Difference between revisions of "Log:Missing Children"

13 June, 2018

As of Friday three young boys (Barthelemey, Jean-Baptiste, and Edgar) have gone missing in the lower foothills of the Salvation. While them, their family, and friends were out hiking a sudden storm hit, and during it all the children somehow got separated. Mortal authorities have had no luck as of yet.

Lower Foothils

The more mortal authorities have departed since the fall of night. Things have been difficult to track as of the last few days. The only things to be found are a few toys, and a fat lot of good that it's done for the dogs and volunteers. There's been nary a trace of the children that they've been able to find beyond the toys, and word is still out that help is needed. They haven't been gone a week, but have now been missing for five days.

Things aren't raining tonight, but it doesn't proove to be the most pleasant evening. This far away from the farmlands and roads the only light to come is that of brilliance from the witch's moon. The cacophonic chorus of nature sings in the night amid chirps from crickets, the hooting of owls, and the occasional barking from a canine somewhere out there.

Audrey had been following this all - through the chatter of social media, the anguished pleas of parents on the local news, and the overheard mutter of concerned-but-a-little-perversely-too-interested gossip of the patron at the bar. One child going missing is always a shock but three? Already the local grist mill is grinding out wild speculations and theories overtime. And that's annoying.

And this annoyance has driven Audrey out to the woods tonight to help. It's not at all because her own feelings of helplessness about Cross' disapperance are fueling this focus. She pulls in a breath, pulling up the zipper of the jacket she threw on at the list minute an inch higher and looks up to contemplate the moon a moment. "Well that ain't all foreboding or nothing," she mutters as she paces forward, listening to the symphonic chorus of the wood's animal night crew and toeing at the ground with her shoes as if that'll turn something up.

The path Audrey starts from looks to be one walked today. It leads on for what feels like an hour if not a bit more. This far out she can hear the howls of the wild more than the dogs back near the farms. Birds flit and move at the sight of her, although a single owl does watch her. It seems to be following her movements, the spotted thing keeping up with her every step of the way.

Audrey eyes shift up to the owl that's shadowing her. "Well aren't you a beauty," she offers in something like respectful admiration, her glancing smile friendly but not overly so. She keeps walking though - a few paces on, perhaps the feeling that perhaps the owl isn't the only thing watching might be nudging just a touch at whatever feelings of paranoia she might have about being alone in the woods. A few steps more and Audrey pauses, taking up a post at a tree just off the already walked path. Leaning back into the tree, her hand fishes her vaporizer out of her jacket pocket. The blue light switched on, her head lifts to triangulate just where this owl has gotten to. "I might need to take a break. Maybe don't do something weird to my hair while I'm doing the thing?" She grins wryly, speaking upwards into the canopy.

"Some might think so," comes from above. However, a look at the owl only gets a very loud, if not angry, hoot. As she moves through the wood things seem to shift and change. The shadows longer, and the darkness greater. The owl, for its part, just stays there - staring at her.

"Well shiiiit." It's more impressed than fearful but noteably a pause is taken in Audrey's voice. Her thumb clicks off the vaporizer for the moment, no need to waste a perfectly good battery. She pushes off the tree, coming back on to the path and tries to face the direction of the voice from above. Without really meaningful triangulation, she's just turning in a circle. Stupid mortals and their unimproved senses. "So. Uh. I don't mean you any harm-" She begins, gesturing slightly with the lighter in no particular way. "And let's face it, I probably couldn't do you much harm but I don't intend to make this weird, if you don't?"

The owl repositions itself on that branch, simply staring down at Audrey. It turns its head around while, staring at something behind it. It shifts again on that branch, preeing its feathers for a few moments. "It's always weird here," the voice comes again, this time from her right. "If anything you're weird, you weirdo." This time the words come from her side.

"Right?" Audrey's agreement stated with consensus about how /weird/ this town is in mind. "A month ago, I was in Missouri and now I own a bar. So, like, what the fuck?" The question is more rhetorical, but the edgy notes of concern for just what's going on evident in her effort to keep it casual. "But I don't think I'm /that/ weird. Sure, a little but-" Her hand bobs back and forth in a 'so-so' motion. "I guess I could try harder though." Her eyes shift up to the owl, gaze trying to track the direction the words come from but in her limited capacity... failing and that unease in the way her shoulders are beginning to hinge upwards is getting obvious. "So uh. Please don't hurt me?"

