Encounterlogs
Korinas Odd Encounter Sr Nikolai 240716
In the midst of a vibrant and otherworldly flea market, a place teeming with magical creatures and enchanted stalls, Korina, a seasoned inhabitant of this supernatural realm, finds her leisurely stroll interrupted by the screams of a human stranger. The woman, an amateur paranormal investigator who has unwittingly stumbled upon the gateway to this magical world, is in a state of panic, threatening Korina with mace and fear evident in her actions. Despite her initial disinterest, Korina, intrigued and somewhat amused by the human's distress and naivety, decides to follow the unfolding drama. The confrontation swiftly escalates when a group of satyrs, native creatures of the Otherworld, attacks the woman in their territory, causing further tumult and drawing a crowd of onlookers from the nearby tavern.
The chaos intensifies into a violent free-for-all as Korina, using her illusory abilities, incites infighting among the satyrs, seizing the opportunity to rescue—or perhaps abduct—the injured and terrified investigator. With the human now in her custody, Korina brings her to an old, wise woman known for her healing and alchemical skills. Initially mistaken for a victim to be harvested for ingredients, the human is instead subjected to a series of treatments designed to erase her traumatic memories of the event and to integrate her into the Otherworld community as one of their own. Through a cunning combination of psychological manipulation and magical intervention, Korina and the elderly alchemist transform the woman from a potential threat to the secrecy of their world into an oblivious and docile member of their magical society, thus containing the potentially disastrous breach of their hidden existence from the human world.
(Korina's odd encounter(SRNikolai):SRNikolai)
[Mon Jul 15 2024]
At the flea market
The road here is lined with various stalls and stands, where faelings, faeborn and stranger creatures hawk various wares. Smells both delicious an foul float on the air, depending on which stall one stands near. A red cloth tent is situated to the south of the fleamarket. To the southwest, there appears to be a tavern.
The weather here is always warm and pleasant, regardless of the conditions of the surrounding forest.
It is night, about 76F(24C) degrees, There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(An amateur paranormal investigator has stumbled onto the truth of the supernatural world and has evidence. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
Amidst all the beauty and wonder of the Other world's flea market; amidst the colours and petals and scents (both floral and uric); amidst the faelings and the faeborn and the satyrs and the shadow-folk, there is a shrill, piercing scream from up along Oberon Way. A distinctly human scream. Someone probably just stepped out of the gate and into the gore-strewn abattoir that serves as the landing to this most beautiful and magical of other worlds. Oh dear.
"OH, GOD," filters a shrill, feminine voice. There's some excitement, there, but it is drowned out by all the fear. Then, "OH, GOD! PLEASE! I'M STUCK?"
The sun is far from rising, and Korina is just strolling along the bustling flea market, a hand in her pocket while she walks around, a roasted turkey(?) leg in the other hand that's serving as an early breakfast. The occasional greetings she gets from Faelings who have begun to see her as mildly familiar by now are returned in either a nod or a squinty, suspicious look, depending on how much she likes the person in question.
The scream gets her attention immediately though. Mid-bite, there's a confused mrrr? before Korina swallows down the meat and slowly strolls her way over across the campsite and onto the road proper, squinting up towards the gate. "Don't be loud. It is bad for business," she calls out before she's even caught sight of whoever it is in whatever predicament they're stuck in, never mind that there's drunken shenanigans booming out from the tavern anyway, plenty loud. Still, may as well go stop the screaming.
The panicked screaming does still persist a little, even with Korina's relatively pedestrian appearance. There's a fit blonde woman freaking out in a puddle of mostly dried girl by the time she actually gets there - thirties, maybe, or well aged in her forties. She's dressed in some fairly sturdy outdoors-wear; thick cargo shorts, proper hiking shoes, a breathy tank top and canvas vest, a backpack... She's dressed for wandering in the summer heat.
"S-" She fumbles at her pockets, then produces a thin orange cylinder that a wildling like Korina may or may not recognise as a canister of mace. "Stay back! I know what you are! You can't have me!" She scooches herself backwards into the blood puddle, scrabbling away from the approaching woman. There's the outline of a pocket knife in her back pocket, too, but it'd be hard to pull out right now. A minor detail, but perception like Korina's entitles one to these things.
