Shon
A brisk wind blew across the ridge, and Algernon Granville was grateful for the shelter the deerpath provided, clusters of trees and winding briars twisting together to effectively wall him off from the outside world. He'd stumbled upon the path quite by accident a mere hour ago, and after pulling out his compass and checking the bullets in his gun, descended into the darkness in search of a fresh catch. For all he'd heard about Briar Ridge's deer, he was yet to so much as catch a glimpse of one for himself, and he was determined to make that change today. A deer would net a healthy payment or two for the meat, and with any luck, make the citizens of this here holler a little more accepting of a newcomer. At least, that was what he hoped. Luck wasn't something that Algernon tended to rely on. Success was a case of skill, not something to leave to chance.

Still, he felt he was overdue a little luck.

Tightening his cloak around his shoulders, he continued on, deeper into the woods on what he hoped was a path to his redemption. He was beginning to think he'd made the wrong impression on the folk that lived here, blazing into the town as he had and makin' a bloody mess of the place with his boar and his boots. There was a strong chance they thought him an uncivilised brute, and he could see just how they'd made that assumption. More fool them, because Algernon Granville wasn't a man to be passed by. He was a force to be reckoned with and god damn them all, he'd make 'em see it for themselves.

More time passed, and he was damn glad he'd made an early start, because this place was a *Maze*, and if not for the compass he'd have lost all sense of direction long ago. Save for a few nibbled leaves and a dropping or two here and there, the chance of finding a hunt today appeared to be dwindling rapidly. Wherever the deer were, it wasn't here, but he pushed on, determined that the day wouldn't be wasted. If not a deer, he'd go home with a belt laden with rabbits or squirrels if it killed him.

He'd walked what felt like miles when he came upon the tracks. 

Unmistakably deer, two toes sunk deep into the mud and lingering snow, dew claw present at the rear. He counted them - one print, two. Then a little further on, three, four. They might have been some of the *Largest* Tracks he'd ever seen, stamped in by a heavy build, and he couldn't deny that excited him further. Maybe there'd be enough meat on the kill to get him to that speakeasy he'd heard about by nightfall. Failing that, at least he'd have a good meal for the first time since he'd landed in the holler. 

The hoofprints led him ever deeper into the undergrowth, and he shouldered the Winchester and followed. 

||
Rosie
Emery hadn't been hunting since the last full moon. Hell, they hadn't even properly *Slept* Since the last full moon. Years of nightmares had them growing almost numb to them, but the ones that plagued their mind in these past weeks had them startling awake from restless slumber. Current reality seeming nearly as bad as what their mind could conjure up; the most reoccurring of those being maws of chomping teeth turning to a bloody bath of arms and legs at the barrel of their gun. 

The events of the moon had Emery doing everything they could to keep from hunting. Digging out the last cuts of meat drying in tins of salt, brushing through hairs of unsold pelts and skins, even bartering for an already dead steer. They had stretched the shop thin and in turn themselves. Being around people, keeping up the illusion of happiness that they wore like a shield, was growing exhausting. The only places they ever felt that shield drop was in the safety of their apartment and under the cover of woods. However rare comfort from the latter was coming there was no denying it. The press of mountains, canopying trees like a blanket with their endless rows of trunks and most importantly, the sound of other life. 

The birds were always the first to come back, twittering away safe in their high perches. Deer usually took a day or two to venture back near the proverbial safety of the towns surrounding woods but it seemed they stayed away longer after each moon. Which is why Emery was dragging themselves through the winding deer paths, gun heavy on their shoulder as they trudged through unmarked snow. No matter how comforting they couldn't deny the strange call the woods had, a sickening siren song that pulled them out, unanswered questions piling up each time they gave in.

They stayed on the smaller paths, intricate cuts through bushes and brambles sometimes lending more luck their way, finding stragglers of a herd or even being able to cut one off. But as it were luck was not on their side (Or was it? They secretly hoped they'd return home empty handed) and they stayed walking for a while, morning shadows having long disappeared as the sun rose higher. Their mind had even begun to wander, at this point only managing to make themselves lazily look for signs of life. The tracks of hooves cutting through the clearing in front of them almost didn't register as deer, far apart and huge as they were but it had Emery slinging their gun off their shoulder, keeping silent as they heard footsteps. 

