Island of the Fomors, Sunday Morning
Apr. 25th, 2015 04:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grand_fallguyTheir pursuers caught up with them at dawn the next day. Well, intercepted. As it turned out, none of them knew how to track. They were either aquatic Fae, or had grown up in a land environment not conducive to tracking down escaped prisoners on a tropical island.
But sure enough they had realized that the only hope of salvation the trio had was in getting to a boat. So they'd started there, and began searching all possible avenues to the dock.
“Hide!” Tim hissed at Robin and Gobo. “You're our ace in the hole no pun intended.”
Loathe to leave their friends, the tiny adventurers never the less heeded Tim's advice.
He launched himself at the nearest Fomorian, a seven foot fish man with teeth like an angler-fish.
“Get Ana out of here!” he cried to Leda. He was sort of armed, but he knew that Leda stood a much better chance of getting the kid to safety.
Reflexively, the Fomor tried to bite his attacker. Which failed. Sort of. He did manage to recapture Tim, in a manner of speaking.
While Leda fled with Ana, who kept wanting to go back and help, everyone else just sort of stared at Tim, and his captor. The chain of the shackles was tangled in the thing's teeth. It stood there, not sure what to do now, Tim dangling by the wrists from it's mouth.
“Well.” he sighed. “Don't leave me hanging.”
[Up early for reasons. Continued from the previous post in this journal. And to be continued here.]
But sure enough they had realized that the only hope of salvation the trio had was in getting to a boat. So they'd started there, and began searching all possible avenues to the dock.
“Hide!” Tim hissed at Robin and Gobo. “You're our ace in the hole no pun intended.”
Loathe to leave their friends, the tiny adventurers never the less heeded Tim's advice.
He launched himself at the nearest Fomorian, a seven foot fish man with teeth like an angler-fish.
“Get Ana out of here!” he cried to Leda. He was sort of armed, but he knew that Leda stood a much better chance of getting the kid to safety.
Reflexively, the Fomor tried to bite his attacker. Which failed. Sort of. He did manage to recapture Tim, in a manner of speaking.
While Leda fled with Ana, who kept wanting to go back and help, everyone else just sort of stared at Tim, and his captor. The chain of the shackles was tangled in the thing's teeth. It stood there, not sure what to do now, Tim dangling by the wrists from it's mouth.
“Well.” he sighed. “Don't leave me hanging.”
[Up early for reasons. Continued from the previous post in this journal. And to be continued here.]
