Yet Rickter did not care for that right now. Once the light around them waned and the pressure in the air was gone, Rickter's crumbled shields finally dissipated into neon lights when he'd fallen onto one knee. That took a lot out of him. Even just by shrugging off the meteor strike alone he would've felt tested, but now that he hadn't an entire horde of enemies to worry about, the rest of him that he'd put off seemed eager to finally catch up. It was while those present celebrated their sudden victory, that Rickter felt the impressions he'd staved off finally push on through.
He felt the rush of cool air chill his skin in a way that wasn't quite what he felt before, understanding that the very impression he received from Imogen was of a memory at an inn. Rickter knew that smell! That northern mountain air scent was home! Even when they were apart, somehow, it seemed that Imogen was never far from the wolf. That meant something to Rickter. But as the rest of what he felt hazed on through he witnessed a brief gathering, some sort of meeting with plans laid out across a table. He understood from the way Imogen felt and how she spoke with them, they were familiar as though they were fellow Sunsingers to the secretive Ork.
Where she planned to go? Rickter didn't catch that as the next wave already assailed him, feelings of butterflies and passion washed through him like a ghostly nostalgia. It was late in the evening as far as he could tell, and the feelings that poured through into him were so alike in ways he'd felt before. Hector's night of romance stirred those memories deep in Rickter, as he reflected long and hard of those days with Talon that were now lost. When that wave of resonance faded within him, the wolf briefly looked at the elf with a melancholic stare, before the next wave that came through wrenched his heart into action.
Heartache. The death of something beloved. These were just the underlying feelings that resonated deeply beneath the outer layers of fear and terror. Clearly, Rickter knew who this woman was by just a strand of fate alone, only because the demons that haunted her dreams were the same that haunted his in turn. Yet to finally meet the savior of the Knob in Zaichaer's final hour, when the storms threatened to blot out the city in it's entirety, well, the wolf himself felt a sick twisted sense of irony over how they would meet again. Vanessa was as fine a warrior as ever, and clearly, an asset he could count on if he were to make it worth her time.
But most of all, the sheer exhaustion as the final resonance came crashing through him, as Rickter felt the last of the impressions pass through him when Avamande's thoughts filtered through as well. They were excited about something, an understanding the wolf finally started to grasp about them, and it was clearly a puzzling excitement the Hytori seemed to hold onto. There were the ruminations of an interesting journey ahead of him, before the pains of Avamande's overstepping carried through as well. Rickter felt as though his skull were ready to split in half by now. As he clutched over his temples momentarily, he took a moment to reassess the situation, while his auditory senses took a mixture of ringing and questions related to what exactly happened.
Finally, the ringing too had passed. And with the resonance within Rickter settled, at last, he felt better able to focus and concentrate on what took place before him. So... That was what it was like to Echo someone of the living. It was no small wonder the wolf's ancestors mainly stuck with calling upon themselves, a sign most obvious when he felt a red warmth trickle out of his nostrils. "Shit, Av!" The wolf realized when he heard the hoarse tone his friend had shared, yet even so, Rickter could even feel a sense of pride at the moment as well. It was strange, for whatever reason, he felt as though he were bonded. Only not.
The overall familiarity between everyone one of these people, that alone spoke of something to Rickter, which is why he minded them all before he turned to rush near the Hytori. "Far too many to be pushing yourself overboard, mate!" The wolf quickly enthused when he knelt down next to Avamande. "Beautiful as that spell was, you should never call it on your own." Though who was he to lecture a peer on his approach with magic, and yes while nearly overreaching, the sheer expression of his will brought down in the smite of a meteor... Not even Rickter would've guessed at how to make such a potent spell.
Upon the shore that his Elven friend had collapsed on, there came a clearing of the residual mists before an island resided before them. Nothing impressive beyond its shores, of course, just a cluster of trees and foliage found gathered through the isle's center. Yet it felt familiar to be here again. And somehow, Rickter knew this place in particular tied in with him somehow. "That was an invasion of the soul. And a very risky response to the situation." The sound of a young man faded in from mere echoes before his physical avatar manifested.
Standing on the beach near Rickter was the Dawnmartyr Alistor, a knight Rickter regarded with respect after having met the ancestor. What seemed uncanny, however, was the startling resemblances both wolf and knight had with one another. "But hoo boy, that was certainly somethin' to see." Another voice came through as the Zaicher private investigator manifested, the exact resemblances between him and Rickter uncanny when he stood between Vanessa, Imogen, and Henry.
"Alistor," Rickter called within moving away from Avamande's side, "did you get to see or hear anything Tiberius said before he left?"
"Only in whispers. I'm afraid I know only enough to inform your friends, speaking of which," the knight's stoic eyes fell on the Hytori as he too knelt down to check on him, "how fair's your companion here?"
"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Dialogue" Thought "Alistor" "Callen"
"Dialogue" Thought "Alistor" "Callen"
