13353/The Great North Woods

The Great North Woods
Date of Scene:	13 November 2022
Location:	Great North Woods, New Hampshire
Synopsis:	When Nettie is alerted to a cryptid hanging around hunting camps in Old New Hampshire, she takes a few of the JLD to sniff out a wounded Wood Devil -- a slightly smaller variant of Bigfoot native to New England -- and the group consisting of Ariah Olivie, Gabby Kinney and Michael Hannigan (who is learning so much about 'trust' from Nettie) not only help the young creature out of a bear trap, but also heal its wounds!
Cast of Characters:	Nettie Crowe, Ariah Olivie, Michael Hannigan, Gabby Kinney

---

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    It began as an early morning text:
    "Good morning, Duckies! Who wants to go for a hike?"

    Innocent enough, but the short, gray-haired witch was rarely ever so forward with her trips out. Just a reply to dress warmly before she spirited everyone away from her shop in New York City to... the middle of the woods. Ancient white pines sigh in the cold wind, a dusting (of about an inch of powdery snow) lines the ground as the teleportation spell dumps its carried friends and fiends (and one old crow) in a small clearing.

    Nettie lands on her feet, giving a roll, with Corvax flitting out alongside her, silver strands of magic smoke clinging to her gray puff vest over a thick woll shirt in a different shade of gray, and below layers of gray skirts.

    She's also carrying a backpack, and has gray gloves with the fingers cut away. Corvax lands on her shoulder, holding tightly.

    "Whatever these Yankees did, couldn't it wait until *spring*, Nettie?!" he complains.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    The smol vampiress shows up, it's a wonder if she actually slept. Or sleeps. Or. Whatever. She is traveling light, though her body is wrapped up in a cute coat with one of those fluffy hoods that hides her face even more. Instead of a backpack, she's got a messenger bag slung across her shoulder and who knows what's inside of it. Gloved hands grip her staff. Otherwise, she's wrapped snug in jeans and has some hiking boots on. Her Sire does take good care of her, after all, and ensuring that the childe is well clothed is part of that.

    The deposit of transit makes her land heavily, coming down hard on one knee and using her staff to steady herself before she looks around slowly. "I am to understand that this is not a simple hike, oui?" she hazards a guess, mismatched eyes surveying their LZ and her free hand reaching out to the air as if trying to sense any ambient magic or strangeness in the air. She also shivers, despite her jacket. "...I do not operate the best in the cold..." she says with a frown. Good thing she's got... whatever she's got in her bag.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike can be a bit of a busy guy. With the balancing of the career with the occasional outings with Titans, to invitations for long walks on the beach resulting in doing battle with giant spiders. The general shift to leadership for another group he's involved with kind of got forgotten. That is until he got a text message from Nettie. Oh right. That.

Either way, it turned out he wasn't actually booked for the day and so long as he was back in time for his coaching sessions tomorrow, he was willing to go. As instructed, He was dressed warmly head to toe with just the face peeking out the hood being the only form of exposed skin. For those who went spider fighting, it may seem rather familiar in appearance. With him using someone else's mode of travel and not being phantasmed during the transition. His entrance is not as graceful. As the Portal didn't just nicely place them on the ground. He ends up tumbling as he is caught off guard.

The snow is reasonably soft at least, which is good as he leaves a facial imprint to a small bank of it. The body lays there still. Seconds tick away before he rolls onto his back. "...I really need to ask you guys 'WHY' before I accept random invites to outings." Mike mutters.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "You really ought to question any supernaturally inclined being to their reasons for requesting company. It's largely safer that way."Nettie responds to Mike, but she gives a small smile. "Not that many of us give straight answers, mind, we're dodgy like that." she states, cracking her knuckles a moment as she looks up.

