"Two degrees east, two hours at full speed if the terrain doesn't shift," he answers without having to think about it, zooming his vision to check how deep the forest goes - if it's just an illusion that will stop the moment they're in it.
Lark doesn't answer. It's something to cement into his mind, easy as the instructions seem right now. When they've run under the trees a ways he unfastens his pack and hands it over.
"Doesn't matter," he replies, slowing ever so slightly to a more sustainable pace for him but not stopping altogether. He's unfastening his pack too, finally glancing over at Lark in preparation to toss it to him.
"The pieces move. They're easy once you've spotted them, harder to catch but eager to be found. What I'm less sure of is if we can even leave without all the passengers accounted for."
"Passengers have been left before." Right now the fewer bodies on board, the better. He knows that thought will change when he has his soul again, though, so he doesn't give it too much attention.
He straps the pack on and takes a second to smell the air around them, to listen for trouble. So far so good.
"Had anyone else found a piece when you were with the souls?" Lark should have asked around when he was there. Riley's distress had distracted him.
"Yes. No way I could find to know how many, or how many are left, just that we didn't have all of them when I was there before," he replies, not a little displeased with the incompleteness of this assessment. It's not his fault though. The Admiral, once again, refuses to make any kind of appreciable sense.
"All you have to do is take the pack back on board. The Barge'll do the rest. I'll distract them as long as I can but you've got to get as much distance as you can from me. They'll know I don't have it when they catch me again."
Alec has been waiting for this because yes, now he knows. He's quick to snake his arm back out of reach as soon as Lark reaches for it, stopping and rounding on him too.
"Stop that." His voice cracks with authority, the kind he can wield when he sees fit - and hates doing, when he is himself. "I'm faster, which is why I need to be bait. You're the one that can follow the scent either way, and we'll save time if I'm already looking for the next piece."
Logic, tactics, nothing else. "I'm not planning on staying here, alive or dead. End of story."
Authority makes Lark bristle, makes him step closer. "I take the piece to the Barge, and then I come right back out here. I'll distract them while you look."
He hates this plan. He'd be faster on his own, his mind argues and he knows that it's wrong, but still it insists that Alec will get hurt, will be in the way, will die and then what will Lark do? Be stuck out here with the harpies and the ghosts. He wants to be alone, but not here, not in hell.
"If it made sense to do this alone then I wouldn't care, but it's needlessly dangerous and it's a waste of time."
Alec knows that about Lark, of course; if Riley were here with him, he wouldn't be snapping orders to get his way. His confidence in his ability to assess a situation doesn't change no matter what the status of his soul, but how he goes about enforcing it does, and that's where emotion comes in. That's where charisma comes in, what little empathy he has.
None of it useful right now, though Alec's eyes narrow again even as he agrees. Yes, Lark comes back because it doesn't make sense to do this alone. They're proving it right now.
"Let's go." As long as it's understood that this isn't the only run they'll be making together. Lark starts running again, double checking direction as he does.
"And don't do that again. Orders just draw this out." If he had Naki, he'd still be annoyed, but it wouldn't be quite this bad. It wouldn't slam up against an instinct that he has little control over, on account of always being the wolf in charge. "You want me to do something just say why in as few words as possible."
"That was the fewest words possible," Alec replies, dismissive, because it's true. Just as Lark has the instinct to rebel against authority, Alec has the instinct to bring it to bear when he's the senior officer in a field mission in hostile territory. Lark, for all the respect Alec affords him for other reasons, is still a civilian by Manticore's measure.
It would be wiser to play on what he heard back with the harpies, what they both admitted to. He doesn't have it in him just now. "We don't have time for hurt feelings. I thought you of all possible people on this ship would understand that."
"My feelings aren't hurt," and Lark says it evenly, despite them running, despite how loud the animal part of him is right now. "I'm telling you I don't have a soul and I'm more wolf than I usually am. And even if I know it makes sense for you to be in charge right now, the wolf wants a reason to fight over it. I just want to bypass the instinctive bullshit and get this done."
Alec is silent for a moment, either listening or considering or analyzing or all three. He's usually an easy read, or at least whatever he means to advertise at the moment is easy to pick up on; he hasn't been ever since they woke up in the land of the dead.
But the truth of it is that no matter what Alec really thinks, no matter how rational Lark's explanation, there's still no time to argue: "Noted," he answers instead, and points ahead.
"I'll lead them that way -" Just a degree off the trajectory for the Barge. "- and cut away the first chance the environment gives me to sell being confused or rattled. You do what you see fit."
He nods, picks his own path. "Stay alive. I don't want to carry your corpse back." He will, but he doesn't want to.
Two hours, Alec said. Two hours there, then two hours back. A lot can happen in four hours; maybe another piece will be found. In the meantime he runs, harder than he probably should, because his muscles are just threatening to start aching when he reaches the Barge.
"Riley!" If she's here, that has to mean Alec is still alive. Right?
Riley is easy to pick out, even easier to find; whatever comfort she can find in knowing that at least this time Alec chose of his own free will to go back out is enough to keep her from the frantic pacing of before - most of the time anyway - but she's still vocalizing. She can't help it. It's instinctive.