"That's what I mean, weirdo," the voice responds. The owl hoots again, as if responding to the affirmative. "You can't always look for what's in front of you. Some times its to the side." With every word the voice comes from somewhere else. Eventually, it seemingly settles behind her as freezing cold hair blows at the back of her neck. "Other times its right in front of your face." Again, the owl hoots.

"Bro." It's the International Order of Protest's Favorite Word. This stated a little too loudly, a little too quickly after the cold air hits her neck and she's jumping in a slight whirl around to keep up. Of course, she's not keeping up. "Damn, dude, so uncool." The owl gets this shade thrown its way, as she stares more intently now around the area.

Staring her right in her face is nothing beyond the light she shines and the darkness beyond. However, in the blink of an eye she can sit. Him? Her? The voice is fairly neutral, young, and difficult to distinguish. In that millisecond she can mamke out the shape of something human in the light, but the most memorable part of that bit of clarity are those yellow eyes and that fanged smile.

"Seven? Is that you?" Audrey leans forward, wincing just a little further into the night. "Where'd you leave your Dowtown Abbey fuckbucket accent at?" The extent of Audrey's experience of changelings with fangs laid bare, apparently. "C'mon, bro, if your here about those kids too - just get your ass out here?"

"Seven?" the voice returns. "Is that how you're gonna count, or just your favorite number?" A hoot comes again, and then a tap at her shoulder."And I rather like my accent," says the voice of a native. "Or is that the next one they're gonna take after they get you, hmm?"

Audrey jumps, the tap on her shoulder sending a chill down her spine and the girl shivers accordingly. "Nah, just someone I know...," she hedges, a little more uneasily now. Her eyes go up to the owl once more, her expression pleading for a moment. C'mon dude, why? Her hand jam uncomfortably into her jacket pockets, listening. "Oh well joke's on you, man. I've got a plan to bust someone out of there." Bravado met with slightly less assured bravado but an attempt all the same, her expression becoming less at ease with the situation by the minute.

"Someone you know?" it asks. "You got some TNT in there, or you know how to find an arch? You know why the arches matter?" A chuckle comes, and the owl matches it beat for beat. "The more we talk I think the easier it'll be for them to find us, but it won't be the same. Remember what I said about sideways?"

"Only the best person I've ever met." It probably doesn't intend to be lippy but... it might just be. It's convicted and convinced, the best person has been sent to Arcadia jail and that's clearly just not acceptable in her eyes. "What about arches? Sideways?" Audrey's not tracking and then she is, or at least trying to. "You said it's not in front of me but to the side..." Her feet take her a doe-see-doe sideways, as if its that simple.

Taking that extra step gets her nothing more than another laugh and a hoot from the owl. The owl eventually takes off to the northwest, and further away from civilization. "If you keep that up you might hit a tree, and I heard that it kinda hurts. But, you almost got it. Almost. Sideways when you see the arch, but don't tell anyone Hezekiah said anything. Or, I'll know."

Audrey frowns, the genius of oversimplification not simple at all. Still. "Who am I going to tell?" There's kind of a honesty to that question, her shoulders shrugging upwards. "I generally don't get all weird and start talking about shit like this in public. Also? That name is some straight Bible shit right there." She grins, apparently appreciative? "And uh, so there's two of you then?" Her feet reshuffle her back to the center of the trail, she pauses a minute and then apparently wanting of a seat, she just sort of sits down right there.

"The Bible's junk. Read Vicar of Wakefield. Trust me. It'll do you some good, and might even prepare you for your future." THe voice laughs, and with that comes a cold wind worse than those from the winter. Seconds pass, and those too turn to minutes as she now remains in silence save the usual sounds out here.

