 01:03:02 Myth/Crowley/Grinch| No Attallas is not online. |
01:02:15 Myth/Crowley/Grinch 01:02:05 Geek| Can I give him a lil nickname? |
01:01:58 Leaf -HEE Click-
I hope he rates well! |
01:01:49 Geek Leaf
Got him! He's good to go in my stables! |
01:00:44 Tosk's KNN| If you want to go for the appy |
01:00:29 Tosk's KNN| Morozoko and Stolas are quite flashy |
01:00:24 (AC) Angel 🐈| Is AttallasImpalaStable lurking somewhere here. |
01:00:22 Geek Leaf
Yeah, I responded to you. :) |
12:59:56 Tana, Kae 2.0| lol nice to see that my old Calea line is still floating around XD |
12:59:49 Leaf| Geek I asked you something in mail! |
12:59:04 Myth/Crowley/Grinch| Who is the most flashy stud on the ABLB? |
12:57:33 Geek No idea why I kept her. Oof.
-HEE Click- |
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Gale’s head spun as the voice cut through the fog, the word sharp, familiar—Kayla. He turned slowly, his vision still fuzzy, but there she was, kneeling beside him, her expression a mix of concern and relief. “Gale?” Her voice was quiet but urgent, pulling him from the remnants of sleep. He blinked, disoriented, and tried to lift himself further, but his body was sluggish, unwilling to respond fully. His breath hitched, a wave of dizziness sweeping over him, threatening to pull him back under. He gritted his teeth against the weakness, trying to focus, to speak. “I’m… fine.” The words were rough, barely more than a rasp, but they were all he could manage. His chest was tight, still aching from the wounds he hadn’t fully recovered from. The dull throb was a constant companion, a reminder of just how close he’d come to losing it all. But he wasn’t dead. Not yet. His gaze drifted to the trees around them, a deep unease settling in as the reality of their situation began to creep back. The forest felt too quiet, too still. The weight of their danger hung over him like a thick fog. He forced himself to sit up straighter, his hand pressing against the ground for support. His muscles screamed in protest, but he ignored them, pushing through the pain. Every part of him was raw, like the last remnants of a nightmare still clinging to his body. But the fear was real now—he couldn’t afford to stay still, not with the guards still out there, hunting them. “Don’t just… sit there,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “We need to keep moving.” Despite the pounding in his head, despite the weakness that was still crippling him, he knew they didn’t have time to waste. He couldn’t allow himself to fall back under. There was too much at stake. Too much to lose. |
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Kayla nodded, falling silent once more as she stood |
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Gale’s hands shook as he reached for his bow, the familiar weight of it grounding him, if only for a moment. He struggled to his feet, knees threatening to buckle beneath him, but he steadied himself against the ground. His muscles screamed in protest, but the instinct to keep moving was stronger than the ache. He grabbed the bow and slung it over his back, his fingers brushing the quiver at his side, checking the arrows. He had enough—barely—but that was better than nothing. His cloak lay crumpled beside him, still drenched in the remnants of his sweat and blood. With a grimace, he pulled it back over his shoulders, the fabric scratching against his raw skin. He tied it tighter around his neck, the hood falling low over his brow, hiding his face in shadow. It offered no real protection, but it was all he had. Gale’s breath came in shallow bursts, but he couldn’t afford to linger. Not now. He moved forward, slow and deliberate, feeling the forest press in around them. Each step was a battle, but the more distance they put between themselves and the guards, the safer they would be. “We go now,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. His gaze was fixed ahead, scanning the shadows between the trees. Every sound made his heart race, every flicker of movement in the woods a potential threat. But he didn’t look back. Not yet. One step after another, pushing through the pain. |
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Kayla nodded, eyeing him cautiously as he'd just been out cold |
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Gale’s boots sank softly into the forest floor with each step, the underbrush crunching beneath his weight. His body still protested every movement, but his mind was sharp, alert, keeping him focused on the immediate task ahead. They couldn’t stop. Not now. Kayla followed closely behind, though he could feel her eyes on him, tracking every strained movement, every wince he couldn’t fully hide. She wanted to speak, Gale could tell, but she kept silent. It was better that way. She wasn’t asking questions, wasn’t trying to make him stop. She understood, or at least, she was trying to. The woods felt unnaturally still as they moved deeper, the normal hum of night creatures gone, as if the entire forest had become aware of their presence. The sound of wind shifting through the trees seemed too loud, too obvious, and every rustle of leaves sent Gale’s hand instinctively toward the bow at his back. His breaths were shallow, more from the effort of pushing through the pain than the exertion itself. He kept his movements deliberate, his steps calculated, though his legs trembled, threatening to buckle under him at any moment. His chest tightened, each breath a reminder of the price he’d paid to keep going, to survive. And still, the fear gnawed at him—fear of being found, fear of Kayla being taken from him. The king’s men were close. They would be. They’d never stop looking for her. Gale’s jaw clenched as he pushed forward, forcing himself not to think of what might come next. The pain in his side had dulled into a constant throb, but his focus remained fixed on the path ahead. Each step was one closer to safety, to a place where they could rest—if only for a moment. His eyes darted ahead, scanning the shadows, but all he saw were trees, their twisted branches reaching out like skeletal hands. It would be a long night, and he had no illusions about how much more he could endure before his body finally gave in. But he had to keep moving. He couldn’t afford to stop. Not yet. |
