"I'm not sure you're helping, either," Melanie starts to say - scold, really - her gaze sliding away from the gun only for a moment, to give Nikolaos an exasperated glare. Maybe trying to explain things to the captain was a lost cause and they would have been better off not bothering, but that doesn't mean taking big shapes and all but taunting him is a good idea.
In fact, it's a terrible idea, as Melanie quickly realizes when she looks back to the gun and sees he's pointing it with purpose, toward Niko, and his finger is on the trigger and she knows, she knows what comes next. Or half of what comes next, because what will happen if Nikolaos gets hurt in this dream? She'll lose him, either from him dying here or her waking up, and she doesn't want that, not so soon. And it's so stupid of her to throw herself sideways, as if her little body could shield his much larger one, but she does it anyway with a panicked yelp.
In the same moment, Nikolaos resumes owl shape, taking flight in alarm, but he doesn't get very far before there's a sharp, stabbing pain in Melanie's chest and an echoing cry from her bird-soul. She hits the leaves, and Niko crumples to the ground beside her, then heaves himself onto her chest, feathers in disarray. The pain eases immediately - she'd thought he'd been hit, or that she had, but he's not bleeding. "What," he pants, "what...?"
No time for questions; they have to get behind a tree or something, have to keep moving in case Mal shoots again, because if he hits Niko, or if he hits her…
He's already hit her.
It's just a graze, really; she notices it as she attempts to scramble to her feet with Niko bundled in her arms. The far greater pain she'd experienced a moment ago had masked the fainter twinge coming from her upper arm. But she's bleeding. She's bleeding, sluggish and red and grey.
"Oh no," she says, sitting back down hard on the forest floor and clamping her arm over the wound. Niko struggles out of her arms and resumes dog shape, nosing at her worriedly. "Oh no."
Snarling, Nikolaos rounds on Mal, standing over Melanie like a large, furry shield. "You fucking dipshit!" he snaps, furious enough to borrow from Sergeant Parks's vocabulary.
No no no. All the latent fear the dream possesses crashes down on her like a wave. She just wants to get out of here, before she contaminates anyone, before something terrible happens to Niko. She just wants to be safe…
Then she remembers a warm hand cupping her cheek, and a promise. Squeezing her eyes shut, Melanie thinks about Aziraphale as hard as she can. Will this even work in a dream? "Aziraphale!" she cries for good measure. "Help!"
stand by for one (1) angel
In fact, it's a terrible idea, as Melanie quickly realizes when she looks back to the gun and sees he's pointing it with purpose, toward Niko, and his finger is on the trigger and she knows, she knows what comes next. Or half of what comes next, because what will happen if Nikolaos gets hurt in this dream? She'll lose him, either from him dying here or her waking up, and she doesn't want that, not so soon. And it's so stupid of her to throw herself sideways, as if her little body could shield his much larger one, but she does it anyway with a panicked yelp.
In the same moment, Nikolaos resumes owl shape, taking flight in alarm, but he doesn't get very far before there's a sharp, stabbing pain in Melanie's chest and an echoing cry from her bird-soul. She hits the leaves, and Niko crumples to the ground beside her, then heaves himself onto her chest, feathers in disarray. The pain eases immediately - she'd thought he'd been hit, or that she had, but he's not bleeding. "What," he pants, "what...?"
No time for questions; they have to get behind a tree or something, have to keep moving in case Mal shoots again, because if he hits Niko, or if he hits her…
He's already hit her.
It's just a graze, really; she notices it as she attempts to scramble to her feet with Niko bundled in her arms. The far greater pain she'd experienced a moment ago had masked the fainter twinge coming from her upper arm. But she's bleeding. She's bleeding, sluggish and red and grey.
"Oh no," she says, sitting back down hard on the forest floor and clamping her arm over the wound. Niko struggles out of her arms and resumes dog shape, nosing at her worriedly. "Oh no."
Snarling, Nikolaos rounds on Mal, standing over Melanie like a large, furry shield. "You fucking dipshit!" he snaps, furious enough to borrow from Sergeant Parks's vocabulary.
No no no. All the latent fear the dream possesses crashes down on her like a wave. She just wants to get out of here, before she contaminates anyone, before something terrible happens to Niko. She just wants to be safe…
Then she remembers a warm hand cupping her cheek, and a promise. Squeezing her eyes shut, Melanie thinks about Aziraphale as hard as she can. Will this even work in a dream? "Aziraphale!" she cries for good measure. "Help!"