ArchivedLogs:Stranded

Stranded
Dramatis Personae Anette and Killian
In Absentia	2016-02-18 "I forgot how quiet the world could be."
Location Palisades Interstate Park
The sun had already started to fall in the sky by the time they're well on their way to a place well beyond the city limits. Within Palisades Interstate Park- a place just north-west of the previously promised Hook Mountain. Even by car, it would only be an hour and a quarter. By wing, of course, far less. The wind is bitter at higher altitudes, calmer at lower, and ever-so-slightly warmer still as the red tail hawk that is Killian angles towards a less-human-frequented lake called Silver Mine. The sky is clear. Beautifully so, star-peppered with the fewest grey wisps that pass by. Where the hawk lands is on the shingled old roof of an old miner's cabin that's in pretty rough shape. But if nothing else, it's more than a tent or supplies that the shapeshifter himself can't carry and fly at the same time. And, it has a fantastic view. Perched on a gentle incline, through the older oaks with their wide trunks, the black of the still lake waters shine in the night's lights. It's clear he's been here before, however, as there's items stashed in places- wood piled but not yet split for fire, some sacks tied up in the hook of a tree's branches that may indicate food. Rolls of blankets in the cabin itself, tied taught to prevent wildlife invasion. The hawk's talons scratch loudly against the twig and leaf-strewn roofing, stern eye angled up for Anette, down to survey what's undisturbed. Anette, however, can carry and fly, which is why she's been sucked as the flying mule. Still, her own carrying capacity while still remaining airborne is limited which is why she's limited to a single backpack hanging in front of her, filled with only the absolute necessities. Yellow eyes remain focused on her hawk tour guide, keeping him within her sight at all times, though she does periodically glance around to admire the natural beauty around them. When the hawk lands on the roof, Anette doesn't land right away, circling the cabin and area a few times, carefully examining the immediate area. When she decides she's done, she slowly coasts to the ground, stepping into the snow just outside the cabin's door. Tucking her wings in, she swings her backpack off and drops it onto the ground, taking a deep breath as she looks about, her eyes lingering on the less-than-stellar cabin a bit warily. Although wings flap once, twice to clear the raptor over the lack-luster trim of the cabin, the bird more falls than flies, landing on all fours as something with fur, not feathers. Blacks and whites take the place of browns and tawny reds when paws hit the ground instead of talons. The border collie shakes from nose to tail, but otherwise doesn't miss a step in closing the distance between himself and Anette. Coming to her side, the canine doesn't pause. Rather, he rounds behind her, and by the time he'd come to her other shoulder and past her other wing, he's on two feet, with one hand drapped across her lower back, the other reaching for the bag she'd been burdened with on the way. "Not impressed, love? It's no five star hotel, but it beats the only tent I could've carried out here. Besides, that ain't what we're here to look at." He'd turn her, if she'd allow, to look in the opposite direction towards the lake and its reflection. "Or me. You could just look at me." Is added with a callous but humored tone, and a crooked shrug of shoulder. Anette ignores the bird, then dog, only smirking faintly once it becomes the human, though she still remains focused on the dilapidated cabin. "I suppose sleeping under the rubble when the roof caves in will be warm," Anette reluctantly agrees, breaking her gaze on the cabin only when her attention is redirected to the waters, her expression warming up as she takes in its sparkling surface, reflecting the trees and mountains around it almost perfectly. "I've looked at you enough lately. This is a nice change of pace," she says, taking in a deep breath, breathing in the pine-cented air and slowly exhaling out a white cloud as a smile slowly appears. "I forgot how quiet the world could be." Killian's grin broadens slightly at her response, his heavy brows furrowed briefly, a hint of mocked pain at her statement. He squeezes her waist and then releases her to step away. He kicks some debris away from the firepit. "Cold won't even be a thing." He dismisses easily, shrugging his leather jacket off to lay over a log- despite the chilly weather and piles of snow that still intermittently cover patches of ground. He hefts the axe that rests against the side of the cabin, balances one of the stacked logs on end to split and tosses it over into the 'pit. "You'll be runnin' hot all night." The shapeshifter's smirk is faded when he runs his fingers back through his black hair to look back at her with a lingering glance before focusing on the next log. "Less troubles out here." Is noted quietly in his agreement, then adds a bit louder, "What'd ya' bring?" Anette finally turns to watch Killian as he steps away. Cold doesn't seem to be an issue for her, despite being limited to a sweater (designed to accommodate her wings) and thicker than normal boots. Still, she can't help but grin at Killian's insinuation. "Oh, I don't doubt that. Pretty sure you'll have no trouble keeping me warm." The question of what she brought is met with a light shrug. "This-and-that. Haven't been camping in years so I wasn't sure what we'd need. Extra clothes, a few knifes, extra food. Deck of cards and a book or two for when it gets really dull." She makes her way over to the pile of logs and, stealing one of the studier ones, sets it on end and uses it as a stool. She then leans forward, grinning as she admires Killian holding the axe. "No, no, don't let me stop you. Just...continue what you were doing," she says, adding a playful wink to her grin. Killian glances at her with a raised brow, seemingly paying half attention as he splits the next and leans down to lift it to toss across to the pit. After a good couple moments, he remarks "You give me no credit. And if it were any warmer, I'd say you ain't gonna need clothes either." And despite her request for continuance, after a couple of minutes he has enough to at least start a fire, which a pack of matches is fished from a pocket for. The moist ground doesn't make it an easy process, knelt as he is by the pit, stuffing some firestarter between the slightly damp logs. Eventually, smoke rises, and he moves back to