Wolfram looked up sharply as the cold metal of the gun was yanked away from his head by a massive crow. He was suddenly dragged to his feet, held by his wrists by the Pure man. Thank you!
Silently, he thanked the crow that had saved his life, pulling agains the Pure's grip. He stared at the face where he thought the eyes may be when he was forced to the ground, too exhausted to even fight against it. Maybe I won't be so lucky after all. If I can just shift one more time...
"Wolfram!" River yelped, having fell behind him once he had collected the kid, due to her limp. She aimed her gun, and pulled the trigger, but her ears were met with a rather annoying sound-- A simple click. The cartridge was empty. Out of bullets. Great.
Another rush of adrenaline shot through her veins as she saw the teenager shoved to the ground by the Pure man, and she shot forward, her hand clenching into a fist. "Get away." She snarled, her fist colliding with the man's face, knocking him back and away from Wolfram.
She drew her leg back, slamming her foot into the side of the downed Pure's face. "I'm sick and tired of you idiots!"
Wolfram saw a flash of color, and before he knew it, he was free. He scrambled to his feet, just in time to see River aim a kick to the Pure's head. He scrambled for the fallen gun on the ground, grabbing it. He aimed, and without waiting a beat, he fired.
He looked over at River. "T-thanks," he said shakily, glancing up in search of the crow. "Thought I wasn't gonna make it out of there alive for a second."
Crow spiraled through the air. His ruined tail feathers were making flying difficult, but he couldn't shift yet, not until he landed. He twisted sideways and caught a draft, before dipping down and tucking in his wings a bit. He stumbled to the ground, shook himself, and was about to transform when his eyes caught a flash of movement. His head snapped around, and his beady birds' eyes stared straight at a rather disheveled faun.
Oh. Well, that's a relief. He shifted back into a human, then heard the crackle of a boot crushing a dry leaf. He spun around, and saw, concealed in some shrub, a masked face. And a gun. He froze for a second, momentarily panicking, as the realization hit him that he was defenseless. Then Crow remembered he was an inhuman.
Oh, right. As the Pure soldier pulled on the lever of their gun, Crow's body became smaller and smaller, sprouting feathers, his feet growing scales and arching into claws. He felt something hurl past his head and didn't need to look back to know it was the bullet that had been aimed at his face a second before. He threw himself into the air, flapping quickly to avoid being shot.
How many of these dang thugs are there?! He hovered for a second, trying to locate the other Pure. Three of them, it seemed like. He swerved to dodge another bullet.
I need.., he scanned the ground,
shelter! His eyes had locked upon a small stand of crispy-looking trees. He dropped downward, then cawed in surprise as he had to flap his wings sharply to dodge more shots. He realized, too late, that his new path led him directly into a tree branch. Crow managed to stop himself from hitting it face-first, but his wing whacked against it, hard. He heard a vicious
snap and fell into the tangle of bushes near the roots of the tree.