Korina is at enough of a distance that the mace would be hard pressed to get her if the woman decided to go for it, unless the wind happened to blow at the exact right moment. She stands there, eating her Turkey Leg of Dubious Origins while watching the woman scramble around in the pile of blood and gore, her head tilting faintly to the side. "Okay," comes the easy agreement, dispassionate. It's not like Korina's entitled to help a random panicked woman who's pointing mace at her anyway, right? She finishes up her breakfast leg and throws the bone aside for the forest creatures who may be interested in it, before telling the woman. "I don't want you. Go on." There's curiosity - where shall you go now, Lost Hiker Lady?
Hold the applause, please, but the lost woman goes the Other way. As in north. She flinches away from Korina and takes off up the road in a panicked flap. She's a little too worked up to slow down and think; all her instincts are telling her to Run Away From The Fae. She's not so fast that the leopard-woman couldn't catch up, but she's no slouch, either, and she'll have run herself right into the woods before long, despite all her equipment. If she's lucky, she has the supplies to last a few days out there. It's just a shame that she's carrying the wrong kind of compass.
In the Other, all ways are Other ways. Korina doesn't need to rush to catch up - the woman is leaving a scent trail all across the woods, and all she has to do is casually follow it at her own pace, yawning a little along the way. It really is too early to be doing any proper chasing, right after she's eaten too. Plus, the woman is likely from Haven, and it would be too much of a pain trying to wait for her Sanctuary to drop. Isn't it easier to just let the winding trails of the Otherworldly forest and the confusing twists and turns that lie within deal with her?
Korina continues, her pace as though taking a walk in the park.
Sure enough, and soon enough, there's another shrill, piercing cry through the air - and the thrum of a sling being whirled, and stone bullets being launched. The screaming intensifies with a yelp of pain... and then there's the goatish bleating of one of the satyrs prowling the woods. Seems someone got to her before Korina could, with her laggardly pace. Sanctuary wouldn't protect her much from the natives, even if it did stop Korina.
Of course, all the screaming has picked up interest from others, as well. A few of the Toadstool's patrons have started wandering up the road behind her - and a few are a bit more excited about it. Korina' be last to arrive, at this rate.
(fix) Sure enough, and soon enough, there's another shrill, piercing cry through the air - and the thrum of a sling being whirled, and stone bullets being launched. The screaming intensifies with a yelp of pain... and then there's the goatish bleating of one of the satyrs prowling the woods. Seems someone got to her before Korina could, with her laggardly pace. Sanctuary wouldn't protect her much from the natives, even if it did stop Korina.
Of course, all the screaming has picked up interest from others, as well. A few of the Toadstool's patrons have started wandering up the road behind her - and a few are a bit more excited about it. Korina will be last to arrive, at this rate.
It's not like Korina had a claim or anything. She's fine being a little late to arrive, because the languid pace really doesn't hasten too much when the screaming starts again, just enough to ensure she won't be dead last. Still, Korina pushes up close to where all the noise is coming from, so she can see it for herself - what's going on, Hiker Lady? Decided you don't want to go that way after all?
Hiker Lady's already down and out, back on her ass as a half-feral satyr manhandles her. She's bleeding from a blow to the head - likely the fault of that sling she'd heard - which means that she's bleeding a lot. It's already thickly coating her cheek and down her neck, but beyond a possible concussion, things shouldn't be too bad. Head injuries just piss blood like a damn fountain. With the growing circle of witnesses, given that the woman had only barely made it into the woods before getting attacked, a few other of the feral satyrs have formed something of a protective, defensive formation around the pair on the ground, gnashing flat teeth and slapping their chests and bellies in challenge while those rectangular pupils whirl between potential foes. It'll descend into an all-out brawl if anyone tries to purloin their prey from them.
There's a click of Korina's tongue, an annoyed 'tch' before she steps forward. "Dumbass," she tells the nearest group of half-feral satyrs, slipping into the Wildling tongue just to make sure the word gets through clearly. Yes, she's talking to /you/ too, mister Tumnus' babier-faced cousin holding a sling. If he wanted to kill her, shouldn't have attracted /this/ much attention. If not, shouldn't have hit her in the fucking head.