    "So. We're in the Great North Woods. North of Milan, New Hampshire. Odd ducks, New Hampshire folk. Took a lot of pride in being called Copperheads. In this case, though there have been reports of Wood Devils lurking about some of the hunting cabins up here. Friend of mine managed to grab a picture. At least it's not harlequins again. Or Silver Lake. What a mess *that* was in the seventies..." Nettie explains, and she looks over to Ariah.

    "I'll make a note of that, poppet. For now, we just do the best we can."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "It is the nature of our group, non?" Ariah turns her head, fixing her strange eyes on Mike for a few moments before returning her attention to Nettie. She simply nods slowly. "I will endeavor to curtail the use of my energy so I do not have an incident. I am also carrying items for replenishment should I need them. A hike is a hike, and one must be prepared for handling their needs." She gives her bag a little pat with that free hand, but purses her lips.

    "Please, explain to me, what is a Wood Devil?" she asks, earnest and curious. "Are we to be fighting them or driving them away? Or are we akin to bird watchers, observing an anomalous species that is rare and interesting?" There's no sarcasm in her voice. No emotion at all, really, but it sounds like she's being genuine. For all she knows, a Wood Devil could be some cryptid that inspires awe and fascination in people. And/or terror.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
The musician sits up. "Yeah. Straight answers aren't your forte." Mike agrees, "Makes it harder to relay them too." Shifting to a kneeling position, he proceeds to step to his feet.

Ariah's followup question gets a nod. "Yeah. yeah. Hell, I haven't even figured out myself yet." He bends down to brush off the bit of white that clings to the folds of his clothing. "And yes, watch that. Last thing we need is for any of us to go too far." Mike too also carries a backpack, but judging from the lack of bulk to it, there's likely not much in it. Almost like it was an afterthought or the result of not knowing just what TYPE of hike they were taking.

Guess he should have asked more questions before leaving.

Mike nods to Ariah's question before looking back to Nettie, "Is it a unique creature or an alternative name for a more commonplace thing?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "Straight answers have never been my forte, mostly on account of it's difficult to get anything straight out of a lady who's had a wife." Nettie gives a wry smile back to Mike, and she raises one of her hand-rolled cigarette to her lips, and lights it with a cheap blue bic, and then takes a deep breath of the cigarette.

    "Eh. Basically we're looking for a variety of bigfoot that likes maple syrup and the Boston Bruins. Tales of the Wood Devils have been told since colonial times." she breathes out tobacco smoke from her unfiltered handrolled, and then turns to Ariah and Michael. "So might be nothing, in which case I heard there's a shop about seventy miles south that has the wildest chicken tendrs."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I understood that joke," Ariah deadpans to Nettie completely. Then she shrugs at Mike. "Figuring oneself out is the journey of life. Figuring everything out is the journey of life. I hope to put my immortality to good use doing so on both front," she states and moves to stand between the two individuals. She's so small.

    "Bigfoot. Yeti. Wood Devil. Kwyjibo," the woman nods and adjusts her hold on her staff some. "If it is a long hike, I am pleased to have brought some equivalent of a walking stick." Banter aside, though, she glances over to Nettie again. "In the case of it not being nothing? Is such a creature hostile? Or will we be considering sharing chicken tenders with such an individual?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Why would it m-"

Humor.

"-Ah. Got you." Mike gives a slight smile as he listens to the further explanation, "So, strictly an observation type of hike or are there reports of them actually causing harm?"

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie pauses in thought.

    "I'm not sure if the restaurant would be able to tell the difference between the normal clientelle, to be honest." she replies to Ariah, and then she gives a smile to Mike.

    "Depends on the mood of the wood devil. Though there's no official count of 'people lost to the wood devils' in New Hampshire, I don't think that any of the 'people lost to the woods in New Hampshire' might have been among such number. They can be moody. Encountered a Yeti. Once. Once was enough, really. They're abominable for a reason." Nettie states as she pulls up her backpack. "Made this awful, howling sound, you know, something like --"

    And she brings her hands up to her mouth. She takes a deep breath, and then unleashes the most horrible sounding screeching noise that might have come out of a woman of her size and stature, amplified by the quiet and snow of the woods around them.