So he might hear the distinct high-pitched chirp before he sees her, before he hears her speaking voice. "Lark!" She's kept Naki with her, anyway, and now she comes loping back across the distance to him and bares her teeth when she sees that he's alone. "What happened?"
Alec, she can tell him plainly, is still alive. It's all she can tell him.
"Harpies found him." Which is bad news but not as bad as it sounds. "He figured out how to make them let us go; we just had to tell them truths."
He leads her to the Barge, hoping he will be guided somehow as to what he needs to do. "So we did. We got loose, he gave me the piece, and I told him I'd come back to help him look for more."
Riley can smell what Lark has as soon as she's so inclined; it makes her hopeful in a way Alec would never admit to on his own, because obviously they found each other. Then Lark is talking about harpies and she's pacing him close enough that the side of her ribs brushes occasionally against the outside of his knee.
"Harpies," she repeats, whiskers pulling back. "Put course you did. Of course. Lark, it's foolish yo stay out there too long. We can't sell all our secrets for more time. Not lightly. You know that."
She's silent, then, drops back enough to butt her head against his leg and steer him up to the spot on deck where the group had brought back their piece of soul. What Alec has trapped in the pack has taken the form of a stack of books and they simultaneously weigh down the contents and provide a boost of energy for whoever's holding it; both of those fade almost immediately as the Barge absorbs itself back unto itself, just like the returning bodies do their own souls.
"You know I will," Riley says at last. Whatever else the harpies have drawn out of them both - and it drives her mad to know she doesn't know, she can't feel Alec at all from here or know what he knows - he has to know that much is true. Whatever else they're saying, the deepest part of Alec won't turn on the deepest part of Lark without very, very good reason. "Take more supplies with you. Is he hurt? Are you?"
"I'm not. I'm okay." Lark has sat down, somehow more exhausted by the loss of the Barge's weight than he thought he'd be. His feet are bleeding, though, which Naki helpfully points out with a sarcastic, Sure you are.
He should have kept his boots after he'd changed, back when he first abandoned the group, but he hadn't. Maybe that part of him had thought he'd just stay a wolf forever.
"He might have a cut, but it's just one that I can think of. I'll take antiseptic for him in case." He has some in his own pack but he isn't going to risk hell's version of gangrene by giving it away. Alec made this pack and he made it for Lark, so Lark is going to be the only one who uses it.
Lark gets to his feet with a small hiss, the only concession he gives to pain. "Where can I get supplies?"
She wants to tell Lark to stop, to stay, to not risk it again; she does want to, but she doesn't do it, can't make herself ask him not to do what he wants to do to bring Alec back to her. What she does instead is bump against Lark when he sits down, drops down across his legs and licks briefly at the cuts while he talks, her tongue rough but numbing, soothing after a moment - for her boy, anyway. The moment Lark tenses to move, she stands and moves out of the way.
"He won't admit to being injured but he won't turn away whatever he needs to do to fix it, either. Not like this," she warns, because it's true that Alec has more medical knowledge than almost anyone on board at this point and he'll use it, he'll maintain himself, but he's even less inclined now to admit to vulnerabilities that others don't know about. "This way."
It's the infirmary that Riley leads Lark to, although she waits for him to open the supply room for her; they don't need keys, because Alec doesn't have them normally, though he can and does ask Tiffany to open whatever he needs and it typically happens. There are boxes and boxes of gauze stacked near the floor in the back, and she pulls them out of the way with one paw, claws briefly at the back of the shelf until it moves. Lark will be able to smell the stash of nonperishable items from there, though they're wrapped in several layers of plastic bags, though the outer one is medical grade. It's not much, but it's more than nothing.
"Antiseptic is behind you. The blue bottle is the most concentrated." She knows what Alec knew before they landed.
Lark shares the same instinct Riley has, so even though her tongue is feline, it's welcome. If Alec only knew how many times Lark fought the urge to lick at a cut or a bruise....
When she's done, he smiles at her, and he might be exhausted but it's a genuinely warm expression. He tucks the bottle of antiseptic away, and secures Alec's extra stash, everything he can carry.
"If he's hurt, I'll know," Lark promises her. "And I'll make sure he takes care of it. Even if I have to pin him down and do it myself."
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"How far is it from the forest?" He asks this without looking at Alec.
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It isn't.
"Once we're under cover, switch me packs."
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"Where did you find it?"
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"The pieces move. They're easy once you've spotted them, harder to catch but eager to be found. What I'm less sure of is if we can even leave without all the passengers accounted for."
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He straps the pack on and takes a second to smell the air around them, to listen for trouble. So far so good.
"Had anyone else found a piece when you were with the souls?" Lark should have asked around when he was there. Riley's distress had distracted him.
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"All you have to do is take the pack back on board. The Barge'll do the rest. I'll distract them as long as I can but you've got to get as much distance as you can from me. They'll know I don't have it when they catch me again."
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Alec is faster. But Lark arguably has greater endurance, so it evens out, and now--now they both know why Lark would try to give the pack back.