Audrey zipped up her jacket more, face burrowing slightly downwards against the cold that's picking up. Her mortal body notes the cold and does its best to keep her alive, biological responses being what they are. Her teeth find a chatter as she shifts and huddles into the sitting position she's in. "Jesus," she mutters, the second act star of said Bible now held responsible for cold this is. But she waits... waits for the voices to continue but when seconds pass to minutes in silence, she's frowning. "Well damn, I guess I gotta work for it then?"

She indeed does have to work for it. In the time it takes for her to begin the noises of the forest become dull, secondary. When she's finished she can see at least a glance of what's on the other side. Many of the spirits seen are those of nature. Trees, the earth itself, and several dozen animals. Most odd of all is that much farther north she sees soemthing of violence beginning to form.

"Hofuck," Audrey mutters, adjusting to the transition. She blinks into the environs, noting the assembled spirits. The urge to wave repressed down, it seems not the time to be mistaken as that weirdo the voice earlier was calling her. The urge not to get overlyfriendly with the sight of something violent just ahead. "Hofuck." She mutters this, more quietly a second time and picks herself up to stand. There's a hesitation about leaving herself behind, a concerned glance over her shoulder at what looks like Audrey slumped over on the trail. A silent reassurance that she can just run back to herself if its get pearshaped before she takes a few steps forward, trying to get a better view of the problem ahead.

It takes her a bit of time to cover that distance, but travelling in such a way does have teh advantage of not dealing with the impeding terrain. The spirits there are small, and already competing for whatever slight control they can muster. Motes. Tiny beings marking the beginning of a shift or addition of the places normal resonance.

What does Audrey know about motes? Uh, well, she can see them. So that's one thing. That they seem to have agendas, that's another? But her education into the spiritual flip side has been largely crowdfunded by crash landing into things. What kind of witch have these people been raising? So, it isn't without question that she's stopping to observe these tiny motes, her urge to touch one at least arrested even if her fingers do go out towards one before she pulls her hand away. "Well.. I'm gonna guess this ain't normal," she says, the mote spoken to with, with an air that expects not result back.

The motes are weak to be sure, and without any true form of rank or power. They are, however, beings made of strife and pain. They haven't gained much power, and betray whatever act that happened here in the skin world was sudden and hasty.

Audrey frowns deeper, the way the motes radiate this palpable understanding of what they are: bad things clear to her now. "Well, fuck." She states with a sort of finality, eyes marking the spot in the shadow where whatever happened... likely to the boys went on. It takes a moment, the lightbulb on a slight delay. "Oh /fuck/," she spits out practically, her conclusion forming up. "Those motherf-," she states in low, dense tones that are more anxious than angry. "Really? Kids? You gotta take kids?" She asks, loudly. The odiousness of the prospect of theory in her tone.

The motes all turn to Audrey when she shouts. They were ignoring her initially, but then she seems to be shrouded in equally strong emotions that would've caused the incident here. In turn, they try to take a bite out of her. They look jet black snakes floating and swiming on air, and when they try to make a snack of her they may as well bit tickling her arm.

"HeywhoafucknopeNOPE." Even if they don't hurt, its still not necessarily within the realm of acceptable or cool that the motes are now redirecting their attention. Her arm noodles around in the air, in panick like she's trying to get shake off a spider that dropped down from on high on to her. It's all doing wonderfully, most likely at giving them more to want for just like Audrey wants something, which is to leave. She's already backing up, trying to run. This is probably a terrible idea.

The spirits are far too weak to hold on, and thus they are shaken free easily. They attempt to give chase, but the only result is proving themselkves a decent meal. Something a fair bit larger, looking like a stag, takes them within its mouth and after a few seconds nothing else of them reminds. THe stag spirit, however, is staring down the departing Audrey. As she tries to run she can hear the sounds of beating hooves right behind her. The spirit gains on her with every second until she finds her way back to her body, and upon doing so felt the slightest brush against her back.