    "JAYSUS NETTIE!" Corvax barks, flapping his wings in surprise as he nearly falls off her shoulder.

    And then he flaps off, and the crow takes to Michael's shoulder.

    "She's in a mood, I'm sure." he mutters.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah blinks when Nettie unleashes that horrific sound. She blinks. And she stares. Then, deadpan, she looks over at Mike. "...the wood devil has been found. We can go eat chicken tenders now." Her straight, almost monotone delivery is comedic in and of itself, perhaps. Then she brings a hand up and adjusts the hood of her jacket. It's a bit oversized for her. "You may hide in here if you want," she says quietly to Corvax before looking around again to see if the call of the wild disturbed or roused up anything.

    Then the girl's lips purse, "...if you are using a yeti call it may not work on the wood devil. They are two different creatures, non?" she inquires with complete seriousness.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Ok. So, if we treat this Wood Devil like one would any other form of natural wildlife we should be fine." Mike assesses, "And we don't do anything to an-"

The musician stops as Nettie lets out her screech. Mouth ajar, he tilts his head at the one leading the outing and then glances to the crow that has now taken to perching upon his shoulder. He makes no move to remove the bird and lets the feathery companion rest there. "-tagonize it..."

Ariah's question makes him glance over. "Well, Yeti and Sasquach are kind of the same thing. I'd assume different- breeds? Maybe they communicate in a similar manner but have some minor variations. Which makes me wonder..."

Mike looks back over to Nettie, "I really hope that wasn't an equivalent to an insult in Wood Devil."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "That all depends on if you believe that culture of a cryptid transcends different localiti--" Nettie begins.

    And there is a somewhat distant screech in reply, lower pitched and bellowing, and a wind follows through the trees making the naked beeches and birches shudder.

    It sounds aggressive. And too strong to be an echo.

    "... tease." she mutters under her breath, and she looks to Ariah and Michael.

    "Don't forget Yowie and Pongo. And in some cases, bunyip, but they tend to be more water-centered..." the witch states, and she clamps her lips down on the cigarette, and she withdraws her wand from her sleeve.

    "... incidentally, territorial challenge."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
SKREEEEE-AAAAAAAAWWWW

The reply to Nettie's cry comes closer than before. Much closer. Through the trees comes a rustling and whether it be the wind or something more sinister approaching is for the moment unknown. The boughs of trees shift in the wind as if pointing in the direction of the new arrival, whispering, 'This way, it comes this way.'

With one final crunch and crash of tangled underbrush tearing free, a figure breaks free from the treeline into the opening.

"Fucking---Briars!" Gabby kicks her boot free of the tangled viney briars. While they couldn't prick at her she certainly could get the laces of her boots caught in them which leads to her nearly crashing out of the trees, arms spread out for balance.

"Sorry I'm late. It's a little harder to track in the woods when you're not used to running around in it," she explains with a quick flash of a grin toward them. And then quieter she adds, "Skreee," which may explain the response to Nettie. "So good news and bad news. Good news is that last one was me. Second guess what the bad news is."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah turns her head, trying to decipher which direction that screech actually came from. Her sensitive hearing only goes so far, and out here where sound travels and echoes, it's not as useful as she might hope. "You speak wood devil?" the small woman asks, her head canting to the side at an angle. She's about to say something further when another sound is closer, louder, closer, and then the sound of someone smashing through the brush. Oh not it's--

    Oh. It's just Gabby.
    "Bonsoir," Ariah says quietly, slowly blinking at the other girl. Then she glances back off into the distance at nothing in particular. "...have we invited the menage a trois of territorial battles? I neglected to bring any popcorn..." she says quietly. There's a moment where she opens up her bag to confirm its contents, then nods to herself. "....non. Do not have popcorn."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike's brows raise as Nettie explains the nature of what she just shrieked out. "Yo- what?! You couldn't come up with something a little less triggering to screech out?"

