Night of 172/Super Early Morning of 173

[espigeon]

[Hi, did you want a radio message at two in the morning? A minute ago Julien yelled "No!" which might have been audible in the rooms to either side.

He's very distracted but has enough of his wits now to not want to cause a panic. His human form is using the angel language he learned in Portland. Only a few other carnies understand it, and his voice has the artificial flatness of someone who's learned to speak calmly in bad situation. His breath keeps catching in a pained way, though, and he doesn't know it but he's only got a minute or so left.]

I took Reira to see me in the stable. There are wolves. They're taking us outside somewhere. Servants are not part of this.

I will try to help her. Any way I can.

It's my fault.

Comments

[espigeon]

[There's blood on the cobbles outside of the stables, both spilled and tracked as paw prints and bird... tracks. Julien's a big white blotch in the trees, surrounded by a constellation of eyes appearing and disappearing, ringed in dim white light.

He's bigger than or of a size with the darker, harder-to-see dire wolf, but the animal has him by the throat and is keeping his head down low, pulling him along a step or two at a time. Not all of the blood is Julien's, but he's clearly the worse off of the pair and in no position to fight.

The eyes he's manifesting, which un-manifest as he's pulled away from their short range, are pointing in all kinds of directions. In the dark he sees a flash of someone familiar and takes the moment to make the effort to speak. Watching him he's not indicating a direction, you wouldn't think he's speaking to anyone in particular. Maybe the wolf.]

Leave!

[But concentrating on that plus what he's saying on the radio with his other body means his resistance falters. The wolf gets him to the edge of the chasm, braces all four paws, and heaves him, scrabbling, over the edge. With a flash of wings and eyes, he's gone.]

[osteothropy]

[As disquieting as the blood is, Sans would be inclined to listen to that advice - he's already seen where they were taken, and by what. That is what he came for, not to intervene. He wanted the opportunity to see more evidence, for a better hope of reclaiming them in the future.

This is where he would teleport away without a word, heeding Julien's advice, wide eyed with concern. But he can't, for some reason.

He's not sure what that reason is, at first. Like, maybe he's too started to concentrate on the spell, or maybe he's just frozen up all together. In reality, a more sinister reason lurks, as Sans tries to rationalize his own lack of action.]

"You're out late. Aren't you?"

[A jolt of fear goes through Sans's body. He recognizes that voice easily.

He turns around and sees the Prince.]