran by and shoved him back. Then he was forced to dance forward as another bumped against his hip. Through the din, he heard a little yelp and stared with shock as a little boy curled up in a ball on the floor, clearly separated from his guardians. Shifting and dodging, Victorian tried to make his way but it was too difficult. He soon found himself sandwiched against a fairly large man and, desperate, he tried to point to the pup.

"Can you help me?" He yelled, trying to be heard over the chaos. "Please?"

art: snow-body + code: claerie

@Grigori

To say Grigori was confused would be an understatement. One moment he was minding his own business and stuffing his muzzle with a rather delightful torch-roasted partridge leg – unlike anything he ever tasted before, really, it was a struggle not to eat so fast that it would burn his tongue. The next everyone was in an uproar and running about, knocking down food and sending it flying to the ground.. including his own, much to his dismay. Well, he could tell that something was going on, so perhaps food wasn’t the biggest priority. For someone so prone to making himself worry, the cowboy was surprisingly immune to outside circumstances; he simply moved with the flow of panicked wolves until he could stop in a spot where he wasn’t much in anyone’s way, though some black and white male still ended up being pushed up to his side. From there, he just watched the chaos, unhurriedly trying to make some sense of it.

Until he realized that Aryth had to be somewhere in the midst of it. Without Grigori to keep him safe.

He muttered under his nose, cursing himself for being dumb enough not to think of that immediately. As if in response, a desperate voice filled his ears.. the wolf next to him. Grigori looked to where he was pointing and noticed the kid, somehow still safe from any trampling paws. The blonde brute’s expression furrowed in frustration. He didn’t have time for this, he had to find Aryth, or at the very least take down whoever was behind this entire uproar. That would solve all problems, wouldn’t it? He was ready to start making his way through the crowd, ignoring the stranger’s pleas..

But Aryth wouldn’t leave that kid behind.

A sigh fell from his lips and he nodded. “Follow.” was all he said before he started to pave the way, pushing wolves aside with his shoulder. A solution that wasn’t elegant or particularly considerate, but well-suited for a brute like him. When it comes to size, Grigori wasn’t necessarily the biggest one, but he was stocky and heavy. Braced as he was, most wolves just bounced off as if they hit a boulder. The bigger ones were enough to leave a bruise, but it was the masks he was most concerned with. His own had horns, so he had take care not to impale anyone – care that few others seemed to be taking. “Fuck!” he hissed as something relatively sharp snagged his side and left behind a cut. The wound burned, and he could feel blood trickle down his skin.. but unpleasant as that might be, it would take much more to deter him.

But reaching the boy was the extent of Grigori’s plan. He stood in front of him, against the flow of the tide of wolves. Fortunately, as an immobile obstacle he seemed to be enough of a deterrent that people managed to find a way around instead of ramming into him. He looked back, hoping that the other male was able to follow behind him and had some idea as to what should be done next. If only they could get away from the crowd.. but Grigori hardly knew his way around the place even when it still was a ball, now he wasn’t even sure where the exit was. Well.. aside from the fact that it most likely was in the direction everyone was running to, though it might not even be his first guess.


„*”

Once he caught sight of the pup, everything else faded away. The wolves that pushed past were just blurs, blots of black and white and earthen fur that blocked his view in the same manner that clouds blocked the sky. Each time one would pass, Victorian's gaze would refocus on the little boy and the soldier's heart would thud painfully within his chest. He would flinch, too, whenever a wolf's paws passed by too closely. As if watching might turn this into a movie script, one in which the pup would be scooped up to safety at any moment.

But he wasn't.
Victorian was desperate and he turned to the stocky man that was like a boulder lodged within the sea. For a moment, he thought his pleas were lost on the stranger—be it due to lack of understanding or empathy, the soldier couldn't say. Fear for the boy began to meld with Victorian's own anxiety from the stampede and his worries for Manon. He opened his mouth to say something else, to command it really when—"Follow."

And the boulder moved. The seas parted, forcibly at first as this perpendicular path cause wolves to spit curses and brush by. Victorian followed, like a minow in a boat's wake. His teeth grit as elbows and hips bumped against his own, but the current here was not quite so raucus as when he had been alone.

When they reached the pup, Victorian took his first breath in what felt like minutes. He bent down, scanning the child for injuries. Blood oozed from a torn ear but, otherwise... Glancing up, he found the stranger staring back at him as if awaiting some new request. Victorian stared dumbly back, notes of thankfulness in his gaze, when he suddenly realized why the wolf was waiting.

They needed to get the boy to safety, didn't they? And frankly, Victorian did not have the physique nor the authority to carve out a path.

"Over to the wall?" He asked, raising his voice to be heard over the masses. There were fewer wolves there, at least. And, with all the alcoves and little nooks and crannies, they'd get a moment (and perhaps a small vantage point) with which to breathe and see over the crowd.

Bending over, he scooped the pup up by his scruff to which he could hear barely audible protests.

art: snow-body + code: claerie

@Grigori

It would seem the stranger was as ready for the next step as Grigori was. In the few moments they stared at each other with uncertainty, he felt a faint kinship of sorts; they both might have the same tendency to act without thinking for what they perceive to be right.. even if the cowboy's impulses were more on the violent end, instead of protective. And where he would have just bullheadedly continued until a more acceptable destination was reached by chance, the black and white male was quick enough to improvise the next step. Grigori simply nodded, stepping forward to pave the way once more.

It was slower going this time. Although the crowd was thinning instead of growing stronger, he couldn't move as quickly, unwilling to risk not giving the other enough of a window to follow with an uncooperative child in tow. Grigori couldn't remember the last time his shoulder took this much of a beating, and with the cut from earlier he was none too pleased about it. He could vent some frustration with a guttural growl and curled back lips, but even that did little do deter wolves from crashing into him. He could only grit his teeth and carry on.. fortunately, he's been taught from a young age the value of focusing on the task at hand no matter the adversity.

The indented wall did offer a reprieve, if only for a moment. A voice behind him called out a name he didn't quite catch, and before Grigori could even turn around to see who was approaching, he got shoved to the side. Unlike all the wolves who ran into him along the way, this one was quite purposeful, forcing him to step to the side and knock down a food platter that has somehow managed to survive the chaos until now. Taking a deep breath, the blonde male chose to remain on the sideline and looked away to the flowing crowd, letting his companion deal with what he presumed to be a concerned and not particularly grateful parent. Grigori couldn't say he was surprised, it's not like he would have a trusted a big wolf wearing a skull mask with a lost kid himself.. but it still stung.

With this little quest being hopefully over, he could turn his thoughts to his own concerns.. but there wasn't much he could do about them at the moment. He'd sooner find water in a desert than Aryth in this chaos, and there was a limit to how long he could fight the crowd. And since there's no way he'd leave on his own.. there's no choice but to wait for a while. "What got everyone to light a shuck, anyway?" he asked, almost casually. One thing was certain - the all-present panic certainly wasn't getting to him. Ah, how many times he'd wished this bravado also extended to social interactions.


„*”