Judging from the sounds approaching, there's not much time to lament about matters as the musician, and consequently his newly acquired shoulder friend, turns to look that way. Based from the sound of that response, that Wood Devil is none too happy.

When Gabby bursts out, there's a slight relaxing of the shoulder as he looks to the young mutant. "Oh thank God."

Right. Good news and bad news.

The musician sighs, "I'm guessing the first one we heard would be the Wood Devil."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "You'd be amazed what you pick up living in Tibet." Nettie replies, looking to Mike and Ariah, and she gives a small huff of breath, looking up. She holds a hand out a moment... and off to the East, there is a screech in reply, and she purses her lips.

    "I'm afraid that is the bad news." she confirms quietly, her wand still out.

    "Gabby, can you smell it? It's a scent of the worst body odour, mixed wih the stinking mud of a low river in the heat of summer and the reek of dog droppings, under the smell of pine tar and maple leaves. Ariah, see if you can smell it out. Michael -- can you feel it? They have a little bit of magic to them. Not much. Enough to hide and heal their briar-bites."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney slaps her hands against her thighs getting some brambles off while approaching the group. She wasn't entirely in her 'suit' but she had enough that it did make tromping through the dark woods a bit easier. Combat boots, leather pants, a... a Buffalo Plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up exposing her bare arms, and the half-leather gloves she wears. They weren't fingerless, but the back of the gloves rode low to cover just the back of her knuckles and not the entire palm. They looked custom-made. As for the shirt, that looked more like something her father would wear if anyone knew him. When in the woods, dress like woodsmen.

"That would be correct," she agrees with Mike only for her gaze to sweep over toward Ariah looking momentarily completely befuddled. "What does a threesome have to do with fighting demon critters? We're not gonna be fucking them! Least I'm not," she adds with a shrug. "Guess I shouldn't judge, but yes!" She snap-points toward Nettie's description of the smell.

"Smells like a boys locker room after a flood. And pine air fresheners."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah shakes her head slowly at Gabby. "Non, I meant, if it is a territorial dispute, and there are three of you making loud noises.. then it will be a three-way battle royale, non?" she asks quietly. "...hence the lack of popcorn being tragic..." she says and exhales a quiet sigh. Then she just blinks owlishly at Nettie like she sprouted a second or third head.

    "My apologies, but I am not able to... simply smell it out. Unless it is bleeding. My senses only extend to blood. If it has slain something recently and nearby.." she glances around, putting her nose up in the air. "...then oui. But..." she starts walking in a random direction, slowly sniffing at the air. "...I do not have the same well-honed senses of my sire. I am yet..." she admits, "...young."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike looks over to Nettie. "You should not be using me as a magic detector. It's a crap shoot on whether or not I even feel something of that nature near me."

The musician looks over to Gabby talking about other activities involving the creature they were seeking out. "I definitely did not sign up for THAT activity either." He states, just for clarity. "Since that's being brought up."

Peace said, he goes back to glancing around.

But, sometimes even the weakest of compasses can eventually prove useful. While true north might not be determined, as the creature comes closer, the musician ends up getting some sense of encroachment. Turning to the side, he looks in the direction the sensation's coming from, adjusting his position as it shifts. "I think it's this way?"

Vague. Less than assuring. Maybe helpful?

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    "If I wanted a magic detector, I would have made one, Michael." Nettie replies gently, "I'm trying to give you and Ariah the chance to... experience new things. Not bigfoot. Not experiencing that. Particular. Item. Yeeessh..." she gives a flat expression as the conversation catches up to her.

    The screeching comes even nearer, soft footfalls in the leaves, the sound seeming to echo through the woods -- and then, it seems to almost appear by some strange magic at the edge of the clearing. Dark eyes peering from beneath a heavy brow, nearly seven feet in the air, looming hungrily as it gazes at the magicians, vampire, and mutant clone. Its fur was mottled gray, blending in with the late fall landscape of pine and birch trees. It was thin.

