#savagedstarter

All he could see behind his closed eyelids was blood. Blood and screaming and begging and his brother's big, blue eyes staring up at the heavens, lifeless. Marmaduke woke up immediately after the piercing cry from his nightmare; his hand instinctively moved to feel the soft pelts next to him, to search in vain for his twin. He wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere. The boy damn near ripped the entire tree to pieces in an attempt to find out where his brother was. He threatened each Devil, shoved a knife into the face of the older boys in an attempt to force them into a confession, but nobody's seen Binky. Absolutely nobody knew where he was. A sinking feeling started to wrap it's slimy fingers around his heart, squeezing it with each draw of breath. What if what he saw was a vision? What if Binks- No. Absolutely no way. He will search every single inch of Neverland for his brother if he had to, but he couldn't have died so suddenly. Without saying another word,  the Devil sprinted out into the woods, using the next few hours screaming for his twin until his throat got raw and his legs were nearly too weak to move much longer. By the time he reached the shore of Cannibal Cove, Marmaduke was much too exhausted and drained to walk back to the tree. He sat there near the waves for some time, gathering his strength to continue in his search. At long last, he heard someone behind him. The boy lifted his head just barely, his eyes still focused on the stretch of water in front of him. "Have you seen my brother?"

Slightly had amassed alot of lost things recently, keeping them hidden in a bag that was behind the two pieces of fur he used as pillows. He had taken them to the tree in the Neverwood, to put them in his box. His box of things no one knew about it. He tried to keep these trips secret because going to the Neverwood was always not a good thing, for people who weren't him, and probably people like Pan. But he had always been affected differently in the Neverwood, he knew his way around. His memory never got foggy, but that was all a different story.

He had burred the box, and was making his way back to the devil tree, knowing he had to pass hangman's tree. He was smart enough to know to go on the outskirts of their territory, but he also knew he was bound to cross paths with someone. He didn't want to, when he came out of the Neverwood, and people did know he went there they just didn't know why, really it was only Pan and the original Lost Boys that knew, he always felt more vulnerable. He would see the things in his box, and it was really the only time he let himself try and figure out why he didn't really remember things about his past, it was the only time he allowed himself to be honest.

So leaving the Neverwood he never felt that he was 100 percent. He was definitely more moody, and more provakable than normal. But he also knew that he didn't really want to fight anyone who came along, he wanted some time to himself, he wanted to sleep and recharge. He wanted to not feel vulnerable. He knew he was coming to the border of the Lost kids territory, so he began walking along side it, knowing full well to not cross that invisible line. He'd be home soon enough. He was being quiet, he was alert, but he was still in his own thoughts. He looked around no one seemed to be out, but he knew that someone was, because he was Slightly, he was never that lucky.

Braddock didn't have very much to fear from Neverland. Crazed denizens and wild beasts aside, she could handle herself very well, but beyond that, she knew when to keep herself out of a fight. As such, when her supply route took her close to Devil territory, she knew what things to look for, how close was too close, and she followed her set rules pretty religiously to avoid trouble. The doctor can tell, though, looking down at the sad mass of a dying girl, that someone obviously wasn't trying very hard to avoid a similar circumstance. Braddock crouches down quietly, checking for a pulse, and is silently amazed that there still is one, weak and fluctuating, but still present. She clucks softly under her breath, brushing the matter hair off the young girl's forehead, and turns her immediate attention to the knife deeply wedged within the other's upper arm. It'd been twisted savagely, but it had also served the valuable purpose of keeping the girl from bleeding out, and the doctor took that as a moderately good sign, despite realizing that the real work was close at hand. Braddock sighed, sparing a thought for all of the errands she still had to run, and pushed her satchel out of the way to instead get a good, proper grip on the girl, propping her up gently before hoisting her into her own arms, being mindful of the knife. Hook won't be pleased, she thought as she maneuvered the small body to a position more easy to carry, and began to make her way back towards the ship as quietly as she had come. The girl was small in frame but awkwardly bony, but the older woman took her time and, while she did exert herself greatly, made it back to the Jolly Roger without complaint from passenger nor body. The process of getting her into her office was facilitated by deckhands who had come to her aid as she had neared the ship, and then it simply turned into a pretty standard procedure, one Braddock was comfortable with after years and years of in-field experience. After an hour or more of intensive but relatively smooth removal, sterilization, and patching up, Braddock sat back on her haunches and simply waited, for Hook or the girl to regain consciousness, which ever one presented itself first. Perhaps she hadn't avoided trouble as easily as she had thought...

Flitting through the trees, trying to see what he could figure out about the happenings of Neverland. He heard a noise above, the fairy who was rarely in his human form, for the simple fact people would be able to see him then and it was easier being small, almost ran into a tree. The noise had startled him, his ears pricked up, and he looked around, when he saw the source, he flew behind a tree, his light shining through showing there was something there. He watched as the person came nearer, and slowly peaked an eye above the leaf, so only his black head of hair was shower. He hovered in place and asked, “Where are you headed?”

He's been dragging around the carcass for a couple of hours already, his body painted with dried blood and his hands damn near melting in with the hide of the animal. Once he reached Cannibal Cove, Marmaduke finally allowed himself to rest, tossing the lifeless thing next to him before he sat down on the soft sand with a tired sigh. The Devil reached into his small bag for a pipe and a pinch of tobacco, a wonderful treat he previously stole from the Jolly Rodger months prior- that, and a box of matches, to which he used to light up his smoke. As he rested, his lazy gaze wandered towards a figure in his peripheral vision, and though Duke did not speak, he watched quietly, smoking in silence.