Log:The Right to Bear Arms

The Right to Bear Arms
I'm just trying to find my way to this camp. It's not like you /own/ the woods, anyway.
Participants Sorrel, Morgan	4 August, 2015 Sorrel goes wandering to the woods to deliver surprises, and runs into an ursine defendant of the 2nd amendment.
Location Somewhere in the Appalachians, Pennsylvania
Western Pennsylvania has little to offer beyond coal mining towns and a few universities. It's pretty country, but it's boring. In the summer months, however, there is a lot of work to be had. For both Morgan and Sorrel. Morgan is in her second week of teaching a class of Appalachian Trail hopefuls and Sorrel has had himself a decent run of work on things that go beyond yardwork. Shed repair, fence repair, even a few things like treehouses and play sets for kids, or a nice deck for a young couple. There's a lot to be done in this particular town as most of the 'young, strapping male' sect is off working in the mines and similar industry. However, upon returning to the temporary lodging that he and Morgan currently share, there's been a note left. Not terribly uncommon. She and a co-instructor might leave such notes when one or the other return for supplies. Or if there's a drop-out, she may ask them to drop one off. That seems to be the case this time, as it's been left in her fairly careful, calligraphic scrawl: 'Joel's wife went into labor early and he had to leave. I'll have to finish out the week with the group solo. Can you pick up our supplies and bring them? Map below. Bit of a hike. Sorry! <3' The supplies are no big deal. She works them out in advance with a local shop. He'll just need to go in, let them know, and pick up the bag. No big deal. Hopefully she left a backpack around for him to stuff things into. Unfortunately, it's... a Morgan map. Which means it's terribly vague with markers that'd make sense to her. Sorrel had been out doing what was expecting for what amounts to a day off. He was picking a few flowers for no reason beyond the sun shining, and upon returning reads off the note as if it'll somehow become clearer. He even calls out the 'heart' aloud. He ferrets around in there things until he comes up with a backpack, although it's one left behind from a kid that was in a group: a Hello Kitty pink and white thing he's no qualms about putting on at present. The Elemental takes a bit of time to adjust the straps, and then heads back out the door with the map in hand. Once back in the sunlight he starts looking over the outline of direction, eyes narrowing when it starts to come out a bit too crazy to completely understand. After murmuring about not getting lost in the woods he heads out as assigned, occasionally taking a moment to snap a picture of the wilderness. Getting the supplies is the easiest part. The man at the store has seen Sorrel with Morgan before, so he just hands things over. Seems Joel had stopped by to pay up the 'tab' and apologize as well before rushing off to be with his wife. Really, Sorrel is probably doing the group of twenty-something yuppie kids a favor. Joel was the personable one of the two. Morgan was the expert. Joel was the one that filtered her aloofness into something manageable. It is, at least, a nice day. Mid-August, but far enough in the mountain range to not be upsettingly hot. Not at all humid. The tree canopy just thick enough to break any possible heat. Downright pleasant when you get down to it. ...if only the map made any sense. The trail starts off pretty clear, but when it comes to the first intersection, there's a couple notations. Now, she taught these to him once. Right. Or did she just hand him a book about it? With things not being completely terrible Sorrel's in a t-shirt and jeans, and as always sans shoes. For a few moments he looks over the map again, flexing his toes to enjoy the earth. After a happy little sigh he begins moving in earnest, gaze flitting to the map as he heads off to the left of where directied. When passing through the treeline he keeps his attention up more often than not, but still takes the occasional gander at the map to ensure he isn't going off course. At least he didn't dally too long before going back to their rooms or he'd be facing dark. As it is, he has plenty of daylight left. Left leads up a ways. It's a slow, but steady incline. One he won't feel at first, but he will over time. This trail isn't one taken as often, so the hard-packed earth turns steadily less even and firm. There's more sticks, rocks, and other ephemera underfoot as time passes. At times, the trail even becomes uncertain. A quarter mile or so later, there comes another split in the trail. This one goes three ways. One is clearly marked wrong on the map and of the other two, the one to the right is marked the same as the one followed previously. The third? No marking at all. After such a walk Sorrel takes a moment to gather his bearings despite knowing he only has so much time in the sun. He reaches into his backpack for a water bottle he brought along, and takes a few to look over the map. As he looks back up to decide which way to go he starts speaking to himself: partially in his nature as an Elemental and usually how he works through problems. "Well, M, wouldn't lead me wrong, but this is strange. One's not marked, another has the same as this trail, and another's wrong. Maybe she didn't think about it or doesn't really know