    It was hairy.

    It smelled awful.

    ... and its leg was injured. The bleeding had long stopped and scabbed over, but there was a rusting beartrap clamped to its calf.

    It had come in answer to a challenge, a fight, but now was simply staring at the four weird creatures, as if trying to work out just... what to do with them.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
"Hey she's the one that mentioned a menage a trois," Gabby defends at Mike's response only to grin wryly. Given who they used to hang out with that was hardly her fault her knowledge of that phrase was lewd. "I get what you mean, Ariah, sorry. Cracking jokes in the face of danger is sort of a thing I picked up from the Robins."

Then the stench hits her causing her to take a single step back as it just... assails her senses. Without hesitating she pulls out a handkercheif from her pocket to press against her face inhaling deeply. Refocus. Focus on the familiar scent, not the icky one. Not the one that made her stomach clench regretting its' prior meal.

"Oh, it's hurt. Uh." Gabby pauses uncertainly only to lift her hand wiggling fingers in a wave. "Hi Wood Devil guy!" in a cheery tone that she hoped would carry over to mean 'we mean no harm.' Then her hand drops to point to her leg, "Got an owie? Maybe we can help."

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I have been making jokes since we got here," Ariah states in that even tone of hers. Telling jokes straight-faced is her delivery. She pauses in her motions, looking between the trio with her again, and then... the thing appears. "Is this how Weekend at Bernie's is supposed to go?" she asks softly, tilting her head slowly to one side, then the other. "I do not have any dried meats with me..." she states. Then pauses. Then looks into her bag once again. "Non."

    She wrinkles her nose, though. She doesn't need vampire senses to smell *that* and though the blood has long since dried, there's still that sharp tinge that brings it to her senses right there before her. She also slowly, lazily gestures to the bear trap stuck to its leg. Then she makes a slow gesture with both hands of prying something apart. "...do you want help?" she asks, taking a slow, careful step forward. It isn't as if she's worried it'll hurt her. No, the tiny woman is more concerned about scaring the thing off.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
The musician's face scrunches up as the wall of stench slams into him. It is by reflex that he steps back, trying to stabilize himself from the offending hit. When he recovers, he sees the trap. "Aw dammit." He mutters. All colorful commentary aside, the musician glances over to the Nettie to reference the not quite Yeti.

"Think if we remove that trap that's going to hurt it more? I could phantasm it off. No prying needed." Mike asks, looking to the crow on his shoulder, "Although, If I did that you'll probably want to go back to her shoulder beforehand."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie had set her face in a dry :| expression before the arrival, her senses tingling at the arrival of the slightly magical creature, and she breaths out a moment.

    "Wasn't expecting an injured one. Explains why it was hanging around human camps. Easy access to food. And it's deer season." she mumbles, and she looks about. She looks to her wand. She sighs, and tilts her head back a moment before she begins to chant:

    "Liesing ooser tunge wislic eare sie unwaclic swatheanailca self!"

    The gray hair on the back of her neck stands on end, and the smoke from her cigarette seems to ring around everyone in the clearing, lastly the bigfoot, and she looks around to the grouping.

    "Try asking permission. She should be able to understand you lot now."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney glances back toward the others. Since Ariah steps forward first she nods toward the older vampire a moment with a little grin. "I can't help really. I can heal myself, but not others." Even so she looks back toward the very, very tall bigfoot lady to tip her head back up and peer.

"Sorry if we scared you. Can we try to help your leg get better?"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "I cannot heal her either, but I can pry off the trap and perhaps offer bandages. I have had to patch up nasty wounds before..." she states quietly. The smell doesn't get to her, really, "...it smelled worse on the battlefield..." she muses. She looks back at Gabby, nodding in agreement and backing her up on the words. "Oui. Let us help you. I do not, unfortunately, have any snacks for you. But we can take off that trap." Maybe the girl is more at ease in the presence of other 'monsters', even if this one isn't so much like herself or anyone else she knows. Well. Maybe Logan.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike glances between the others and then to the creature. As Gabby's asked the question that needs to be asked there's not much more to do until they hear a response from the creature.

