Even as the beast nudged the fallen body with its snout, it felt confusion. The crushing of its foe was a triumph, but it recognized that for the shell, its other self, it was an occasion of grief, an acknowledgment of all that had been lost, all that had been given up to pursue the dead man and his kind. The sadness, the understanding that the dead man's extermination could not fully balance the scales of the destruction he had caused, usurped the creature's base feelings of victory.

Raising its head, it let out a howl. A low sound of terrible mourning.

None were impeding it. The two that had joined it in battle were tending to the wounded bird.

It turned and dashed through the entrance to the building, its powerful muscles carrying it through the dark streets of the town with all of the speed it could muster.

It raced for the only shelter it knew. The open prairie.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:46, Thu 27 Aug 2015.

He looked at Coraline with pursed lips, observing her reaction to what happened. She certainly seemed to have held up well. Extraordinarily so. He followed her, doing as instructed.

"I suppose the Siberian will be quite upset. I can help the bird after a fashion, though I fear he will only curse me for it, utter some superstitious drivel about devilry and the like, and start sprinkling salt everywhere," he said, and then released a heavy sigh.

He brought his wand in the direction of the bird, and tapped it on the beak, pulling it quickly away as air and life seemed to find its way back into the bird and the little creature regained consciousness.

"You have interesting friends. I saw the Marshal turn into a werewolf," he said to Coraline.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:02, Thu 27 Aug 2015.

The sounds of gunfire in the distance had receded some minutes ago, and a group of men came down the street, Wyatt Earp at their head. Behind was a ragged looking company. Bat Masterson, John Collins, "Texas" Jack Vermillion, and Vernon Price. Absent was Charlie Bassett.

Looking at the burning building, he quickly issued orders to those among them, as they started fanning out looking for sand or water. Texas Jack, Bat Masterson, and John Collins returned from somewhere carrying a trough.

Vernon Price opened his backpack and started fiddling with a device he had on him. He placed a contraption, attached to a tube and a strange sort of nozzle, into the trough while the others were looking for buckets.

He flipped at switch on the device in the trough, which started a bizarre, almost wailing sort of a hum, and pointed the nozzle towards the flaming wall, water started to spray out of it. He started at the top, effectively dousing the flames that had gotten the furthest away from them with water and extinguishing that part of the fire, continuing to spray at it.

No reaction had followed when Cora had managed to reach a wingtip and pull the limp form towards her; heat and the fast thud of her heart were all that proved the raven was still alive when Cora gathered in her wings and stepped down from the barrel with her. Perhaps surprisingly for something about the size of a human infant, her weight was less than that of a bag of flour.

The burnt bird stirred in Cora's arms at being tapped, and blearily tried to bite the stick some crazy iron devil was waving in her face. "..nrrk..."

Sky Dog came jogging out of the burning - and now decidedly smokier - saloon down the street, having checked Daniel was not being overwhelmed as he came downstairs.

"Korpi!" he called, hauling his goggles onto his head to squint at the saloon roof. Getting no reply, he loped for the nearest group of people, his pale skin smoke-smudged and ghostly in the gloom. "Pri- Ah! Darling! Have you seen my sister?!"

The dark shape hurtling from the open door almost bowled Darling over and he stumbled a step or two to keep his balance. Glancing inside he could make out the huddled shape on the floor.

Then he saw Whateley help Cora down from an upturned barrel, cradling something dark against her chest. A hand grasped his arm.


Mutely, Randolph gestured toward Cora's burden.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:08, Fri 28 Aug 2015.

Daniel's efforts to eliminate the flames from the building were interrupted by some quite welcome additional efforts which included flying water. Of course between the water and Daniel's use of the sand he had found, the injured barber was soon coated in some combination of mud, soot, and water.

When Daniel emerged from the now-smoldering building, he looked quite the mess. Blood mixed with soot, water, and dirt would have made for a humorous sight if not for the gravity of the situation they had all so recently survived. The arrival of Wyatt Earp and his fellows brought a smile to Daniel's face - the cavalry had arrived and were welcome to take over. The lack of Charlie Basset quickly turned the mud-caked barber's face inquisitive. "It sure is good ta see ya'all. Where's Charlie?"

Sky Dog bolted over to Cora without another word. Though the low light made it hard for the shaman to see the damage, the reek of charred feathers spoke for itself. Sky Dog hissed through his teeth.

"What kind of burning did this? An exploding?" he asked Cora, pale with worry.

Korpi tried to turn herself over but failed, feebly extending a claw towards her brother. Sky Dog gave her a finger to hold, wincing at the wet feel of tissue fluid from blistered flesh when she gripped it.