The footsteps kept along at a steady pace and Emery moved still as they could through the small clear in the bushes, tread light through the crunching snow. They weren't thinking right, if they were they would have noticed the distinct two soled gate of a human, not a deer. Certainly not one like the heavy hooves of what they could see through the clearing. As they came up to the main trails edge they readied their gun, taking a shallow breath before turning onto the trail proper, raising the old weapon to the face of whatever was walking towards them. 

Their finger tensed over the trigger as they locked eyes with a man and though it was only a second before they were swiftly lowering their gun to the ground it felt like it stretched out minutes. Their eyes were wide, expression filled with confusion and almost doubt as they opened their mouth for an apology that stuck in their throat. They couldn't help but to think how alike their nightmares it was, couldn't help but to wonder if they were even awake at all. 

||
Shon
The tracks continued, and so did Algernon, followin' them like a bloodhound that had caught a scent it wasn't about to let go of. Hours could have passed for all he know, but it sure didn't feel like that long before he heard a sound, the familiar crunching of the kind of snow that had melted just a little before freezing over afresh. Commonplace in Briar Ridge in winter, he was sure. And he was close to the deer that had left these tracks, he could feel it, in his blood and in the still air. 

So it came as somethin' of a shock when a pair of boots came into view. He looked up, eyes taking in the figure before him, until he found himself starin' down the barrel of a gun.

It was a situation he'd been in before, in a place thousands of miles and what felt like worlds away from this. It had been dark there, too, but the kind of dark that belonged to a night seemingly never-endin', soundtracked by the whistle of shells overhead and the cries of men as their blood spilled and soaked into the earth, soon to be followed by their bodies as their souls were taken from them too soon. 
Back there, the gun had belonged to a Fritz.
Now, the person at the other end wore no helmet, nor uniform, rather a grim look on their face that twisted into surprise and then almost panic, and mercifully, the end Algernon would've much rather not had to deal with was lowered to the ground. 
Much like before, he hadn't had the wherewithal to draw his own, but the moment was past.

"The hell was that for?" He barked out, hoping the words wouldn't betray the sudden dryness in his mouth. "You often go 'round pointin' your weapon at strangers, huh? Wouldn't be doin' that if I were you, bound to get yourself into trouble." His breath came in pants, heavy, puffs of white drifting and dissipating into the air that hung between him and the stranger, neither of them movin' so much as an inch. 

||
Rosie
It wasn't even until the stranger began speaking, tone harsh, punctuated by plumbs of white breath, that Emery realised with certainty they were awake. It came to them slowly as they glanced over the man, adrenaline from a would-be hunt instantly seeping out of them.

"I didn't mean to- Didn't think there'd be-" They stumble over their words, thoughts moving like molasses as they try to think of an appropriate response for almost shooting someone. "*Sorry.*" They blurted out.

"I- There ain't usually anybody on this trail, and I thought you was part of this..." They trailed off as they looked down to the tracks around them, the closest set now dishevelled from Emery's earlier footsteps, and only now noticed how strange they looked. They were wide apart, wider almost than the gate of the strangers that followed right beside and he was no small man. More worryingly was the depth of them, pressing into the mud through heavy layers of snow and ice, once again a contrast to the large mans' own prints. They turned slightly as their eyes followed the tracks, eerily long strides that continued off down the path and disappeared behind a bend. 

"...Herd..." They finished weakly, voice monotone as they tried to ignore the drop in their stomach. It wasn't a herd, that was for sure. Whatever this was, was alone. And that didn't make Emery any more confident in hunting it.

Their mind filled in the empty prints from indelible memories, sickeningly familiar limbs stretching and bulging into unexplainable bodies. Bodies that farmers would bring in through the back door murmuring "*Some kinda deer*". Bodies their Pa and them would cut up in silence, slicing and hacking until the figure was no longer identifiable as the strange and was simply just meat. Their breath came in short measured puffs and they blinked, hard, as if that would will away the image of what could be waiting at the end. Surly, just their mind playing tricks. They turned back to the man, swinging their gun over their shoulder, thumb rubbing hard at the old leather strap as they gave him a tight smile. 

"I'm sorry. Really, truly, I am." Surly anyone from town would know the bone deep exhaustion that came from the last few weeks. The knowledge of the unknown being so violently revealed it was dizzying. People seemed more wary as the days went on, cracks like roots forming within the small town. Emery couldn't help but to think where everyone had been that night, what they thought when they heard the news. They wondered briefly where this man had been when it occurred to them they didn't recognise him, and that not recognising someone wasn't something that happened in Briar Ridge. 

