Postmortem Ch7 || Watcher

Amethyst eyes peered over the edge of the second floor of the Morpheus facility’s foyer, watching as yet another stranger strode across the empty entrance and towards the door. It was mostly just that now - small groups or individuals who had stayed behind for one reason or another that were now interested enough about the islands and the land outside the lab that their curiosity got the better of them, and they set out to explore. Some of them were so thin and sickly-looking that she didn’t doubt that it wasn’t just curiosity that drove them forwards. Hunger, too. It would be interesting to see how many of them were strong enough to hunt, and how many islanders took pity on the newcomers and hunted for them.

She would not be among them, of course. Callahan had herself to worry about. And…

No, Petrichor would be fine. It was just a sprained ankle. What did it matter if the season was turning early this year, or that there were suddenly many more large and hungry stomachs to fill? There would still be plenty of prey to hunt  And fish to catch, if they really got desperate. She wasn’t above stealing from other utahs, or hunting down any one of the weaker dinosaurs that roamed the island or crawled up from the depths of this place.

Though, she had decided that she’d prefer to not tangle with an adult...dacen, she’d heard someone call them. The spike-backed herbivores with long tails that looked as though they’d prove to be devastating, deadly weapon. A smaller one might not be too much trouble, but any of the adults…

Well. She pulled back from the edge when she couldn’t hear the quiet clack of claws against tile anymore. She wouldn’t be hunting any larger prey while her hunting partner was out of commission. Maybe the pack of utahs to the north would be kind enough to share.

Smaller prey would do for now, though. Winter hadn’t set in yet. She picked up the rat that she’d caught earlier (there were surprisingly few rats here, likely owing to the massive population of massive carnivores crawling about the place) and retreated to the staircase that would take her back to the ground floor. Carefully back to the ground floor. It wouldn’t really be useful at all if they both ended up hurt.

She chuffed quietly around her mouthful to announce her arrival as she approached the side room that had become their temporary home, deftly hopping over the table that had been shoved in front of the door.

Petrichor raised her head from the pillow she’d been using as a cushion for her head. She was surrounded by soft things while she healed. Cushions, blankets, odd draperies that could have only once been clothes. Feathers, scraps of fur - she was clearly being well tended-to while she recovered. She was certain that her ankle was almost fully repaired. It hardly even looked swollen now, but Callahan was firm. They weren’t moving from this space until she could run again. In the meantime, Callahan would do all the hunting, get her water, keep her warm as the air became cooler. Her ankle was going to heal. Then they could leave this place.

The pale, featherless female regarded Callahan with that perpetually amused look that made Callahan’s feathers fluff. The curse-touched utah looked as grumpy as ever, her feathers ruffled.

“Another visitor?” Petrichor asked, her voice smooth and lilting.

Callahan offered her hunting partner the rat, which Petrichor studied for a moment before delicately snapping it up.

“Another traveller,” Callahan replied. She chewed on the feathers on her shoulder, preening them to the best of her ability despite the awkward angle.

Petrichor hummed softly, tilting her head and studying Callahan. “Do you want help with that?”

“You don’t even know how to preen,” Callahan retorted. “You don’t have feathers.”

Petrichor’s voice never lost its note of amusement. “I’ve seen you do it enough times, haven’t I? Come here.”

Callahan scowled for a moment longer, weighing her options, then got up and nestled down beside Petrichor and fluffed her feathers up. The pale female probably was getting cold anyway, it was better to sit together like this.

“Tell me about the traveller.”

Callahan continued to scowl, but sighed. “Another ‘alberto.’ I think. They and the acrocanthosaurus look so similar.” Horribly big beasts, large enough to rival theris, with teeth to match their size. But both had such small arms!

She twitched and hissed suddenly, flashing her teeth at Petrichor. “That pulled.”

Petrichor looked thoroughly unimpressed by the display. “Don’t fuss. You had something stuck in your down. Now you don’t. Keep talking.”

Callahan sniffed, glaring at Petrichor for a moment. It did feel nice to have someone else tending to her feathers. She’d let Petrichor continue for now, even though it didn’t seem as though the featherless female had any intention of stopping despite her hiss.

“A female, I think. Scarred all over. She must’ve been a fighter, there was a big one on her face near one of her…” What were they? Horns? They were too dull to be spikes. “On her face, near her eye. She had short, scruffy feathers that left her belly and half her tail bare. Mostly browns, and a splash of white across her back.”

“Light-touched?” Petrichor paused her preening just long enough to ask.