Korina isn't quite in a mood - and likely doesn't have the time - for an all-out brawl against a dozen or however many satyrs there happen to be when the sharp scent of blood is reaching her nose with every breath, even if her mood is rapidly worsening with every passing moment. It's time for a bit of shenaniganry.
Illusory power at her fingertips, she darts forward to punch the closest satyr right in the face, probably hard enough to knock him out entirely. That, of course, will look like it came from the /other/ nearby satyr instead of Korina, and hopefully cause a bit of an infighting kerfuffle. A bit of distraction in the corners of eyes, an illusory cloak that hides herself from view, and Korina attempts to make her way through the circle of satyrs so she can throw that one guy off to the side with all her strength and heave up the woman over her shoulder. Let them brawl, if it comes to that. A bit of bloodshed is good for tourism, right?
It's like throwing a match into a pile of tinder. Korina throws the first punch and the ring of satyrs explode into action, charging into the assembly of onlookers - many of whom are also just human - and ultraviolence breaks out in all its bloody gory. Her little cloak of magic doesn't hold up so much to the immediate mosh pit of thronging bodies that swallow her up amongst them, but none of these people - other than that blue-haired fuck watching from nearby, content just to huff the fumes everyone's giving off - are a real threat to her. Still, without her armour, there's only so many misplaced fists or feet to the kidney the wildling can take before she's rendered as breathless as the rest of them. Hiker Girl makes it a bit better than the rest, having been at the outskirts of it all, but she gets trampled underfoot once or twice, and her pain only stirs things on further - what a mess.
They may be 'just human' but they've also lived amongst the creatures of the Other their whole lives, for most of them. They'll be fine. A little bruised ego and a few bruised ribs and maybe a death or two - these are just things you learn to get used to, out here. Korina shifts in the middle of the crowd just so she can get through the clamor and the kicking feet and punching fists more easily with a feline's agility, and she reaches the Hiker Girl's side so she can grab her by the backpack - like a mother cat carrying a kitten who's gotten slightly too large to be carried anymore, she lets the woman dangle from her mouth, hopefully without the straps of her backpack breaking, and bounds for the trees to weave around them and back to the Commune, careful not to let any more head injuries take place in the process. She's not /too/ far - she can probably make it back to the Flea market and the red tent close by, and the Old Lady of Mysterious Origins probably has something to ease her pain.
Something for Hiker Girl's pain seems prudent - someone broke her arm stepping on it in that brawl. The head injury's not the biggest deal for her to deal with anymore, and getting dragged off by a leopard is still fairly terrifying. She whimpers and moans in her pain, but the satyrs can deal with Korina(snow leopard)'s thieving antics later. For now, she has the human safely squirreled away, and the woman seems to have taken the Ol' Reliable approach of dissociating as much as she can to get through the situation. She doesn't say a word to her saviour - not that she expects the leopard to understand her, anyway.
Even if the leopard can understand her, it's not like Korina(snow leopard) can even answer if she were to say anything. For now, she's just making her way through the familiar twists and turns of the Other forest, down April's Trail, past a little gravesite - get a good look, Hiker Girl, this is where you're gonna go if you're lucky if you don't get your shit together - and through the mostly-abandoned-now flea market to make her way into the spacious tent. The woman is dropped at the feet of the old lady there, and Korina(snow leopard) sits back on her hindpaws to lick her fur clean after sending an expectant look the elderly woman's way - she knows what to do with this, surely.
Well, the first thing the older woman does is grab a trusty scalpel - but a quick glare from the leopard is enough to impart that this is, for whatever reason, a rescue, not a donation. She hacks up a purple-and-black loogie, spits it onto the earth below, and starts getting her things together, grinding some herbs into a basic and barely medicinal poultice that will nonetheless do a decent job of numbing the skin beneath its application. It's not an alchemical potion, but there's probably less horrific side effects from something herbal - and besides, it didn't look like the Earthling was a paying customer. An eyebrow is raised - did Korina(snow leopard) want to handle this herself?