Gabby's comment about healing does make him consider a new factor. Before he didn't think they'd be able to do something as slow as actual healing. Removing a trap is one thing. But healing takes longer. If they can get the cooperation of the Wood Devil, then healing is very much back on the table. Which would require for him to not do one thing.

He nods looking over to Ariah and Gabby. "I have something that might work with the healing part, but someone else would have to work on removing the trap." Mike volunteers, "Kind of a resources thing. Doing both would be pushing it."

The performer looks over to the creature, "That is, if you're willing to let us help you."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    The Wood Devil looks in surprise as the others appear to just, communicate. It draws back a few steps, favoriting its left leg as it looks over its shoulder, and then sniffing the air with concern, it steps forward, just a little, into the clearing in the woods.

    "You... help?" she questions in a grunt. "Stop biting on leg. Stop biting on leg will help."

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney smiles encouragingly, hoping that the gesture is received the same between species. She does take care not to bare her teeth when doing so because that's just basic wild animal 101. "We help," she assures with a nod of agreement. Glancing at Ariah she gives her a simple 'mmhmm' of agreement with her.

"Not a problem. I can help with that."

With that decided she moves away from Nettie, Mike and steps forward with Ariah to help with the trap. Without care for how it might slice her fingers she works her hand in to grasp one side of the trap getting a good hold on it. The leather gloves likely help to protect her hands in the process. "Okay, pull on three?" She suggests waiting for an affirmation. Soon as she receives it the countdown begins.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Ariah doesn't really smell particularly strange. She smells... more or less like a human. And the 'juice boxes' of blood in her messenger bag are airtight so she really shouldn't give off any strange scents. Maybe magic? She smells very, very magical. The smol witch nods to Mike, "...we will remove the trap..." she says quietly, "...you heal?" Then she nods to the Wood Devil, approaching with Gabby, taking it slowly.

    The white-haired woman takes her half of the trap in both hands, not seeming to be too bothered by how it might damage her own fingers, and confirms to the girl with her, nodding. "Oui." She takes a breath, her muscles tense, and she counts. "Un. Deux. Trois. Go." Quiet but firm she speaks, and then she pulls, her own muscles and vampiric strength lending hopefully enough to not only pull the spring mechanism but also work through the rust.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
With a form of plan agreed upon and what appears to be permission given by the Wood Devil, Mike follows the two ladies but gives enough space between himself and them to start working on his own contribution. Hands cupped together, he takes a deep breath before working through the verses he feels are most helpful.

"It came so quickly,
Didn't see it come.
The blood its flowing,
You think you are done.

The pain as you move,
Knocks you to the floor.
It leaves you asking,
Can you take anymore?

It builds until that won't do,
The pain overcoming you.
Bite your lip and keep it in
A little faith will help you win.

One thing to ask
a tone demure
Raphael's flask
give me a cure."

From between the hands, there's the hint of a glow being pressed between them. The musician's eyes open, watching the pair work on the trap. He continues building up the energy, waiting for the proper time to use it.

"Mending
A Mending pace.
Perhaps that'll buy us awhile.
Healing.
A Healing place.
Time to give hurt denial

Deprive.
It's time to thrive."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    The Wood Devil gives a grunt, her eyes closing as she grabs onto a tree to give her something to hold onto while Gabby and Ariah grasp toe rusting metal of the trap, and there is a screeching cry out as the trap is pulled apart and taken from its skin. She gives a snort, blood this time drawing down her leg before Michael's spellwork draws through the cold, late autumn air, like leaves carried on the cool wind, and impressive to the creature, she finds her wounds closing, the build up of energy healing the wounds caused from the teeth of the bear trap, necrotic flesh and infection easing, then ceasing.