what's out there." He stops, taking a second to look around him to ensure there's no sight of the Darkling's owl. "Note to self. Never repeat that again." After a sigh he goes about with a small game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe, and then settles on the center path. There is no tawny owl in sight, no, but then it's still rather early and Beag is a nocturnal creature. Morgan can force her will upon him, but she's never been keen to do so outside of an emergency. Perhaps if night falls... The center trail is a bit of a switch back and cuts down a steep ledge by a stream for a while. The footing is awkward, but the Elemental has little difficulty with it. This is what he does. It's damp in places -- perhaps annoyingly so -- but it's dirt, mud, and tree roots more than anything else. After a while, it tapers off and delves deeper into the trees. It becomes cooler, darker, and quiet. There's a rustling in the distance and a few deer run by. It's almost a distraction, but not quite. He spots it. A trail almost hidden by undergrowth and bushes. It almost wouldn't be noticeable if he'd not been paying attention, but it //is// on the map. It's just not a heavily used trail. Shit, it's a barely used one. But it's definitely marked as the one he needs to use. It's just, well, if it wasn't still daylight, it'd be creepy as fuck, overgrown as it is. The further into nature goes the more pieces of Sorrel's Mantle appear common place, and even lose the Elemental's attention as a way to find his way back. Forward he goes, attention set on that path for a time until thing becomes stranger than normal. The overgrowth doesn't bother the Poisonpetal, but it's shaping and bearing is enough to give him due pause. He double checks the map to make sure he's not gone off the path by much, and after a deep breath he lets out with a sigh he continues on despite the overbearing verdant nature of the trail. It's even more quiet here on this narrow trail and in some ways, Sorrel's Mantle is out of place. Certainly it fits, here in nature, but it brings more color than this slip of trail would otherwise see. The trees are close that the root networks threaten to strangle one another. The canopy above is so closely knit that little grows below beyond ferns and other things that thrive in the low-light. There's more rocky outcroppings than there had been before. Is this really where the map led? It seems so... maybe a shorcut? As he enters into the darker realms of the forest he becomes just a bit unsettled. He's crossed over from his domain into what Morgan calls home, and there's just a general feeling of him not wholly belonging here. However, he's as fearless as he is stupid, and takes a moment to rest here. However, with no Darkling to talk to he turns his attentions to the ferns and various other plants about. "Hiya, folks. It's know it's been a lovely, lovely day, and you all have been lucky enough not to deal too much with people. Well people unlike me, at least." He stops to chuckle at the thought of mortals going this far off track. "Anyways, I was wondering if you all have felt anyone or anybody coming around there here? Maybe even a kind of short lady that takes away more of the sunlight than the treetops do?" The plant life takes a while to stir. When it does, it's soporific. It'd like Sorrel to stay a while. Rest. Sleep with them. Isn't it quiet and cool here under the trees? Wouldn't it be nice to stay a while? Just nestle there in the roots. Let them hold him. Become a part of them. Absorb into the network and nourish the forest... Oh, a lady? They confer. It takes time. Some of the ferns ripple in a breeze that is seen more than felt as their fronds ruffle this way and that. Yes. A few days ago. A rise, that way. A few of the plants twist and turn and point the way. Any sane person would look upon Sorrel as a mad man at present. He kneels down to give the ferns a few brushes along with a happy smile they'll never really see. "Thank you," he beams in response. He stands back up then, gaze turned where he was pointed. "I'll not forget this, and will be back when I can to pay you back." He may not be required of him, but kinship is kinship. Then he's off again, following both map and directions to find his destination. But there are no sane men here. None insane, either, to witness Sorrel communing with the local plant life. The ferns remain to point the way until he has passed through the undergrowth, up a rise, and onto another trail. This one appears to be on the map as well, once he's regained his bearings. It's a more clearly appointed trail and there's more light coming through the canopy above. For the moment, at least. The sun is beginning to set and it'll be nearing dark fairly soon. There's a lull in the general sounds through the trees and perhaps that's what does it. Makes one look around. Sets something off down the spine. A look over the shoulder. A glance through the trees. Just off the trail, a black bear. Watching. Close. And it doesn't look entirely friendly, either. It's not moving... yet. Moments like these are where Sorrel really needs Morgan around because he clearly has no sense about him. Unlike the Darkling he's not much for beasts, and doesn't much understand nor care for the common mores of such relationships such as leave the big animals the fuck along. The bear, initally, gets a bright, warm wave from Sorrel