If she wasn't a paying customer, she's going to be soon. Korina straightens after cleaning her paws and shifts back to human for those handy opposable thumbs before she's reaching over for the woman's backpack - a slice of her claw and a light tug gets it off without jostling her broken arm too much, and then Korina's getting her grubby paws all in there - does she have any food, perchance?
"Don't do something dumb." she tells the Hiker Lady as an aside and then informs the old woman, also in the Wildling tongue, "Take care of her. Or bandage her and throw her out if she screams again. We don't need stupid noise, but if she's behaving, good."
Korina eyes the Hiker Lady for a second after that, then simply goes back to rummaging through her belongings once more.
She does have a good amount of what Korina can recognise now as beef jerky, but otherwise it's mostly Earth snacks. Doritos, cheezits, some gummy-looking fruit candy. Two of those big fancy drinking bottles that are all the rage with young women for some reason... a bunch of journals about chasing fairies... A fucking sword, which appears to be a cheap piece of shit on closer inspection, with COLD STEEL branded into the Japanese-imitation grip wrapping around the handle... This girl's a total amateur. It's a wonder how she found the gate in the first place, but there's definitely no compass to get back out. No wallet or ID, either.
The aged pseudo-alchemist grumbles in Wildling about a waste of their time, then gets to work numbing Hiker Girl's injuries. The poultice gets slopped onto that head cut, as well. It probably has antiseptic properties.
Korina will take those, thank you. She pulls out some of the beef jerky to nom on it even if it's not her favorite, though the gummy fruit candy can stay where it is. Ick. And then Korina reaches out with a sneakered foot to prod at the woman. Is someone in there? "Hey," comes the demand for attention while the woman's getting antiseptic paste slathered over her head and arm - hopefully after setting the bones back into place. "What is the plan?"
"I -" the woman chokes off into a sob. She's scared, tired, and in a fair amount of pain, even with herbal analgesics kicking in. "I just want to go home. I just wanted to see a leprechaun, for god's sakes." She stares up at Korina, plaintive and teary-eyed. "Please. Just let me go home and I'll never come back again!" Of course, she's aware now, and a plausible - likely, even - breach of the veil, waiting to blow. Letting her go would be an issue... especially if she knows where to find a gate to another world.
Korina lounges back casually on the ground, leaning against a nearby table leg while she munches on her jerky, evidently unmoved by all the tears. "Sure, go find your way home," comes the easy agreement, without a care. There's a Look flashed up to the woman even as she says the words - she knows what happened the last time she ran away, right? The aftermath can still be heard faintly in the distance.
The woman stares up at Korina, then, terrified and at a loss for what to say. At the moment, she's just going to lie there and let her injuries be tended to. She doesn't have the agency for anything else.
That's what she thought. Korina scoots closer then, half a strip of jerky poking out from her mouth, and inspects the woman with narrowed eyes. She hasn't brought a backup compass, so letting the woman escape with the one she's got is entirely out of the question. It's a rare commodity out here, and the last thing she wants is some random human to gain access to both exits of the gate. "Stay here," she tells the woman, before going down below to her lab. The old woman can watch after her while she's gone.
It doesn't take too long to come back up with a couple of syringes filled with dubious liquids. "Hold still," Korina tells the woman. "This will help you." She doesn't sound too reassuring, but really - is she expected to? Korina isn't the mothering type. There's a glance over at the old woman - if she struggles, hold her.
The first one is a soothing balm, really, as the needle pricks into the hiker's skin. All her memories before her coming into the Other, gone like footprints being wiped away in the rain, a blank slate for the next syringe. Family? She doesn't have one.
The next syringe... yes, of course, she's always lived here. She's a part of the Commune, and the Commune is a part of her. The Otherworldly woods she knows like her own, she remembers wandering there as a child, picking berries and laughing with other children her age. The Faelings have always taken care of her, and she'll take care of them too. She's just had a head injury from a bad fall that's left her unable to speak the Wildling language, but that's something that can be fixed, right? After all, this is a place of magic and wonder. Everything will be alright. It always is...