"What the shit." In terms of classy re-awakenings, this one is: not. Audrey had slumped over, half curled up in the middle of the trail in a position that no one would regard as delicate. She was like a tipped over flour sack in a jacket that's now stumbling to its feet. "What /the/ shit." She repeats to the space where that stag should have been, the ghost of feeling where it just made the slightest contact still there as her hand tries to find the spot. The limitations of human arms and how far they reach sends bending over and twisting into a less than classy configuration as her fingers grope for it. "Hey Hezekiah, you got a pet deer?" Her question, sent out into the night air and the forest surroudnings, rattled but expecting somehow little reply.

There's no answer from Hezekiah. Instead she's met by the sound of a canine howling off in the distance. However, there aren't any wolves around in the state. Coyotoes are another matter. While she can't see ir or Hezekiah she can't shake an even great feeling of something watching her as she stands alone in the darkness.

That overwhelming sense of urgency bares down her that can't be confused for anything but an immediate need to leave. And quickly. She turns, pace picking up. The urge to run challenged by the feeling of eyes on her that feel like she might give chase if her feet relax into the panick that wants to be fully experienced. She slumps down into the confines of her jacket, trying to become less of herself as she heads back the way she came.

As Audrey beats feet she can still feel that precence. Not just watching, but following the young woman along. When she reaches the spot where the motes were in the hisil she sees a bit of kicked up dirt still stuck as it is in the mud. In front of that she can make out the branches of two trees intertwining, and in turn creating a natural archway.

Sideways through the arch was it? You sort of don't forget disembodied voices leaving specific yet cryptic instructions lying around about how to proceed. And well, the archway is obvious. "Shit." Audrey breathes out, half amazement and half annoyance that she missed it before somewhow. She looks around, into the chilly dark and then huffs out a sigh. The better judgment of this moment would be to go home and come back in the daylight with others. But what if its not here when she comes back? Her expression twists in a sort of annoyance and anxiousness, the small voice in her head telling her to go home, go home you dumb bi-

Her whole body tenses as her eyes screw themselves shut, bracing for disaster. Audrey turns sideways, and stabs her hand right into the center mass of the air of the archway.

Her hand goes through the archway, seemingly disappearing from reality. If pulled back there appears to be nothing on it or wrong with it save that the air from the other side. Things weren't pretty in the real world, but where her hand went things were clammy and humid. Odder yet was the water that dropped onto her hand, and any inspection of it would reveal it to be normal enough if a bit oily.

Audrey's hand rotates- palm up, palm down- inspecting it in the minimal light of this side of the divide. A brief sniff to the water on her hand reveals that its only water. "No fuckin' way," she exhales, her tone astonished and more than a little anxious, before she wipes the moisture away from her hand using the denim covering a thigh. She sighs, closed mouth and equally anxious, her body sort of jerking slightly with the motion. To go in or not go in? Hamlet had hella problems but this wasn't one of them. The better sense of this moment would dictate that she should go find Avalon or Reggie or Seven or CB and drag them back here but that same worry scratches at the already anxious tempest inside about this not being here tomorrow, later, ever again.

And then. Well. What if this gets her closer to Cross? /Could/ she live with herself if this turned out to be the hell hedge that sucked him in and she just left him there? There are lot of things she might be able to live with and abandoning him isn't one of them. Neither is patently good decision making. "Fuck." She mutters, as if this already known to be a terrible idea and she nearly shoves herself in through the gap sideways.

On the other side things are pouring, as expected. The sky above is a sea of grey, and the moon can't even be seen. It soaking and pouring, and it's a damned good thing she brought a jacket. The sounds of nature here are louder and more profound. The howl she hears is louder. Cripser. It can't be ignored, and by the sound of it, it won't be ignored. The trees here are massive, twisting and tall enough to reach the clouds. Through it all she can see where the boys are. They're currently held in a cage, all of them either unconscious, alseep or dead as they lie there.

Oh no. Ohnono. Ohfuckohshitohno. That's about what's telegraphic through Audrey's expression as she stares around in bafflement in what she assumes is... probably the Hedge? She's heard the stories, sure. She's seen someone come out of one, sure. But she's never been in one - until now, if that is what this is. And it's... overwhelming. She cringes in the rain, the sounds an adjustment on tiny, slow mortal ears. The rain is already pasting her hair and non-jacketed clothes to her. And then, there's the kids... in the cage. And without a thought, Audrey starts running for them - the urge to rescue them running the show. A silent prayer in all this running through her head as she's on her approach, that those unmoving bodies inside that cage aren't what she thinks they are...