as he slowly approaches. "Good evening, mister bear!" he shouts in greeting. "Don't mind me, I'm just moving on about my way." The bear lets out a roar in answer. No, no good evening here. Or perhaps it was prior to the Elemental's arrival. Either way, it answers in such a way as to try to dissuade Sorrel's presence. Rearing up onto its hind legs, it lets out such a noise as to set birds in the tree tops upon their way. A sound which echoes long and far. Who knows, perhaps someone -- or multiple someones -- in the distance will hear. The sonorous response from the bear throws Sorrel through a bit of a loop, and one that leaves him blinking for a beat. "Okay, what's your problem?" he asks with a shrug. He's intruding upon the bear's territory, but appears as calm as can be despite the imminent threat before him. "I'm just trying to find my way to this camp. It's not like you /own/ the woods, anyway." He may not own the woods, but the bear certainly thinks he owns //these// portion of the woods. He lowers from all fours and goes into a run towards Sorrel with another roar. When the bear bears down on Sorrel he starts tightening the straps to that backpack. It may be some cutesy thing, but God as his witness he'll go down to keep something safe if it's for Morgan. He then lowers into a combative stance, and as quickly as the bear reaches him he's quick to turn to the side and with a flourish jab the bear in it's already large side. The bear is not expecting this. Most humans run or 'play dead.' Few -- if any -- opt to attack in return. It roars in pain and immediately whirls around upon the Elemental, snapping its teeth out at whatever it can reach. A limb. Sorrel's side. Whatever and wherever it can find purchase. It is hurting, this much is clear. The bite is a thing is pain and suffering. It is now, clearly, fighting for life rather than territory. Now it's Sorrel's turn to roar in pain. However, it's more a scream of surprise that leaves him clutching at his side. There's no rage when he turns upon his ursine opponent. Oh no. There was nothing more than sheer joy at the prospect of a challenge this far out into no man's land. He's clouded in an aroma of roses that reveals his growing excitement. His breathing is slow as he launches his next punch, and with an almost happy sigh he slams his fist into the bear's flanks again. The next hit on the bear doesn't do it in, but it staggers it enough that when it roars, it's purely in pain. When it tries to bite Sorrel in return, it's more for show than anything else. It cannot get purchase at all on the Elemental. Perhaps on some of its attire, but that's it. It missed, and now it's going to Sorrel's stubborn head. He's hopping around now, feeling himself just a bit too much for how dangerous the situation really is. He's changed things up to adopts a boxer's stance, and regardless of the folly yells, "Ya like that?!" Even if the bear could answer the Elemental offers it no chance to do so, and goes for a straight shot at it's shoulder. Because this clearly was not a bad idea. The bear looks addled at this point, but it's not down. That last hit may have broken through some skin, however, because there may be some blood beginning to show. It may not be smart, but it's not as if Sorrel is doing expressly //poorly//. He's just, well, black bears are nasty things and this one is angry. It throws its weight towards the Elemental, biting down on whatever is exposed once again with a growl. Pain for pain. However, Sorrel's the only one that's openly bleeding. The worst of it all will be his torn up clothes, and this all too common occurence they should've been away from while away from most of civilization. At least for a all he can't complain at Morgan about how she tears up her clothing. At least he's kept that bag secure, and when it looks like the bear almost get it he puts up his arm instead. For his trouble he looses blood and a bit of skin, and should probably be thanking the Wyrd for his floral bearing. Instead, he doubles down on punching the bear, and just drills it with shot after shot. The hit that Sorrel lands upon the bear this time is hard enough that the beast is well and staggered. It simply cannot get one back in return. It falls back a few steps and is left shaking its head. Oh, it tries to get back, but it bites at mere air. It roars in anger and a few more things scatter through the underbrush. There is a call through the trees, however. One that Sorrel might recognize. Night is falling and that is the sound of a tawny owl. Perhaps... it might not be Beag, but there is every possibility the owl has been sent out to find him. An owl. Either Sorrel's in trouble because he's been made by the Darkling's companion or he's fucked up with his little detour. It's irrelevant to the Elemental, and despite all the pain he's smiling like a kid in a candy store. He dodges to the side when bear lunges at him again, and uses that opportunity to launch a torrent of punches at the creatures shoulder. It's a hard enough hit. It either breaks something in the bear or the bear had taken enough hits. With a final roar, it just staggers and goes down. Not dead, no. Not yet, at least. The beast rumbles and hits the ground with a resounding thud that sends up leaves and dust all around it. The forest goes still, leaving Sorrel in quiet and near darkness. Sorrel keeps his fists up even as the bear goes