The chaos intensifies into a violent free-for-all as Korina, using her illusory abilities, incites infighting among the satyrs, seizing the opportunity to rescue—or perhaps abduct—the injured and terrified investigator. With the human now in her custody, Korina brings her to an old, wise woman known for her healing and alchemical skills. Initially mistaken for a victim to be harvested for ingredients, the human is instead subjected to a series of treatments designed to erase her traumatic memories of the event and to integrate her into the Otherworld community as one of their own. Through a cunning combination of psychological manipulation and magical intervention, Korina and the elderly alchemist transform the woman from a potential threat to the secrecy of their world into an oblivious and docile member of their magical society, thus containing the potentially disastrous breach of their hidden existence from the human world.
(Korina's odd encounter(SRNikolai):SRNikolai)
[Mon Jul 15 2024]
At the flea market
The road here is lined with various stalls and stands, where faelings, faeborn and stranger creatures hawk various wares. Smells both delicious an foul float on the air, depending on which stall one stands near. A red cloth tent is situated to the south of the fleamarket. To the southwest, there appears to be a tavern.
The weather here is always warm and pleasant, regardless of the conditions of the surrounding forest.
It is night, about 76F(24C) degrees, There is a waxing gibbous moon.
(An amateur paranormal investigator has stumbled onto the truth of the supernatural world and has evidence. Your target and their allies are tasked with containing the situation.
)
Amidst all the beauty and wonder of the Other world's flea market; amidst the colours and petals and scents (both floral and uric); amidst the faelings and the faeborn and the satyrs and the shadow-folk, there is a shrill, piercing scream from up along Oberon Way. A distinctly human scream. Someone probably just stepped out of the gate and into the gore-strewn abattoir that serves as the landing to this most beautiful and magical of other worlds. Oh dear.
"OH, GOD," filters a shrill, feminine voice. There's some excitement, there, but it is drowned out by all the fear. Then, "OH, GOD! PLEASE! I'M STUCK?"
The sun is far from rising, and Korina is just strolling along the bustling flea market, a hand in her pocket while she walks around, a roasted turkey(?) leg in the other hand that's serving as an early breakfast. The occasional greetings she gets from Faelings who have begun to see her as mildly familiar by now are returned in either a nod or a squinty, suspicious look, depending on how much she likes the person in question.
The scream gets her attention immediately though. Mid-bite, there's a confused mrrr? before Korina swallows down the meat and slowly strolls her way over across the campsite and onto the road proper, squinting up towards the gate. "Don't be loud. It is bad for business," she calls out before she's even caught sight of whoever it is in whatever predicament they're stuck in, never mind that there's drunken shenanigans booming out from the tavern anyway, plenty loud. Still, may as well go stop the screaming.
The panicked screaming does still persist a little, even with Korina's relatively pedestrian appearance. There's a fit blonde woman freaking out in a puddle of mostly dried girl by the time she actually gets there - thirties, maybe, or well aged in her forties. She's dressed in some fairly sturdy outdoors-wear; thick cargo shorts, proper hiking shoes, a breathy tank top and canvas vest, a backpack... She's dressed for wandering in the summer heat.
"S-" She fumbles at her pockets, then produces a thin orange cylinder that a wildling like Korina may or may not recognise as a canister of mace. "Stay back! I know what you are! You can't have me!" She scooches herself backwards into the blood puddle, scrabbling away from the approaching woman. There's the outline of a pocket knife in her back pocket, too, but it'd be hard to pull out right now. A minor detail, but perception like Korina's entitles one to these things.
Korina is at enough of a distance that the mace would be hard pressed to get her if the woman decided to go for it, unless the wind happened to blow at the exact right moment. She stands there, eating her Turkey Leg of Dubious Origins while watching the woman scramble around in the pile of blood and gore, her head tilting faintly to the side. "Okay," comes the easy agreement, dispassionate. It's not like Korina's entitled to help a random panicked woman who's pointing mace at her anyway, right? She finishes up her breakfast leg and throws the bone aside for the forest creatures who may be interested in it, before telling the woman. "I don't want you. Go on." There's curiosity - where shall you go now, Lost Hiker Lady?
