His talons ached as he stumbled across the sharp, rocky terrain.
"Now, remember- there's many ways to find a polar bear when you're tracking him. He can't fly, so there's bound to be some sort of trail-- whether it be footprints, or snagged fur on the shrubs, or the scent. We have the advantage of the sky, son. He may see our shadow, but there's very little places for him to hide from us in such a flat land."
Necrosis groaned softly, slowing to a stop and staring at his talons. He couldn't seem to catch his breath, and perhaps stopping for a moment would be good for his body.
"See that there, son? His paws knocked some rocks around. Over there's his footprint in the snow."
His stomach growled; it had been burning with hunger for what felt like days, even if he'd only been running for one. It seemed to clench up, and he felt nauseous-- maybe trying to get away on such an empty stomach was a bad idea. He couldn't stop for long, he knew that. He couldn't get sidetracked, either.
IF he were flying, we'd have little to no chance. The only thing you'd have is scent, and even then, the winds would carry the smell on such a strange path it wouldn't even be worth the attempt. Lucky we can and he can't, right?"
Gritting his teeth, Necrosis pushed on. The chains snagged on various bushes, and he ripped them from the ground with his steps, not bothering to simply untangle the little branches from the cold steel. The shackles didn't bother him as they rubbed his fur wrong; he'd bled far too many times from them in the past to even notice in that moment that they dug in uncomfortably, or that they were on the verge of making him bleed blue again.
"It can be harder to find him if he's on a mission. You have to be able to tell if the trail is old, or if the rocks were turned recently. It's always easier when the snow begins to melt-- the dirt gets wet, and is much more impressionable. If there's plenty of snow, we know that we'll be able to see his tracks. A heavy bastard will leave the most noticeable impressions."
The vague paranoia he'd settled into was driving him to keep going; he could've sworn that the wind wasn't just a breeze, but the faint sound of wingbeats, or the distant roar from a furious Icewing. Necrosis had to force himself to rationalize it, and know that he wasn't hearing what he thought he was.
He knew there wouldn't have been a better time-- in all honesty, there was never a good time. He had been fleeting opportunities. He'd barely noticed what had happened to the kind young guard; he could only hope that his claws hadn't dug too deep. Necrosis clenched his jaw, and a spasm wracked his body as he vomited acid into the shrubs. He coughed and cleared his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.
He had told himself he was done, but he knew there was nothing else he could've done to get out.
I belonged in that hole. I should've stayed to rot.
Necrosis squinted as he raised his head. The rocky slopes weren't far. Perhaps he could make it by nightfall if he kept on.
They won't follow me past the treeline. Once I'm over that mountain, I'll be in the clear. I'll finally be able to rest.
"Why aren't we going into the trees?"
"Well, son-- as much as I love hunting, and tracking with you, there's much easier pickings than a bear that's hiding in the pines. They're packed so tight together, and the branches are so prickly. I'm too old to go flying through there, and getting my wings beat up more than they already are," The male chuckled. "Besides, we're all the way out past the Cliff. The treeline can be riddled with dangers-- You never know who's watching between those swaying trunks."
"One of these days, when I'm bigger? I'm gonna go into those trees, and I'm gonna see just what it's all about," The younger boasted. "I don't think it'll be that bad."
He'd never thought that he'd travel beyond the treeline under such circumstances. Maybe it was for the best; who knows if he'd return in one piece if he'd have gone earlier. Maybe he wouldn't be in the situation he'd found himself in if he had.
His gaze flitted around, the faint moonlight filtering through the needles, giving him plenty of light to see the ground and where he was headed. He could only hope that the mountains were forgiving, and that the trees would provide him safety.
I can't give up. If I get past this... if I can just find a cave, or a holler..
The scent of pine was nearly overwhelming-- the sharpness, the way it assaulted his senses. It riled him out of his stupor, and he pushed on, into the pines and away from the unforgiving tundra.
"Necrosis, I need you to listen to me very carefully," The older Icewing rumbled, and settled down into the snow, tail curled around his front talons delicately. "You cannot get in over your head. Your mistakes will haunt you, and you will need to forgive yourself for what you have done. You won't be able to run from it forever, or it will catch up to you much sooner than you'd ever hope for."