"Have we...? Sorry, have we met?" They knew they hadn't but it was a lot nicer than *Who are you?* Or *Why would you come here?* They jutted out their hand not holding tightly to the strap of their rifle in an offer to shake, "I'm Emery. Aiken." 

||
Shon
With guns for the time being forgotten, Algernon was able to puff out a hot breath into the still air between them, safe in the knowledge that he wasn't about to be shot on sight by the stranger stood before him. "Sorry's about right. Could've killed me," He huffed, crossin' his arms across his chest in a way that showed that he, too, had a weapon to hand if the time for one came knockin'. "Ain't never been mistaken for a deer before. And there ain't no herd here. Just the one set of tracks, so unless they were walkin' in a damn military formation, I was only trackin' the one." He rolled his eyes, evidently not quite at ease nor happy with the situation. There were only so many times you could stare down the barrel of a gun in a lifetime before your heart came to givin' out. Algernon wasn't sure just how many shocks he had left in him. But he did what he could to calm his racin' pulse, and to listen to what the other had to say. 

"We ain't never met. Hardly been in town a day and you're levellin' your weapon at me, wouldn't have done that if you knew me." He sucked on his teeth, making a sound of disapproval. "Name's Algernon Granville, you'll do well to remember it if I stick around. Hunter. Though if this is the kind of welcome I get when all I come to do was help out with your deer problem - damn pests that they are - then maybe I'll leave you to your own devices after all. Never known a place like this." Emery Aiken. Maybe he'd remember it, maybe it wouldn't need to be remembered. All depended on how the hunt turned out. "If you'll excuse me, think I got this one under control, unless you're plannin' on takin' the rear lookout." He wasn't used to companionship on a hunt, it was the kind of thing you did *Alone* Unless you really trusted the person beside you. "Looks like a big one, though. So if you do come, and you manage not to spook it, I'll cut you a good deal on the meat. Seems like nobody 'round here's in the business of buyin' from the new guy."

|| I'm sorry this is so short! I'm happy to bring in Hyde to NPC the deer whenever you are
Rosie
Emerys arm dropped back to their side, fingers flexing as the man crossed his arms, clearly not one for handshakes. At least, not from Emery. They couldn't blame him for his abrupt tone, they were bleary and reckless and nearly shot him, certainly not giving the best first impression. 

Another hunter in town was always good news, especially for them, but if Emery wasn't so intimidated they might have laughed at the reasoning for his arrival. *Deer*? This man had come to Briar Ridge for the *Deer* Problem? Granted, they were everywhere; snatching up evergreens and winter crops, and were surely the biggest pest to farmers come spring, but of all the problems this small town had Emery would not consider one of them to be deer. 

"Well, I can say we'll be glad to have you despite my welcome. Algernon?" They questioned, still unsure of his name, "All due respect, if you ain't been in these woods before I'm gonna stick with you. These paths here like to play tricks. Been here a while now and I'm just gettin' used to 'em." 

They nodded back down the trail, turning their back to Algernon. They never minded company, certainly hadn't been expecting it today, but even with someone by their side and the sun still high in the sky the last thing they wanted was to get caught here after dark. 

"Sorry for ruinin' your hunt, I'm sure you'd get on fine," Images of Algernon dead from exposure flashed in their mind as they started walking along the tracks, voice quiet in case the animal was near. A newcomer traversing the deer paths in this type of weather was practically a death sentence in itself. 

"Just wouldn't do good on my conscience to let you go alone." 

||
Teresa
Two pairs of eyes on these trails sure were better'n one. Algernon and Emery, if keeping their eyes to the ground like diligent trackers, would continue to see the prints of a large deer, though in some areas the prints were curiously smooth and rounded. Surely it was just how the snowmelt had disturbed the mud. Surely there weren't *Actually* Bare human footprints dappled in between the hoofprints. 

The rhythm of the prints was strange, too, as though the trail skipped a few steps every few yards. No matter. Maybe the deer was alternating its speed. Something spooked it to run, then slow. 

The two hunters rounded the trunk of a large tree just in time to see a flash of wiry grey-auburn legs disappear around a small crowd of boulders. The movement of the presumed deer left one long, drooping branch of a sapling to scratch against the rocks in its wake, steady like a metronome for a few moments. The hunters would not hear scratching. The sound appealed differently to each of them. 

To Algernon: the pound of a hammer on red hot steel.
To Emery: the soft blow of a cleaver into a butcher's block. 