"Passengers do get left behind, Alec." He says it like a warning but really it's all he can say to explain why this feels like a bad idea.
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"Stop that." His voice cracks with authority, the kind he can wield when he sees fit - and hates doing, when he is himself. "I'm faster, which is why I need to be bait. You're the one that can follow the scent either way, and we'll save time if I'm already looking for the next piece."
Logic, tactics, nothing else. "I'm not planning on staying here, alive or dead. End of story."
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He hates this plan. He'd be faster on his own, his mind argues and he knows that it's wrong, but still it insists that Alec will get hurt, will be in the way, will die and then what will Lark do? Be stuck out here with the harpies and the ghosts. He wants to be alone, but not here, not in hell.
"If it made sense to do this alone then I wouldn't care, but it's needlessly dangerous and it's a waste of time."
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Alec knows that about Lark, of course; if Riley were here with him, he wouldn't be snapping orders to get his way. His confidence in his ability to assess a situation doesn't change no matter what the status of his soul, but how he goes about enforcing it does, and that's where emotion comes in. That's where charisma comes in, what little empathy he has.
None of it useful right now, though Alec's eyes narrow again even as he agrees. Yes, Lark comes back because it doesn't make sense to do this alone. They're proving it right now.
"And the longer we argue, the worse our chances."
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"And don't do that again. Orders just draw this out." If he had Naki, he'd still be annoyed, but it wouldn't be quite this bad. It wouldn't slam up against an instinct that he has little control over, on account of always being the wolf in charge. "You want me to do something just say why in as few words as possible."
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It would be wiser to play on what he heard back with the harpies, what they both admitted to. He doesn't have it in him just now. "We don't have time for hurt feelings. I thought you of all possible people on this ship would understand that."
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But the truth of it is that no matter what Alec really thinks, no matter how rational Lark's explanation, there's still no time to argue: "Noted," he answers instead, and points ahead.
"I'll lead them that way -" Just a degree off the trajectory for the Barge. "- and cut away the first chance the environment gives me to sell being confused or rattled. You do what you see fit."
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Two hours, Alec said. Two hours there, then two hours back. A lot can happen in four hours; maybe another piece will be found. In the meantime he runs, harder than he probably should, because his muscles are just threatening to start aching when he reaches the Barge.
"Riley!" If she's here, that has to mean Alec is still alive. Right?
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So he might hear the distinct high-pitched chirp before he sees her, before he hears her speaking voice. "Lark!" She's kept Naki with her, anyway, and now she comes loping back across the distance to him and bares her teeth when she sees that he's alone. "What happened?"
Alec, she can tell him plainly, is still alive. It's all she can tell him.
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He leads her to the Barge, hoping he will be guided somehow as to what he needs to do. "So we did. We got loose, he gave me the piece, and I told him I'd come back to help him look for more."
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"Harpies," she repeats, whiskers pulling back. "Put course you did. Of course. Lark, it's foolish yo stay out there too long. We can't sell all our secrets for more time. Not lightly. You know that."
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"You know I will," Riley says at last. Whatever else the harpies have drawn out of them both - and it drives her mad to know she doesn't know, she can't feel Alec at all from here or know what he knows - he has to know that much is true. Whatever else they're saying, the deepest part of Alec won't turn on the deepest part of Lark without very, very good reason. "Take more supplies with you. Is he hurt? Are you?"
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He should have kept his boots after he'd changed, back when he first abandoned the group, but he hadn't. Maybe that part of him had thought he'd just stay a wolf forever.
"He might have a cut, but it's just one that I can think of. I'll take antiseptic for him in case." He has some in his own pack but he isn't going to risk hell's version of gangrene by giving it away. Alec made this pack and he made it for Lark, so Lark is going to be the only one who uses it.
Lark gets to his feet with a small hiss, the only concession he gives to pain. "Where can I get supplies?"
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"He won't admit to being injured but he won't turn away whatever he needs to do to fix it, either. Not like this," she warns, because it's true that Alec has more medical knowledge than almost anyone on board at this point and he'll use it, he'll maintain himself, but he's even less inclined now to admit to vulnerabilities that others don't know about. "This way."
It's the infirmary that Riley leads Lark to, although she waits for him to open the supply room for her; they don't need keys, because Alec doesn't have them normally, though he can and does ask Tiffany to open whatever he needs and it typically happens. There are boxes and boxes of gauze stacked near the floor in the back, and she pulls them out of the way with one paw, claws briefly at the back of the shelf until it moves. Lark will be able to smell the stash of nonperishable items from there, though they're wrapped in several layers of plastic bags, though the outer one is medical grade. It's not much, but it's more than nothing.
"Antiseptic is behind you. The blue bottle is the most concentrated." She knows what Alec knew before they landed.
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When she's done, he smiles at her, and he might be exhausted but it's a genuinely warm expression. He tucks the bottle of antiseptic away, and secures Alec's extra stash, everything he can carry.
"If he's hurt, I'll know," Lark promises her. "And I'll make sure he takes care of it. Even if I have to pin him down and do it myself."
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"Be careful. The point is all of us leaving."
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