Coraline cradled the bird in one arm, surprised at how light the creature felt.  Hollow bones, she thought.  Being exceptionally careful while Abaddon worked his hex, she watched the magic, admiring the flourish he added to her work.  Where had he learned?  Who had trained him?  What other hexes are up his sleeve?  Privately, she thought he might have a thing or two that he could teach her.

Glancing back to the bird as Korpi fluttered with a bit more life, she breathed a sign of relief.  "Yes, they are quite a diverse group.  Caleb... was something of a surprise.  I knew he had a familiarity with wolves, but to that extent?"  She shook her head.  "It was shocking.  How tortured he must be.  But, I suppose we are all in some way."

Her gaze flitted to Sky Dog when he arrived and she frowned.  "Fire, actually.  A fire she dropped on the evil man that he used to blow back in her face.  He nearly killed her.  She's lucky to be alive."  Her scowl deepened.  "You really need to have a serious conversation with your bird about flying into danger."

"Dropped?" Sky Dog tried to work this out. "Oil, alcohol, dropped? Not tar..." seeing as the iron devils would probably stand around and list every probability, Sky Dog crouched a bit to lick the edge of a damaged wingfeather for expediency. "Ech, some lamp oil, mostly the sorcery - Dalix! I will need your good sword here, if it has cooled," he called across to Daniel.

Hawthorne's criticisim did not draw his attention from assessing the bird's condition, though he did acknowledge it: "I had asked her to stay on the roof, away from the demon: she must have believed a friend was in danger." The pale eyes met Cora's, not quite asking if she would stay away, had her brother requested it. "Is Morgan injured? I heard he was wailing as I came here..."

"I believe the good Marshal has seen that he needed to take a break from all of this. We will see him when we see him. He seemed rather unhurt, I do say, though he may need a new change of clothes when all is said and done," he said.

"In truth, I don't know how much of this town Quantrill would have managed to set on fire, and how long it would've taken us to stop him if not for Marshal Morgan's...contribution to the endeavor. We were lucky to have had him along."

"Charlie'll be fine," he said with a smile. "He took a bullet, but Doc Mansfield is gettin' that sucker out of him. Gabby and Clementine stayed with for good company."

"I was gonna ask where y'all were at, but looks like you had some trouble of your own here, which I'm sure you'll tell us about in due course. From what I can tell, we fended off a buncha dead men in black uniforms. Strange thing, they weren't wearing any boots. Anyway, they came at us like crazed soldiers."

"Price lit 'em up with that fire spoutin' thing he's got."

"Yes, Mr. Price does well with his gizmos. An old friend of mine - I don't know if y'all have gotten the chance to meet," he said to Daniel, pointing at the man who was pumping water from the trough to extinguish the fire.

"He works from Hellstromme now, but back in the day Charles Chrisman hired us to transport supplies to the railhead out in Iowa. That's where I learned boxing and gambling," he said, throwing a few playful, fake jabs into the air that looked real enough.

"Sky Dog, I believe you will want to bring the barber. I believe he can tend to her ailments by calling upon the Divine Will," he said.

"Perhaps God will see to it in his wisdom to heal the injuries of a brave bird which was trying to do good."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:10, Fri 28 Aug 2015.

Daniel nodded at the responses from Wyatt Earp and his fellows, glad to hear Charlie would be well enough. "Nice ya showed up when ya did. I'll look in on Doc'n'Charlie in a minute, in case doc needs a hand. Glad ta hear ya got on well nuff, but I gotta see ta one of my friends."

He had heard the cry of Dalix, and moved swiftly toward Sky Dog after excusing himself from Wyatt posse's. As he focused on the gathered group, it appeared from a distance as if everyone was focusing on Cora's chest. He thought to himself that with the shortage of perfect breasts in the world it would be a shame if Cora's had been damaged.

As he approached, he noted that it was not Cora that had been hurt, but rather it was "Korpi!?" Daniel wiped away some of the grime and swiftly took the last few steps over to where the bird seemed to be conscious but burnt. "What happened?" Daniel furrowed his brow as he looked closely at the young woman in bird form, a frown shaping his mouth. His surgical skills probably wouldn't be terribly useful in this situation but the Lord could provide. He reached under his collar and pulled out a crucifix that hung at the end of a golden chain. He briefly waited to hear what had occurred before calling forth the power of God.

"Bring to where?" Sky Dog asked, beckoning that very man. "My thought was to go to the dentist's house, where there is boiled water with silver...so to mend Dalix and have good light to help my sister also..." he switched to Evenki to throw the charred corvid a question.

Korpi made a noise that though inarticulate conveyed she didn't have much of an option when it came to listening to criticism: "rngk."

"-after, I will see if any others are wounded or more dead ones come here, then go to find Morgan and give him pants and criticisim...it is said." He looked over at Cora, clearly already tired but preparing for a long night of work. To the arrival of Dalix, he replied: "I think she tried to pour oil on Quanterill but the demon ate it or cut into the world so that he could throw the fire on her; it would be well to set your good iron against her body to take away the marks of the demon's onnir across hers." He swallowed.

