Ah, now that the cats' attention is away, the hunter could play... He waited a few minutes more, letting sleep take them fully, before he once more began to move on all fours, the awkward length of his trollish forearms making it far easier then it would a human or elf. Following the paths of wind, rather then trail of path, he kept himself out of their scenting fields, and moved on fingertips and toes, as to make as little noise as possible... The shackles were wrapped in cloth, to keep them from banging eachother, though he did choose to remove a small tube from his belt, a blowdart gun. Along with two feathered darts, a vial, and bit of wool. He pulled his cloth with chitin sewn on scarf down, holding the pipe in his mouth while gripping the darts between what few fingers he had. Carefully, he poured some of the narcotic venom into the center of the cloth, putting the vial away before rubbing the first dart all over it's tip with the substance, then again with the second dart.<br/><br/>Finished, he crawled closer, reaching the nearest bush he would dare, somehow masking his large frame behind it... The troll first, as she was resting atop the elf. He loaded the pipe, took a deep breath, and placed it to his lips. Moments later, a soft, almost silent Fumping sound lanced out, utterly masked by the sould of falling rain. Striking true in his mark's flank. Another loading, another breath... A second Fump, followed by a dart imbedding itself into the panter's neck. The narcotic washing through both their systems swiftly, breaking the magic of their shapeshifting, while forcing them into a deeper, drug induced slumber...<br/><br/>Now was the time to act, as he did not trust the merchant who sold the poison as much as the man's reputation suggested. Leaping over the rocks and shrubs with powerful lengs, body moving with a feral loaping. The hunter skidded to a stop before the cave, and grabbed Mora by the left foreward and rear legs, pulling her out and began tieing her up. he favored using braided leather cord, rather then any simple cloth. He was quick, though not a master of the art, hogtieing each wrist to the opposite arm's elbow, knees together, then anckles. Finally tightening them all atogether behind her back, anckles to wrists. To supplament this, he unwrapped and snapped the metal shackes into place over her wrists, the runes clowing brightly a moment as they negated all her magical abilities, her power to weave spells. Mud now stained her belly and breasts, as he had worked out in the open, though he was kind enough to roll her onto her side before continueing on with teh elf.<br/><br/>Tellara was treated to more of hte same, arms and legs bound behind her back. The shackles clicking into place and flaring a moment with their enchantments. The inner lining of said shackles had been lined with soft suede, to prevent brusing or injury. But once he finished securing both, he gave a momentary grunt, heaving up to carry one under each strong arm. And into the forest they went... En route to a much deeper cave, one he had found, and was working out of... The walls completely covered in raggedy banners from Forsaken and Guleas alike, masking the crudely cut out walls of stone and dirt. Another along the ceiling, set to help funnel the smoke from a small campfire out.<br/><br/>Both druids had been washed, not well, but well enough, the familier scents of their own, and eachother's bodies gone, masked by a rough, bland stench of worked leathers and cooked meat. Both the elf and troll had been left, tied up a the back of the cave. The only light coming from the fire, which had a small cooking pot stewing over it, the smell of herbs and meat wafting out. The entrance was also covered by a banner, so in truth, it was impossible to tell which way was out, or if they were really against the back wall... Making it feel more like a tent with no doors, only the smell of bottomsoil telling them it was a cave at all...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>