Hold the applause, please, but the lost woman goes the Other way. As in north. She flinches away from Korina and takes off up the road in a panicked flap. She's a little too worked up to slow down and think; all her instincts are telling her to Run Away From The Fae. She's not so fast that the leopard-woman couldn't catch up, but she's no slouch, either, and she'll have run herself right into the woods before long, despite all her equipment. If she's lucky, she has the supplies to last a few days out there. It's just a shame that she's carrying the wrong kind of compass.
In the Other, all ways are Other ways. Korina doesn't need to rush to catch up - the woman is leaving a scent trail all across the woods, and all she has to do is casually follow it at her own pace, yawning a little along the way. It really is too early to be doing any proper chasing, right after she's eaten too. Plus, the woman is likely from Haven, and it would be too much of a pain trying to wait for her Sanctuary to drop. Isn't it easier to just let the winding trails of the Otherworldly forest and the confusing twists and turns that lie within deal with her?
Korina continues, her pace as though taking a walk in the park.
Sure enough, and soon enough, there's another shrill, piercing cry through the air - and the thrum of a sling being whirled, and stone bullets being launched. The screaming intensifies with a yelp of pain... and then there's the goatish bleating of one of the satyrs prowling the woods. Seems someone got to her before Korina could, with her laggardly pace. Sanctuary wouldn't protect her much from the natives, even if it did stop Korina.
Of course, all the screaming has picked up interest from others, as well. A few of the Toadstool's patrons have started wandering up the road behind her - and a few are a bit more excited about it. Korina' be last to arrive, at this rate.
(fix) Sure enough, and soon enough, there's another shrill, piercing cry through the air - and the thrum of a sling being whirled, and stone bullets being launched. The screaming intensifies with a yelp of pain... and then there's the goatish bleating of one of the satyrs prowling the woods. Seems someone got to her before Korina could, with her laggardly pace. Sanctuary wouldn't protect her much from the natives, even if it did stop Korina.
Of course, all the screaming has picked up interest from others, as well. A few of the Toadstool's patrons have started wandering up the road behind her - and a few are a bit more excited about it. Korina will be last to arrive, at this rate.
It's not like Korina had a claim or anything. She's fine being a little late to arrive, because the languid pace really doesn't hasten too much when the screaming starts again, just enough to ensure she won't be dead last. Still, Korina pushes up close to where all the noise is coming from, so she can see it for herself - what's going on, Hiker Lady? Decided you don't want to go that way after all?
Hiker Lady's already down and out, back on her ass as a half-feral satyr manhandles her. She's bleeding from a blow to the head - likely the fault of that sling she'd heard - which means that she's bleeding a lot. It's already thickly coating her cheek and down her neck, but beyond a possible concussion, things shouldn't be too bad. Head injuries just piss blood like a damn fountain. With the growing circle of witnesses, given that the woman had only barely made it into the woods before getting attacked, a few other of the feral satyrs have formed something of a protective, defensive formation around the pair on the ground, gnashing flat teeth and slapping their chests and bellies in challenge while those rectangular pupils whirl between potential foes. It'll descend into an all-out brawl if anyone tries to purloin their prey from them.
There's a click of Korina's tongue, an annoyed 'tch' before she steps forward. "Dumbass," she tells the nearest group of half-feral satyrs, slipping into the Wildling tongue just to make sure the word gets through clearly. Yes, she's talking to /you/ too, mister Tumnus' babier-faced cousin holding a sling. If he wanted to kill her, shouldn't have attracted /this/ much attention. If not, shouldn't have hit her in the fucking head.
Korina isn't quite in a mood - and likely doesn't have the time - for an all-out brawl against a dozen or however many satyrs there happen to be when the sharp scent of blood is reaching her nose with every breath, even if her mood is rapidly worsening with every passing moment. It's time for a bit of shenaniganry.
Illusory power at her fingertips, she darts forward to punch the closest satyr right in the face, probably hard enough to knock him out entirely. That, of course, will look like it came from the /other/ nearby satyr instead of Korina, and hopefully cause a bit of an infighting kerfuffle. A bit of distraction in the corners of eyes, an illusory cloak that hides herself from view, and Korina attempts to make her way through the circle of satyrs so she can throw that one guy off to the side with all her strength and heave up the woman over her shoulder. Let them brawl, if it comes to that. A bit of bloodshed is good for tourism, right?