    "... atta girls and lad, duckies." Nettie breathes out, standing back and letting the younger ones deal with the Bigfoot, who then taps her foot on the ground, and reaches down to check her own leg.

Gabby Kinney has posed:
Gabby Kinney takes a deep breath and digs in herself. Pulling until her muscles strain, locking her elbows so that she doesn't release her grip. When her arms start to give she leans her weight back using her heels to dig into the ground so her bodyweight adds extra leverage to pulling it apart.

And apart it does pull. Her own blood joins the mix of ick that comes from where the trap pulls apart as it does cut through her fingers. Not a word is spoken of it though Ariah likely can smell the difference so close.

"I'm okay with wrecking this so it doesn't cause further damage," she suggests as it's pulled off, and she steps away taking care not to let it slam shut again.

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    Mike's singing is always a curiosity to Ariah. Especially the uneasy feeling that she was dealt the last time she heard it. It's a good thing Gabby takes the trap away, because the little vampire witch gives the group a little more of a wide berth, staying closer to the Wood Devil than to Mike for the moment. She looks the creature over, though, gazing at the remnants of the wounds much at the same time that she does.

    "Are there more of you? Do you need more help?" she asks, then glances back at Nettie. "...or should we make do and vanish into the night?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Once the trap is removed and the creature's leg is away from the possibility from being ensnared again, Mike takes a few steps towards the Wood Devil. Proximity to the wound apparently being a thing, he draws his hands apart revealing a bit of a Jacob's ladder of energy between the two. When the hands are spread out far enough, the energy snaps over to his right hand, seemingly pooling together before he brings the other hand close enough to the wounded leg for it to redirect over to it.

Energy transferred, the musician backs away, watching the injuries start to fade. A tired smile is given before he stumbles and recovers...slightly. Only Mike's ass hits the snow this time.

Ooof. Well, ok he needs a breather anyways. Don't mind him.

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    By the time Ariah glances back to the Wood Devil, and Gabby returns, the creature has disappeared, camoflaging itself back into the woods with a quiet, wonderous 'thank you'.

    Corvax gives a surprised caw as Mike goes down.

    "Steady on, mate. You did good. Better than Nettle could have done. She's shit at healing spells, mate."

    And Nettie is quietly watching, puffing away on the end of her cigarette as she looks over everyone involved.

    "Well! Something to be proud of. That Wood Devil shouldn't be showin' up in human campsites again, an' we've made a positive identification of a cryptid species! Well done, Duckies!"

Ariah Olivie has posed:
    "Quack," comes Ariah's first response to Nettie's assessment. Then she finally moves close to Mike to offer her hand to him. "We have done a good deed this day. Now are you glad you came out?" she asks, gazing down at him for a moment before glancing back to Nettie. "A successful mission. And we did not even have to hike very far. Are we going to walk the seventy miles then?" she asks, deadpan as always. Not that she would mind. She's had worse. And better. It's not too cold out. Yet.

    "Or is it back to the shop for tea?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Hearing the crow's admonishment coupled with encouragement, the musician tilts his head at the crow, "I just need a minute. I think I overestimated what was needed. Probably could have gotten away with just the chorus."

Then again he didn't really have a good look at the injury until after he had built up the energy.

When Ariah's hand comes to view, Mike glances up to the vampire. There's an uptilt to the side of the lip before it moves back. "Thanks." He takes the offered hand, allowing for her to pull him up. The reminder of food place previously mentioned does cause him to look over to Nettie, "I wouldn't mind checking out that place if we can skip the walking part."

Nettie Crowe has posed:
    Nettie gives a smile and a nod, and a wave "All right, it's a two mile hike this way. We'll meet an old mate of mine named Sparky, and he'll drive us back down towards Manchester, and in the morning -- or maybe after I get some chicken tenders in me -- we'll head back to New York." Nettie smiles. "Good thing I had all you about; I was definitely in no condition to take on a Wood Devil all on my lonesome!"