None of them are responsive as Audrey approaches. The tallest and oldest of them is in the corner, chin to chest as he snores. Another rests on his shoulder and the smallest at his feet. They don't stir nor move when she gets there. Then she can at least see that the smallest of them isn't moving. At all. There's no sign of breathing, nor even the slightest bit of a shudder or shiver from the rain.

"Hey." Audrey whispers, sharp and trying to be heard above the rain. "Hey, are you okay?" Her eyes shift lift away from the three of the boys, looking left and right before she presses more of her face into the bars. Her fingers are trying to work their way in between a slat or a notch, bidding to tug on a pant leg or sleeve or anything else that's in reach. The youngest one and his stillness arrests her activity, even for a moment before she seems to try to push past the considerations of what that lack of movement means.

The cage itself looks to be made of vine and thistle somehow made hardy enough that there won't be much give if pushed, pulled, or dropped. Pulling at them reveals a bit of blood on all of them, the most concentrated. The oldest eventually stirs awake, and without a moment's hesitation backs up just a bit in the cage. WIthout even waiting another second for an explanation or anything else he starts screaming bloody murder.

The cage itself looks to be made of vine and thistle somehow made hardy enough that there won't be much give if pushed, pulled, or dropped. Pulling at them reveals a bit of blood on all of them, the most concentrated. The oldest eventually stirs awake, and without a moment's hesitation backs up just a bit in the cage. WIthout even waiting another second for an explanation or anything else he starts screaming bloody murder.

Oh fuck. "Fuck wait no I'm-" She's trying her hardest to explain that she's not here to hurt him. Her hands a flurry of 'nonono' waving that can't quite commit to doing that or putting her finger to her lips to quiet him down so it does both in a herky-jerky effort. "It's okay. It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm trying to get you out. It's okay. It's okay." The kid is screaming and she's pleading, trying to be heard somewhere between the rain and his screaming. Her wide eyed anxiousness shifting her head left and right again, the kid's screaming making the cause for worry when it comes to drawing other things to this location now doubled.

As Audrey looks around she can see one of the sources of blood. A short man, maybe an inch or so shorter than her, lies amid the grass. He looks to be heavily armored in archaic iron plats. The cause of his death is obvious at a glance: a knife with an ivory handle sticks out from his throat. The smallest of them moves just a bit, but then it becomes obvious that it's due to the stirrings of the middle child as his foot moves under the smallest child. Eventually, the tallest stops screaming. "Please don't hurt us. We promise to be good, just don't take us away. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!"

Audrey's expression swims. Hurt who? Take what- Ohmygodthere'sadeadguy. The knife sticking out of throat clinches it and she shudders both bodily and audibly and forces herself to look the way of the oldest. "I'm not going to hurt you. Wait are you Barthelemey, Jean-Baptiste, or Edgar?" Her eyes scan the three in the cage, her uncertainty of just is which made possible by the rain, the chaos, and the unexpected stumbleupon them in the first place. Her hands sort of give the vined bars a squeeze, like she's testing the ripeness of fruit before she's looking over at the dead guy. And more specifically, the knife sticking out of the dead guy. The ghost of trauma past makes her stomach heave even if there's already a foreboding sense of what she's going to be doing with that knife in a minute.

"I'm- I'm Bart, and only my mom calls me Barthelemeny." Jean-Baptiste appear to be the middle one as he nods when his name is called. Unlike the eldest he keeps his trap shut. There's no response of Edgar, and the mention of his name causes Jean-Baptiste to start crying and sniffling. At her touch the viney cage elicts a sense of dread when touched, although whatever might have come does nothing to the woman. "Why do you know our names? Are you with the guy he said?" Barthelemy whispers fearfully.