*Clang. Clang. Clang.*
*Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.*

`Do they follow the deer?`
Shon
Their *Conscience*. Well, it weren't often you found someone out in the woods with one of those, and Algernon couldn't quite hold back the derisive snort that found its way past his lips at the comment. Morals only got you so far when it came to his line of work - they weren't the sort of thing it was worth a hunter gettin' caught up in. Think too hard about the things you were doin' and the guilt'd catch up to you in a second, a blink, a heartbeat. No, it was better not to think too deep about what your *Conscience* Told you when your business was killin' for your own gain. 

Death followed everywhere, somehow. 

He decided to say nothin' more on the matter, but didn't protest Emery's decision to accompany him on the hunt. An extra pair of hands wouldn't go amiss, really - while he was more than capable of handlin' a damn deer on his own, if this beast was as big as its tracks promised, two bodies would get it back to town faster than one. 

And so the two of them headed down the windin' path together, practiced hunters silent but for breathin' sounds, with guns at the ready should they come upon their target. They left no trace of their presence but side by side bootprints in their wake.

It was Algernon that begrudgingly broke that silence as they rounded the corner and the hind-end of the animal caught his trained eye. "You see that?" He asked, though no sooner had the words left his lips did they seem unnecessary, as Emery too had turned to look at the branch waverin' in the wind. "Stay close."

||
Rosie
Emery was no stranger to laughs like the one Algernon gave as they began walking. At one point in their life it bothered them, the judgement creeping under their skin and seeping into their bones like a burning itch. Making them want to run away and shrink in on themselves altogether. However the older they got the better they became at ignoring it, in one ear out the other.

They decided to instead focus on the tracks of whatever they were hunting - staying just as silent as they walked alongside him, glancing up and around for any other signs of the *Deer*. The further they walked they couldn't help but notice a strange shift in the tracks. The way in which the hoof prints changed, *Morphed*, into something all too closely resembling bare human prints had them almost asking Algernon if they were seeing things correctly. 

Before they could, a chill that had nothing to do with the cold ran through them at the distinct *Thunk* Of a butcher's block, a sound that had no place being in the middle of the woods. They looked up just in time to see the leg of something definitely not a deer disappear behind the rocks and even just from that small flash they knew their suspicions were confirmed. They never wished to be wrong more in their life. 

They gave a short nod in answer, eyes staying trained to the boulder it disappeared behind as they held their gun steady in front of them.

"That ain't no deer." They breathed, nodding at where it disappeared and keeping their voice low and steady as they could, "We should try and get up behind it." They didn't know the mannerisms of these animals but the last thing they wanted was to be face to face to find out. 

||
Teresa
As the two hunters continued on the trail around the tree and towards the crowd of boulders, the sound of crunching snow beneath the animal's hooves came to a stop. A hush fell over the forest, setting the stage with the quiet needed to make out a new noise that started up, then: a soft, hollow chattering, like a garland of dried bones being shaken. 

From behind the tallest boulder, which was over seven feet tall, Algernon and Emery would be able to see the highest points of a pair of antlers. Unless the deer had climbed up onto a shorter rock, it would seem to stand taller than any normal buck had any business of standin'. 

Should they choose to press on, seeing what they've seen, the hunters would round the outermost boulder and find their quarry. Their quarry, though, was not as they would have pictured it. 

It was a deer, but somehow not at all. 

The height its antlers gained above the rocks was due to its stance, up on hind hooves. Its front legs hung at its sides, its chest and belly oddly sunken inwards. Discordant lurching, shifting cracks projected from its shuffling ribs as its restless skeleton rearranged itself; the creature wore its own skin like a bad hand me down. Beyond uncanny, its face was a terror all its own: knife-edged, yellow teeth bared, and elongated eyes turned sideways. The not-deer's jaw vibrated almost imperceptibly, producing that infernal chattering: a warning that had failed to fend off the advancing humans. 

The thing swayed and loomed. Its slitted eyes narrowed and widened with no discernible pattern. A fine, brown froth began to bubble from under its gray tongue. 

Head tilted, it spoke, simultaneously in the voices of William Granville and Luther Aiken. 
"Turn back. You do not understand what you hunt. *Turn. Back.*"
_ _

`Run or attack, the choice is yours!`
Shon
Algernon took a half-step back as he was faced with the creature's sickening visage, almost collidin' with Emery in the process but managin' to catch himself.
It was like nothin' he'd ever seen before, with those damned eyes lookin' as though they were taken from the Devil himself, teeth that sure as hell didn't belong to no deer drippin' saliva as the jaw swung and it *Spoke*. Beasts weren't supposed to have voices. And their voices were decidedly not meant to be shared with a man whose furious yells still haunted some of Algernon's dreams. 
"What-" He began, under his breath, "The *Fuck* Is that."