sit where his jacket had been dropped, next to Anette. "And what gives you the idea you need not one but two books out here?" Anette continues to watch Killian, her interest in his work at least partially genuine. "Now, where would the fun be if it were that easy?" Anette teases as he suggests no clothing. She remains seated as he moves to the pit and begins to work on the fire, smiling softly at some thought that occurs to her but remains unspoken. "Well, what else am I supposed to when you're in dog mode and...liking yourself or whatever it is you do when you're a dog?" she finally speaks as he questions the bringing of the books. "It would save me time." Killian replies to her tease in an almost-grumble, though only partially meaning it, in regards to her clothes. "Now you don't like me in 'dog mode'? And here I thought he was a favorite. He'll be so disappointed." His lopsided grin curls those words into something humored while he pokes at the smoldering logs with a longer stick, his blue eyes focused forwards as he does so. "I know something I'd rather have on me than a fur coat, but if you'd rather read, well-" He shifts to turn to her, reaching to pull her closer to him from her log-seat. "I could always use more paper for the fire." His deeper threatening voice is not-so-much so when used in this more playful light. "Never said I didn't like him. Only that my options are limited when you're in his form," Anette says with a soft chuckle. "If you think you can stay human the entire...hell, how long are we stranded out here?" As she's pulled from her seat, she gives a genuine laugh, falling into the snow beside Killian. Not that she seems to mind, leaning up against him as her yellow eyes stare into the slowly growing flames. "Hey now, I brought my favorite combat manuals. No destroying then," Anette warns, her offended tone second in strength to her amused one. Killian wraps his arms around Anette as she gives into being pulled from her seat, putting his head beside hers. "I've never tried." To stay human for a prolong period of time, he implies, though the dismissiveness to that makes it seem only partially true. "Stranded, eh?" He 'hmphs' a breath of a laugh as he places a kiss at the edge of her shirt collar at her neck. "Only if you want to be. Fuck if I have to be anywhere else." To the last, there's a more obvious chuckle, more felt than heard given their now-closer quarters, "Then I better not see them." "Well, we're here to avoid our 'easys', right? My self-destruction and your shifting?" Anette asks, referencing their earlier conversation. She turns her head, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek as he nears her and she smiles softly. "Stranded. Didn't say it was a bad thing. And yes, I'd prefer if you were human and right here the entire time." The comment about being somewhere else gets a quiet chuckle of her own, turning her head to look to the fire again. "Well, I have an appointment next week. But otherwise I've got nothing better to do and nowhere to be." The last sentence earns a smirk as she turns her head again to face Killian. "Keep me entertained and you won't see them." Killian exhales slowly, mildly strained and not well-hidden. "Sure." It's not so confident, but faded into another kiss on her shoulder, his eyes closed briefly. Distracted by unspoken thoughts, he's quiet for a few moments until she turns to look at him. "That's the plan." Earns a weaker grin, but a hand to drift from around her waist to her hair, drawing it back behind an ear. "So what first?" He asks, finally looking at her eyes, "A fire-cooked dinner, or warming the blankets?" This, not at all modest of course. "Hey now," Anette says softly, frowning at Killian's reaction. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need," is all she says, reaching to take his hand in her own and give a firm squeeze. The feeling of him moving his hand to her hair brings back her smile and she tilts her head slightly, leaning gently into his hand. "Don't think I'm ready for the blankets just yet. I kinda like this, just sitting here and talking. Though dinner /does/ sound good." "I know, love." Killian's fingers play gently with her hair, his gaze more strict than his touch, even glanced away again. "But I just don't know if I can. Shit is a little complicated." A flicker of a smug grin comes and goes. "But if I fail... it sure as hell won't be to escape anything here," Is said easier, smoother, slowly coming back to his regular dose of confident smolder, "We can sit here as long as you'd like, though I can't promise my patience will be as agreeing..." Her note on dinner gets him to shift his attention up to the tree above and the sack there, then back to her. "Prepackaged or fresh caught?" "We're in the middle of nowhere. What could possibly be complicated?" Anette asks, a touch of sarcasm though muted to suggest some concern hiding beneath. "Then I guess I'll just have to distract you from whatever it is you are escaping from." A playful smirk and she wraps her arms across her front to grip the bottom edge of the sweater and lift it up over her head - revealing the tanktop she has underneath. "Whatever's convenient. We did just spend the last few hours flying here," she says with a light shrug to the question of what to eat. Killian loosens his hold as she takes off her sweater, teasing the bottom of the tank top that remains with his fingers. "You do a damn good job without even trying." He comments as a reply and avoidance, following her intentional- or unintentional action. "Not hours.. But I guess you don't want me going on a hunting trip anytime soon." There's less humor in that than might've been intended, perhaps because shifting would be involved in such a thing. "Either way, I'd have to get up. And I'm not quite feeling in the mood to do that right this second." "And what is the hawk going to grab, a squirrel? Or do you have a bear in your little mental zoo?" Anette asks, leaning in a bit closer to Killian as the chill begins to sink in without her sweater. "No, I really don't want you getting up either," she says, her voice dropping in volume as she turns her head, pressing her lips to his neck, just below his jawline. Suddenly, she leans away, rising off the ground just enough to grab the backpack she had arrived with. Some quick digging in the main pocket and she pulls out of a box of granola bars. A talon makes quick work of the cardboard box, which she then sets on the ground between them. "There. Dinner," she says with a grin, taking a bar for herself and taking a large bite.