"What guy?" Audrey whispers through the vines, her hands jerking away from the wave of dread that pulses through her from overly touching them. Her eyebrows quirk, head turning to the dead man. "-him? That guy?" She asks, before her hand shifts hair that's been pasted to her face out of her eyes. "I'm Audrey. And your parents went to the cops to ask for help to get your home. That's why I'm here." And that's all sort of true? In a very sort of high level way anyway, the exact way that all connects probably not needed where details are concerned.

Her eyes settle on Jean-Baptiste and his unraveling before they drift to what must be the state of Edgar. She works at trying to look unbothered but it mostly fails, maybe its the way her jaw is setting? "I'm gonna get that knife and then I'll try and get you out-" She informs them, the first step in this on the fly plan as she's already approaching the corpse.

Both Jean-Baptiste and Bart nod fervantly when asked about the guy. "Edgar didn't wanna go. WE! Don't wanna go." Jean-Bapiste remains quiet throughout. "Edge tried to fight the man and his friend. He- He-" Bart can't quite get it out, and simply makes weak stabbing motions at the air. "His friend threw Edgar in yesterday morning, and went back." With that Bart points the way Audrey came.

"Well I wouldn't wanna be here either," Audrey agrees, kneeling down and gripping the knife. She pulls up, trying to wrest it free from its current deep wedge into the outcome of the last and also very last fight he got into. "Do you know their names? Any chance its something Hezekiah?"

Both boys hastily shake their head in response. "He was tall." "Li-li-like really tall," Jean-Baptiste finally says when speaking. Bart adds, "Twice as big as you." Taking the blade from the man's neck proves to be an easy enough endeavor, and with it comes a bit of blood. An aura around the man sends a chill over Audrey, but it's from the aura of cold surrounding him more than nascent fear.

Audrey pauses, though she seems less than pleased at how easy it was to extract that knife from the dead man was. There's a tinge of green around her gills, a refusal to look at the dead man or the knife in her hand that only gets more pronounced when the cold slips around. She shivers, trying to push past the nausea that wants to cancel the contents of her stomach as she returns back to the cage. "He have like teeth? Like a dog or a wolf and big yellow eyes?" Her questions multi-tasked with an application of the knife to a smaller vine, attempting to carve through.

"No. He was tall. Um. Had a sun on his chest. Like made of his skin." The boy's likely talking of a brand of some kind. He doesn't go on with more as Audrey cuts at the cage. It takes a bit of doing, and only adds more time to the clock. If she's to try to cut through it enough to give the boys room to get out, especially Barthelemy, it'll take close to an hour of cutting.

Audrey pauses, listening to the details. She nods, its sort of clipped as she tries to saw away and nearly loses her grip on the handle. "Fuck-" she mutters, and then looks up at the two boys with a brief expression of apology. "Sorry." She offers, as if that's really a concern of anyone's right now. She pulls the knife away from the vine she'd been hacking at, unsatisifed with her progress before she dives back in and starts sawing away with a vigor that looks exhausting to watch.

Eventually, Audrey cuts away a large enough hole for the boys to crawl through. Jean-Baptiste is first. The little boys a bit on the chubby side, and it takes a bit of squeezing for him to get out. It takes less effort for Bart, but he doesn't get all the way out. He backs out, grabbing Edgar by the shoulders until the little boy is all the way out. The cause of his death appears to be several claw marks across his face, torso, and throat. If it weren't for these already strange circumstances it might have been easy enough to assume it to be the work of some wild dog or bear attack.

"Run. Run, turn sideways, I'm right behind you." Audrey's instructing them, in hurried and anxious tones. Her eyes glancing down at cause of Edgar's end and willing themselves to not get transfixed. That's for later, when its quiet and dark and there's plenty of time to fixate on that sight. She grabs on Edgar as well, helping Bart lift and carry the one who didn't make it as she tries to follow them out. Her gaze scattering glances, praying to gods that don't exist or all out of patience to listen that nothing's following them as they go.

When his body is out Bart leaves Edgar for Audrey to carry. He isn't too heavy, but his blood does get on her nonetheless. This oily rain doesn't do much to help matters either. The boys look up to her as she instructs them, and after a moment's hesitation they do as instructed. It doesn't take long, and within seconds they're gone from sight. When Audrey goes along with them she's met with the cool, dry night of the real world. Things are still relatively silent, although far up in the trees several hoots ring out in the night.