Callahan shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Too many dark spots mixed in. Too broken up over her tail.”

She brought one of her wings up to chew on a claw and tend to the feathers between her fingers. “She was on her way out, heading to the door. I don’t think she noticed me, or didn’t care if she did. There didn’t seem to be anyone else with her.”

With that many scars, she almost wondered if the alberto had been an outcast. Maybe she was just aggressive. Probably better that she hadn’t noticed Callahan peering down from the second floor, then.

“I bet they’d help if you asked,” Petrichor mused.

“With what? Taking you outside so that you can freeze while I go looking for food for you?” Callahan shot. “Or maybe since you can’t run, they’d realise they’re so hungry that they can just eat you and save themselves the trouble!”

“Ginseng was nice enough.” She elected to ignore the comment about her lack of feathers. She’d survived plenty well without feathers until this point, though it was true that if she couldn’t move, it would be harder to warm up.

Callahan snorted. She doubted that they’d ever run into Ginseng again. She’d probably left with the first wave of travellers, if she was smart. Gone and carved out a territory for herself before there was too much competition, while the islanders had been coming into the facility to see what new things lay behind what had once been an impenetrable door. They could be out there defending their “territory” [not that they had much of a territory, being wanderers] and warding off anyone that might be trying to steal their prey. They could, if Petrichor hadn’t been so keen on showing off.

She hissed quietly when Petrichor nosed her cheek, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Your eyes have a special fire to them when you’re thinking about me,” Petrichor teased.

“Yeah, when I’m being mad at you,” Callahan huffed in response. She tried to not let Petrichor fluff her feathers too much.

“Not too mad, I hope.” Petrichor nibbled at the feathers on Callahan’s cheek. The smaller female closed her eyes and relaxed.

“That remains to be seen,” Callahan replied. Petrichor was horrible, really. She didn’t know why she put up with her.

Callahan sighed as she settled down further, warm and comfortable beside Petrichor. She wasn’t truly mad, just...worried. If one of the giant carnivores decided that Petrichor would make an easy meal, or if one of the dacen caught her while she was out hunting, or their hiding spot was discovered by islanders with malicious intent...Petrichor wouldn’t be able to defend herself or run away from an attack. She wouldn’t be able to feed herself if something happened to Callahan while she was out, not until her ankle healed.

Callahan rested her head on Petrichor’s shoulders, while Petrichor tucked her muzzle into Callahan’s feathers. She didn’t want anything to happen to Petrichor.

So when she heard voices, many voices echoing in the cavernous foyer of the facility down the many hallways, Callahan’s eyes snapped open, her head jerking up.

“What is it?” Petrichor murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep.

Callahan didn’t reply, merely got to her feet and bounded over the table barricading the doorway. She slowed as she neared the foyer, quieting her footsteps. Her claws clacked very quietly against the tile, and she missed the soft ground outside. It was so hard to be quiet in here.

Not that these strangers were trying to be quiet, themselves. Perhaps she’d get lucky and they wouldn’t even notice her. It was night now, with darkness falling over the facility like a thick blanket. Her curse-touched feathers would help her hide as she slunk around the edge of the foyer to quietly, cautiously climb the stairs to the second level.

The sight that greeted her was...not what she’d been expecting, to say the least. One of the biggest acros that she’d seen yet came into the foyer, a pale beast with a bush of quills that densely carpeted her lower back and tail. Draped across her back ahead of her quills was a suchomimus, which was seemingly dwarfed by the acro’s tremendous size. His own back was bloody and torn, roughly tended to and coated in...things. An alberto accompanied them, but unfortunately not the female that Callahan was familiar with. A smaller, pale male with bright splashes of yellow across his face and tail.

And then there were more. Completing the trio of strange creatures which came from the facility, a green dacenturus with splashes of gold across his back accompanied them, looking only slightly wary of the company he kept but otherwise almost at ease with the giant carnivores. He was seemingly focused on the sucho more than anything. The last of the party was a dark cryo flecked with starlight. His gaze made the feathers on the back of her neck stand up. Something was wrong with him.

She caught fragments of the conversation as she watched, slinking along the walkway and hiding behind the glass railing to try to get closer and hear better. What were they doing? The alberto was seeming to help get the sucho from the acro’s back, and...the dacen was fussing over him like a hen with its chicks before moving on. It was one of the strangest things that Callahan had ever seen.

She flinched back when the cryo suddenly looked up. Was she seen?

His voice was horrible, as flat and lifeless as his eyes. “We’re not alone.”