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Kayla continued to follow him and watch him, but she still didn't speak. She wanted to just be safe and sit and talk to him |
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Gale crept into the underbrush, the bow drawn tightly in his grip, his every sense alert to the slightest movement around him. His body, though battered, had instinctively gone into survival mode, every step measured and silent as he stalked the dense forest floor. The adrenaline coursing through him pushed aside the pain, sharpening his focus on the sounds of the woods. The air was thick, tense—he could feel it, something about the stillness that didn’t sit right. Then, through the shadows, a flicker of movement caught his eye. His heart skipped. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the kind of grin that came only from a hunter who’d found his prey—or in this case, something far better. With a surge of energy, he lowered his bow, his face lighting up with a sudden, reckless excitement. He ripped the hood off his head, flinging it aside, his wild hair spilling out as he bolted forward, adrenaline propelling him faster. The camp—his camp—was just ahead. He was there. Finally, after everything, after all the blood and sweat and pain. His mind raced, his heartbeat thundering in his ears as he sprinted toward the clearing. And then, the familiar voices hit him. “Gale! You’re back!” “Gale!” “Still alive?” “GASP Gale!” The words broke through the air like a chorus of relief, each one a welcome shout from voices he hadn’t realized he was aching to hear. His grin grew wider, almost unrestrained as he skidded into the camp, his pulse racing with the sheer rush of being home, of making it this far. His friends—his comrades—were gathered around, eyes wide, faces filled with shock and joy. They hadn’t expected him. They hadn’t known if he’d survive. Gale’s grin was wide as his campmates swarmed him, pulling him into their familiar, boisterous greetings. The relief in their voices was enough to make him feel lighter, even with the weight of everything still pressing on his mind. They’d thought he was dead—hell, maybe he had been for a while. But now, here he was, standing in front of them, alive, somehow still standing despite everything. “Did you miss me?” Gale’s voice was teasing, light, as he playfully dodged a slap on the back from one of the men. “Yeah, we thought you were gone for good,” another one said with a grin. “Should’ve known better,” Gale muttered, shaking his head, the joy in his chest mixing with the growing excitement. His eyes scanned over the faces, still trying to absorb the overwhelming relief. But then he remembered. Kayla. He hadn’t introduced her. With a slight turn, Gale gestured toward her, his voice a little quieter, a little more serious than the cheer around him. “Everyone, this is Kayla,” he said, his eyes briefly meeting hers. “She’s… someone who’s been through a lot, and I owe her more than I can say.” His words hung in the air for a moment as everyone paused to take in the stranger standing among them. Some exchanged curious glances, others looked over with guarded interest. It was clear they’d all been through enough themselves to be cautious with new faces. But then, before the chatter could grow, another voice broke through the noise—a familiar, soft tone, one that made Gale’s chest tighten. “Gale?” Among the greetings, Lyssa’s voice stood out like a beacon, cutting through the sea of conversation. His heart skipped, and for a moment, everything else faded away. He turned, and his face softened, the hardness that had settled there from the past few days dissipating, replaced by something warmer, something almost relieved. He didn’t say anything as he darted toward her, his steps quick, eager. And then, without a second thought, he reached her and picked her up, spinning her around in a tight, joyful embrace. Her startled laugh was the sweetest sound to his ears. “Where have you been?” Lyssa asked, voice full of the familiar frustration that only came from someone who’d been left in the dark, someone who cared too much for their own good. “We thought you were gone—didn't even know if you were alive.” Her grip on him was tight, desperate almost, the kind of embrace only someone who’d been through hell would give after a long, painful absence. “I’m sorry, Lyssa,” Gale murmured, his voice quiet for only her to hear. He pulled her back down gently, holding her close for a moment longer. “But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” He didn’t say it with the weight of promises that had broken in the past—no, this time it felt different. He couldn’t afford to make any promises. But he was here. And that was more than enough for now. The moment between them was fleeting, yet it felt like the world had slowed, just long enough to remind him that amidst the chaos, there was something real. Something worth fighting for. The laughter of the others in the background began to blur back into focus, but Gale didn’t move. Not just yet. He needed this. Just for a moment. |
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Kayla was slightly startled as Gale grinned at this group of people she'd never seen. Strangers. She didn't meet anyone gaze, hoping to not be recognized without knowing them. When he introduced her, she forced a soft smile to her face in return to his words. I owe her more than I can say. It made her feel useful, more than just a pawn for the kingdoms to move in order for a checkmate. She watched curiously as Gale interacted with a woman, a flare of jealousy catching her by surprise. |