Audrey shifts, the exit from whatever that was into the still, dry, and noteably cool woods that is much less alien allowing a moment's notice to reorder the cruel dead weight of the Edgar in her arms. That pause is brief and spurred on by the hoots above the, she grimaces upwards into the dark at the noise. It's not a good grimace. "Okay, we gotta keep running. Stay together. We just gotta get out of the woods and then we'll be good." And she's herding them forward, trying to get them out.

Out of the woods sounds good. It's a goal that they can all manage. Calling cops is another. Explaining how she found them? That's gonna be a sonofabitch but she's from Hill Country, where no one says nothing but the barest, most tepid facts and is nothing but helpful in that 'I'm afraid I can't help you but if I hear anything... (I'll never tell you)' way.

It takes a good amount of time to return back to civilization, and even a bit longer for the cops to get there. The boys had been quiet throughout the whole way, sticking as close as they can to Audrey. The oldest looks to be a teenager, but he's still shaking. Mostly from the cold and being soaking wet, but his fear is obvious. Jean-Baptiste has resigned himself to complete silence, even when prodded by Bart he keeps quiet.

When they do arrive it's with a bunch of strange looks for Audrey, and within a few moments the cops arrive along with EMS. First they look to the kids, especially the one she's carrying. "Ma'am," asks one with his hand on his holstered pistol. "Mind handing him over to us?" asks one of the paramedics that approaches.

Audrey is more than happy to transfer Edgar on. It leaves her sodden, wearing some of the boy's blood, and shivering a little on her own. Her eyes travel over to Jean-Baptiste and Bart, her gaze concerned and a touch protective even if there's a plenty of law enforcement around. Maybe its the way they're shaking and maybe its the open display of fear on them.

Edgar though is transfered with remark, just a small nod and look of revulsed regret for the wounds on the boy that are clearer now that there's less chaos and panic to get out of there. The strange looks don't seem to make much of a dent in her overall level of chill, which is mostly sullen, tired, and unsettled. She seems prepared to hang around though, give a statement, wait to be released.

"Ma'am," the officer says again. "Can you tell us what happened?" As his question comes the boys are soon ushered off and to the side by the other paramedics. "We couldn't find a single trace of them, but you found them in-" He stops, gaze narrowing in. "Not really sure who you are, though." Not too surprising a reaction from such a small town. "How long have you been out here, and where did you find the boys?"

"I'm Audrey. Audrey Wilson." Audrey's arms cross, trying to tamp down the shivering from the cold as she answers the questions. She pauses, when asked, to spell that for the paperwork. "I've been following the story on the news. I got out here late because of work, tried to go out with a group but I just ended getting lost myself. I'm new to town, so I'm not exactly familiar with these woods. It didn't really occur to me that might be an issue."

She pauses now and again, so the cop taking the statement can get the details down. "I was walking around for a couple hours, felt like. I heard the little one crying. They were just... out there?" She shrugs helplessly. "The one with.. I don't know.. it looks like a dog or something got at him. I tried to get them to tell me details but they were both out of it and said something about man who-" She pauses, confusion in her expression. "-chased them or lured them? I couldn't track and I just... I thought we could get to that but I had to get them out and we just started walking. After a while we found a trail and headed in this direction, hoping it was toward the road. I guess we were just lucky."

As the cop is taking all this down another car rolls up. Five people file out of it: three woman and two men. Each of them rush towards the EMTs. Jean-Baptiste is immediately wrapped up by two women. One of the men and another of the women are around Bathelemey, yelling at him while the EMTs check him over. The last woman is pulled over by another of the cops. After a whispered exchange she breaks into tears, and falls to her knees. This causes the cop taking down everything Audrey says to pause and look over for just a moment, sigh, and then return to his writing. When he's done the top of his pad is slipped over. He reaches into his pocket, and comes out with a card with the local PD's info on it. "Please don't leave town, ma'am, as we may have more questions for you." Beat. "You're free to go for now."