"Ah, Hawthorn, I do not think we will have time talk about the things tonight...but if you want I will make you breakfast."

Whateley stepped in before the Siberian could mangle the story with primitive superstitions and incomplete English. "The bird carried a lantern up to where Quantrill was perched atop the ceiling, using some kind of spider-like magic. Quantrill then used the flame in the lantern somehow to blow a huge gust of fire that encompassed the bird and all around it. This was before the Marshal decapitated Quantrill, of course."

"Fire. Encompassing the bird - damnation."

Daniel lifted the crucifix hanging by a chain off his neck and placed it against the worst of Korpi's burns. He hummed for a moment, and then raised his voice in prayer.

"And the Lord declared, No weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed, and you shall confute every tongue that rises against you in judgment. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord and their vindication from me. Be healed, Korpi! Like the bird of legend, rise and be radiant and renewed as the Phoenix!"

Daniel winced as the pain that Korpi felt was momentarily transferred to his body. His skin became cracked and charred as if he were being burnt alive, but just as it seemed to become more than he could bear, the charring disappeared. Wounds that he had already taken remained, but those that Korpi bore closed and healed as if they had never been.

Daniel looked at Korpi in her eyes. "You will still be sore for an hour. Best to ride on a shoulder or head for a bit rather than taking wing. But you'll be fine."

The barber replaced the chain and crucifix, sliding the latter under his shirt next to his heart.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:58, Fri 28 Aug 2015.

Randolph murmurs a fervent "Amen."

Sky Dog carefully took his hands from his temples with a shudder when Daniel had finished, pale and uncertain.

Korpi, for her part, was mostly curious about the shiny chain, very gently beak-catching and touching Dalix's fingertips with her dry bird tongue before he took them - and the shiny - away.

"Spath'ba," she said, and roll-flailed out of Cora's grip. Sky Dog caught her more by instinct than intent and held her lightly under one arm like a chicken until he'd pushed the bearskin back far enough to install her in his hood.

"She...we thank you," Sky Dog said, finally putting away his knife and looking at Daniel, head tilted. "It would be well to wash your wound, I think."

Daniel was pleased that Korpi appeared to be well, though wished she would take it easy. Patients rarely had patience, though. He smiled at her movements and the thanks, then looked down at the mess he was. "Prolly oughta take a bath, or jump in the trough if there ain't nuthin' better. Then we can get to the stichin' and compressin'." He rubbed his belly where he had taken a bullet from one of Quantrill's buddies. The metal would have to be removed as well. It would leave another scar that would make his father proud.

Daniel looked about to see if there might be anyplace to wash himself in a decent and/or modest way.

OOC: Barring that, Price could probably just hose him down...

Coraline wasn't certain what Daniel was going to do to 'heal' the bird, but she wasn't going to doubt the man.  She wrangled demons on a daily basis.  Why not a man with a divine connection?  She'd seen much stranger things.

Holding still, she glanced between the healer and the patient, blinking as she saw the transformation take place.  Astonishing!  She took special note of how Daniel seemed to absorb the creature's wounds before they disappeared completely.  Her arms opened as the bird wriggled free and she dusted off her hands.  Glancing down, she plucked a charred feather from her dress and twirled it in her fingers before letting it spiral down to the dirt.

"Well, now that was interesting."  She gave Daniel a very long look before turning her attention back to Sky Dog.  "You take care of that bird.  I'll go see about Caleb.  There will be no criticizing from you, tonight.  He saved all of us from that monster and has gone through quite enough already."

Sky Dog nodded Daniel at the nearby waterbutt. "That is a water-barrel, I think, but I was thinking that the dentist has boiled water for the patients there, which is better than raw water."

The shaman frowned deeply at Cora's plan to hunt the beast. Did she seek to shame him without balance, looking on him naked at his worst? "I had thought he was just a wolf pretending to be a man, but rabies...he has put all of us in danger, and the people." Sky Dog gestured at the town.

"It is good luck only that none of us shared the food, or the lady that hit him in the street was not very glad to see him, with kisses on the mouth; good luck that he has not been injured to bleeding that one has needed to touch his blood and without knowing get the rabies. It passes easily, the wolf disease." Sky Dog's words were rapid with emotion. "If one does not know, and has a fit, that one will eat their friend, their brother, their own children...that Morgan moves like he has the clear thought, it is years he has had the disease; he is at fault not to tell us. It is not a thing to keep hidden from those that travel with you, the wolf disease!"

'That bird' seemed quite content to stay in her brother's hood like an Inuit baby for now, though she watched the squabbling with interest. Aside from the vague sting across her flesh, she felt she could do with some parched corn right now.