down. When it becomes obvious that there isn't a feint coming from the creature he lets out a disgruntled sigh. The fight's over, and as expected of him he lessens the wounds inflicted upon his opponent and them himself. He then heals away his own pain, altough it does nothing for the shreded clothing and now drying blood. With a sigh of resignation he starts trudging back on the path he was once on, but before doing so gives the bear a few gentle pats on the head. The bear does not wake, but it does seem to go from being just //knocked the fuck out// to just sleeping. Or at least seemingly so. It may be odd if someone else comes across it, but Sorrel is at least able to move on. A quarter mile or so later, he does come across Beag. It must be, for the tawny owl alights on a low branch and makes a chirring noise at the Elemental. Something chiding in nature. It hops a few times. Moving from one tree in a low swoop to the next. Apparently, the rest of the way is going to be by guidance. Perhaps not in trouble, per se, just late. But then, full dark will be soon and did Sorrel remember to bring anything for light? Thankfully, Sorrel still has his cellphone. Sadly, he used much of its battery life to snap pictures during the early parts of his journey. He uses what light he has from the phone, although it'll only last an hour if he's lucky and stars align. What he has is used for the continuation of his journey until the battery runs out, and then it's just the bird to guide him to Morgan and the others. Thankfully, it may not even take an hour provided his footing is sure. Beag doesn't lead him the entire way, but does for most of it. Eventually, they're off the trail and into the underbrush. Through some trees and... there's a campfire nearby and low conversation. One voice, Sorrel will recognize. There's others, but he can pick out one. Morgan, discussing various trap-making methods. She's a bit further from the fire than the others, showcasing a few different strings that can be used for box-traps; fingers deftly twisting each before passing it around. She, nor any of the others, have noticed the Elemental's approach and Beag has seen fit to go off on his evening hunt rather than alert her. It leaves Sorrel the option to announce himself, wait, or even opt to pick out Morgan's tent and wait for later. Or perhaps something else entirely... Sorrel eyes over the group in silence for a few moments. He's crouched low, attention lost on Morgan's every word. A few seconds pass until he remembers why he's out here, and begins skulking around the outskirts of the campsite. He's not much for moving silently, but the Elemental appears dead set on sneaking up on the Daarkling. Most of the people around the fire are busy looking at the knots or talking amongst themselves. None of them notice Sorrel's approach. Morgan, however, is their caretaker... as it were. She's also the highly trained and experienced one. There's also one person in the entire world that she is consistently and constantly aware of. Sorrel. Maybe the scent of roses is still strong around him from the fight. Or maybe it's the fresh blood. Either way, she catches that he's there at the very last second, turning to reach out and catch at his arm just before he can fully sneak up on her, pulling him towards the rock she's perched upon a the last moment. "//Sor//." His name is barely whispered in a bit of pleased surprise. He had her. At least he thought he had her before she grabs his arm. "Damn it," he grumbles under his breath. Sorrel's gaze shoots up to Beag because clearly the owl gave him up. Cleary. He concedes defeat with a snicker, and sits down at Morgan's side. "I got what you asked me to bring," and he pulls off the backpack to prove it so. It's handed up to Morgan, although it's covered in a bit of the Elemental's blood. "Thank you," Morgan offers, leaning over to place a kiss on Sorrel's cheek before anyone in her group truly pays them mind. She takes the bag, brushing a thumb over the blood. There's a frown as she lifts it, sucking at her thumb briefly to taste it. There's an accusatory look to the Elemental. She looks to the rest of the group and puts on a smile. It's entirely fake and likely immensely unsettling. "I'm turning in for the night. Sorrel has brought us the supplies for the rest of the trip, since Joel had to go be with his wife. I'll wake you all in the morning." At least no one seems to mind. Too much. Some do go off to their tents. Others seem to opt to remain around the fire. Morgan, however, holds the backpack in one hand and reaches the other out to Sorrel The look he gets from Morgan is returned with a warm smile full of innocence. When mention of his name comes he turns to the group to give them more of the same mirth along with a hasty wave. "Nothing to thank me for," Sorrel responds when taking that offered hand. "It was a decent enough excuse to take a few more pictures here, too." There's a few greetings from the others, but mostly they seem tired or just wanting to do their own thing. Maybe Morgan wore them out for trying to... well not so much socialize as put up with her. Which means she's likely burned out on it, too. Thus, Sorrel ends up pulled away by Morgan towards the tent she uses, flap pushed away so that she can tug him inside the enclosed space; tossing the backpack ahead of her. At least she doesn't... //immediately// demand he explain.