He didn't expect Emery to have an answer. He was sure no human on earth would have an answer for him, for what stood before them was not of this earth, or at least like nothin' he'd ever seen before, and he'd lived enough lives that until precisely this moment he'd been pretty certain there was nothin' left out there that he hadn't seen. Nothin' left to be afraid of. 

But there was no denyin' that in this moment, this... Whatever it was had struck a fear like no other into his heart.
His gun was levelled and pointin' directly at the thing before he even took a minute to think about it. 

||
Rosie
The first time Emery had seen one of these creatures sprawled and dangling across a butcher's block they didn't rest until pure exhaustion pulled them under; didn't eat until their stomach ached. Yet however terrifying these beasts were dead didn't hold a candle to one of them *Alive*. If this could even be counted as among the living. A part of them felt a primal fear when facing this creature, it felt ancient and bigger than them or this forest as it's bones shifted and cracked and *Rearranged* Right in front of them. Its eyes seemed to peer past their body and into their very being. They felt their thoughts confirmed as when the *Deer* Spoke they heard the voice of their Pa, distorted and gargled with another, unrecognisable. 

The last time they heard his voice was all too similar to this. Deep in the woods, searching for something they almost didn't want to find. Once again his voice being used by one of these *Creatures* Like some sick sort of puppetry. The longer the thing spoke, the more a feeling nearly foreign to them began to grow and fester, overtaking their thoughts by the second; rage.

*"Turn. Back."* 

As soon as those words left its putrid maw, Emery shot. The bullet rang out, drowning Algernons unanswerable question and piercing deep into the creature's flesh. It happened so soon after it spoke that its voice, their Pa's voice, was cut off by a bone chilling cry; indiscernible if it was pain or anger. 

This may not have been the beast that took their Pa but they refused to once again tuck tail and run like the coward they were. To once again be subservient to the beasts of the woods. They stood their ground, lining up yet another shot before the beast lurched forwards and they were forced to take several steps back, just barely making it out of the way and keeping themselves upright.
Teresa
The forest screamed. The creature screamed. The sounds were one– indistinguishable and earsplitting. Emery's bullet had found a home in the skull of the deer that was not a deer, sending bits of its blackened brain and pithy fragments of antler scattering down into the snow. With its pain, and with its mortal injury, came all the rage of the trees and earth and atmosphere. With its pain, it drew its final breaths from the bodies of those who hunted it, compressing the lungs of the one so foolish as to have fired the first shot before roaring in its final rush of revenge past the likely-now-gasping Emery towards Algernon. 

By the time the creature was in hoof's reach of Algernon, it was well on its way to decaying. Maggots climbed from the hole in its head, glistening with blood, and saturated humus frothed from the open wound to compliment the red of fresh gore. Grubs and beetles awoke from their winter slumbers to borrow out across the snow, towards the future corpse. The forest was taking back its soldier, Algernon Granville, though, still held a loaded gun. 
_ _
Shon
Algernon, in his years, no, decades out in the wilderness, had seen all manner of dead and decayin' things. The natural passage of time was naught to be afraid of, and nor were the remains it left in its wake. 

At least, that was usually the way things went. But there was nothin' natural about the beast that loomed before the two hunters, not when it screamed the way it did as Emery's bullet tore a gapin' hole into its skull and yet, somehow, the damned thing kept on movin'.
Insects swarmed forth from what seemed like every orifice - its eyes, its drippin' mouth, the bullet's path of destruction that poured with bits of brain and cerebal fluid mixed into the blood - and if Algernon hadn't seen for himself the jaw stretch in some otherworldly way he woulda sworn the scream were human, rattlin' as it did with the breaths of one close to death and usin' its last moments to voice its pain. 

He wanted it *Silenced*.

There was no hesitation as he squeezed the trigger, though he'd admit he coulda held his footin' stronger against the kickback. The sole of his boot couldn't seem to get a grip in the slickened snow. 
But the slip would turn out to be a blessin', for as another hellish scream tore forth, past the chokin' and bubblin' in the beast's throat, it turned upon him and seemed to use what strength it had left to throw its full weight toward him.

Had he not lost his step he'd have found himself gored right through by those great pointed antlers, no doubt pinned against the closest tree trunk to suffer through a last breath of his own.