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Gale slowly pulled away from Lyssa, the weight of their reunion lingering in the air like a quiet promise. With a final, brief smile, he turned, his eyes scanning the camp as the voices around him grew louder, more animated. It was all so familiar, so warm, but there was something grounding in the chaos. It made him feel, for the first time in a long while, like he could breathe again. He let the chatter swallow him as he wandered back toward the center of the camp, where the rest of the group had gathered. His eyes landed on Kyro, his father, standing just a few paces away, speaking with one of the others. The sight of him—strong, steady—was a comfort, even if there was a new layer of tension between them. Gale approached him slowly, his expression softening as he got closer. Kyro noticed him almost immediately, and before Gale could say anything, his father stepped forward, his large hand extending in greeting. Gale took it, his grip firm but measured, trying to mask the fatigue he felt running through his veins. But then, to Gale’s surprise, Kyro pulled him into a tight hug. It was a rare gesture, one that Gale hadn’t expected, not with everything that had transpired. For a moment, he froze, his muscles tensing instinctively. But it didn’t last long. Slowly, he relaxed into it, the weight of his father’s embrace grounding him, offering a quiet reassurance. Kyro pulled back after a moment, his strong hands resting on Gale’s shoulders as he looked him over with a mixture of pride and something else—something unspoken. “You’ve made it through hell and back,” Kyro said, his voice low but thick with emotion. “But you’re here, and that’s all that matters. We’ll figure out the rest.” The words weren’t grand, but they were exactly what Gale needed to hear. The reassurance, the acknowledgment of everything he had endured. He gave his father a short nod, his throat tight but his expression softening. “I’m here,” Gale murmured, though it was more to himself than anyone else. “I’m still here.” Kyro didn’t say anything else, but the look in his eyes was enough to convey the weight of it. They didn’t need to speak in grand terms to understand each other. Gale turned away then, making his way back through the gathering, his eyes scanning for Kayla. The chaos had erupted again—the usual noise of laughter, voices talking over one another, weapons being checked, and fires crackling in the distance—but his focus stayed on her, even in the midst of it. He found her standing off to the side, watching the group with a hesitant curiosity. His heart tightened, but he didn’t hesitate. Walking over, he gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment, silently inviting her to join him in the whirlwind of people and life that surrounded them. Without a word, he stepped back into the fold of the group, the noise and energy of it all wrapping around him like a blanket. It was madness, but it was home. "One question!How many times did you all hit up a tavern without me?" Gale's voice rang out,laughter and shouting erupted. "Maybe only 16 times.Missed old beer chugger over here." A woman named Valerie snapped,Gale glaring at her yet laughing.He turned back to Kayla giving her a soft smile before sitting near the fire after tossing his weapons somewhere. "So,Gale.Are you going to tell us what it was like over there?" Gale took a slow breath, his mind briefly drifting back to the cold, unforgiving walls of the castle. The sounds of the camp blurred around him, but the vivid images still crept in, the memories refusing to let go. He clenched his fists at his sides, trying to regain control, but the words slipped out before he could stop them. “It was…” Gale started, his voice low, as though speaking the words would somehow release the tension he still carried. “The castle… it’s like a maze, dark halls, too many guards, too many eyes. It never felt safe, not even in the rooms where they let you rest.” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts, but they were tangled, too twisted to pull together. His body stiffened as flashes of the interrogation, the isolation, came back with too much clarity. “Every time you think you might get a moment of peace, something else happens. Someone else comes knocking at your door.” His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through. “It’s… never-ending.” The words felt foreign on his tongue, almost too much to share. But as he spoke, the weight in his chest seemed to lighten, just slightly, as if it was all being bled out into the air. But the moment faded too quickly, and Gale found his mind spiraling again, the image of the castle walls too suffocating to linger on. He shook his head, brushing the lingering thoughts aside. The night had grown deep, the shadows long, and he could feel the fatigue settling into his bones. “The moon’s already high,” he murmured, glancing upward at the pale glow filtering through the trees, marking the passage of time. It had risen well into the early hours of the morning. They’d been moving for too long, and it was time to stop pretending they were invincible. He let out a quiet sigh, feeling the exhaustion creeping in, the physical toll finally catching up to him. “We need to get some rest,” Gale said, quieter now, almost to himself. His legs were shaking, his body screaming for reprieve. He turned back toward the campfire, the warmth still faintly flickering in the distance, and motioned toward one of the empty tents. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow won’t wait.” With that, he moved toward it, but his thoughts lingered on the past. It wasn’t enough to forget, but for now, it was enough to be here. Safe. Alive. |
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Kayla stood and followed him, sighing with exhaustion. She was in an unfamiliar place with people she didn't know, but she trusted Gale enough to not look on alert |
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