He'd never been so grateful to the icy ground.

||
Teresa
Algernon's blow brought an end to the thing that was not a deer. The bullet opened the creature's chest with a loud, wet *Crack,* And shards of bone clattered across the wall of the boulder behind it. The thing sunk down, its joints bending all wrong as it collapsed into a pile of itself, staining the snow as it rushed to meet the insects that celebrated it. 

Shortly following its collapse, the earth began to tremble weakly like the impact of a felled tree, sustained. Emery and Algernon would quickly realize that the massive, dirt-embedded rocks around them were waking up. The roundest of the boulders was pulled to its forward-facing surface, magnetized to the earth and by extension, to the corpse of the not-deer in its path. The rock was not discerning, though, and it just as soon would have claimed the hunters if they did not scramble away in time. 

To cover its fallen child, the forest pushed over the great stone onto the quickly decomposing thing that the humans had slain. As the boulder rounded down, the crunch of bone and liquid gush of bodily fluids projected from beneath it. In a skirt of melted snow, the ground bloomed red with the creature's blood. Once the rocks ceased in their movement and the earth was still again, all that was left to prove the hunters' story was the broken tip of the not-deer's antler: just the same as any other buck to the naked eye. 

With the ensuing stillness came birdsong, and the delicate rustling of squirrels against tree bark. All of the noises that had been choked out by the drama of the hunt now returned, urging the humans to forget what they had seen. Hadn't it just been a typical walk in the woods? Hadn't their quarry escaped them, and wouldn't they just need to return to the trees another day?
_ _

Narration ends here! Give me a ping if you have any lingering questions or desire for investigation. (:
Rosie
All the anger that had filled them just moments before dissipated instantly as the shot that blew through the beast was met with a scream of the forest and the breath from their very lungs. The blackened viscera and bugs feeding on decay within the walking corpse already had them letting out a shuddering breath before every last bit of air was stolen from them. It was as if a hand had reached into their chest, squeezing their lungs in a vice tight grip that left them gasping uselessly. 

Everything seemed to happen in quick succession, blurred together by fear and the oxygen leaving them completely; Algernon shooting, the forest *Moving* To cover its fallen kin and their awful attempt to back away as a vile splatter of gore and rot splashed across them. The air came back to them as it did the forest, the chorus of birdsong piercing in comparison to the deathly silence it followed and Emerys heaving breaths were met with a stench worse than death. 

Their head felt light and as they gasped the thick, putrid air they could feel their stomach churn, chest growing hot and throat stinging as bile threatened to rise. There was little evidence left from the hunt that couldn't be explained away but Emery continued to try and back away, out of the forest, out of their very skin. They took in stuttering gasps, needing to breathe but not wanting to, their legs had started shaking like a newborn foals and they didn't get far at all before their footing failed them. In a passing thought they realised they must have dropped their gun, as their hands attempted to reach out towards the fast approaching ground. 

||
Shon
If Algernon hadn't already been aware that that *Thing* Before him and Emery was somethin' not of this earth, then the forest's reaction to its death would have solidified that knowledge in him in a mere heartbeat.
Never before had he seen the earth move like that, nor felt it shake so beneath his feet. He'd have thought he were imaginin' it if not for turnin' to Emery and seein' the look on their face, hollow and horrified, at which point he knew this was for real, though he knew not how nor why it could be takin' place. 

The great rock that collapsed atop the beast's lifeless form moved faster'n anythin' of its size ever should have been able to. As it collided with the creature's body, the bones and rot appeared to put up no resistance to the weight, and with a sickening cacophony of crack and burst, it was as though nothin' had ever been there at all. Leavin' Algernon with no proof of what he'd seen 'cept the blood splatterin' the snow, and...

*Emery.*

It was their gasp that broke Algernon's gaze away from the scene of the carnage, his attention whippin' round just in time to see them drop their gun. He would have dived for it, fearin' it might go off again on impact, if not for their stumblin' sendin' them pitched right for the ground, leavin' him with no choice but to leave the weapon and catch them before they could truly fall. 
"Easy," He huffed, and he'd swear that that tone in his voice were frustration and not concern. Truth be told, he weren't so sure how to handle this, other than pull them back upright, spin them round to face him, and fix a look upon their face that would have shrivelled new-bloomed snowdrops. "Breathe. Yer alright, hear me? All that... It ain't nothin'. It's over. Don't you go swoonin' like a maiden on me now."

||