It's like throwing a match into a pile of tinder. Korina throws the first punch and the ring of satyrs explode into action, charging into the assembly of onlookers - many of whom are also just human - and ultraviolence breaks out in all its bloody gory. Her little cloak of magic doesn't hold up so much to the immediate mosh pit of thronging bodies that swallow her up amongst them, but none of these people - other than that blue-haired fuck watching from nearby, content just to huff the fumes everyone's giving off - are a real threat to her. Still, without her armour, there's only so many misplaced fists or feet to the kidney the wildling can take before she's rendered as breathless as the rest of them. Hiker Girl makes it a bit better than the rest, having been at the outskirts of it all, but she gets trampled underfoot once or twice, and her pain only stirs things on further - what a mess.
They may be 'just human' but they've also lived amongst the creatures of the Other their whole lives, for most of them. They'll be fine. A little bruised ego and a few bruised ribs and maybe a death or two - these are just things you learn to get used to, out here. Korina shifts in the middle of the crowd just so she can get through the clamor and the kicking feet and punching fists more easily with a feline's agility, and she reaches the Hiker Girl's side so she can grab her by the backpack - like a mother cat carrying a kitten who's gotten slightly too large to be carried anymore, she lets the woman dangle from her mouth, hopefully without the straps of her backpack breaking, and bounds for the trees to weave around them and back to the Commune, careful not to let any more head injuries take place in the process. She's not /too/ far - she can probably make it back to the Flea market and the red tent close by, and the Old Lady of Mysterious Origins probably has something to ease her pain.
Something for Hiker Girl's pain seems prudent - someone broke her arm stepping on it in that brawl. The head injury's not the biggest deal for her to deal with anymore, and getting dragged off by a leopard is still fairly terrifying. She whimpers and moans in her pain, but the satyrs can deal with Korina(snow leopard)'s thieving antics later. For now, she has the human safely squirreled away, and the woman seems to have taken the Ol' Reliable approach of dissociating as much as she can to get through the situation. She doesn't say a word to her saviour - not that she expects the leopard to understand her, anyway.
Even if the leopard can understand her, it's not like Korina(snow leopard) can even answer if she were to say anything. For now, she's just making her way through the familiar twists and turns of the Other forest, down April's Trail, past a little gravesite - get a good look, Hiker Girl, this is where you're gonna go if you're lucky if you don't get your shit together - and through the mostly-abandoned-now flea market to make her way into the spacious tent. The woman is dropped at the feet of the old lady there, and Korina(snow leopard) sits back on her hindpaws to lick her fur clean after sending an expectant look the elderly woman's way - she knows what to do with this, surely.
Well, the first thing the older woman does is grab a trusty scalpel - but a quick glare from the leopard is enough to impart that this is, for whatever reason, a rescue, not a donation. She hacks up a purple-and-black loogie, spits it onto the earth below, and starts getting her things together, grinding some herbs into a basic and barely medicinal poultice that will nonetheless do a decent job of numbing the skin beneath its application. It's not an alchemical potion, but there's probably less horrific side effects from something herbal - and besides, it didn't look like the Earthling was a paying customer. An eyebrow is raised - did Korina(snow leopard) want to handle this herself?
If she wasn't a paying customer, she's going to be soon. Korina straightens after cleaning her paws and shifts back to human for those handy opposable thumbs before she's reaching over for the woman's backpack - a slice of her claw and a light tug gets it off without jostling her broken arm too much, and then Korina's getting her grubby paws all in there - does she have any food, perchance?
"Don't do something dumb." she tells the Hiker Lady as an aside and then informs the old woman, also in the Wildling tongue, "Take care of her. Or bandage her and throw her out if she screams again. We don't need stupid noise, but if she's behaving, good."
Korina eyes the Hiker Lady for a second after that, then simply goes back to rummaging through her belongings once more.
She does have a good amount of what Korina can recognise now as beef jerky, but otherwise it's mostly Earth snacks. Doritos, cheezits, some gummy-looking fruit candy. Two of those big fancy drinking bottles that are all the rage with young women for some reason... a bunch of journals about chasing fairies... A fucking sword, which appears to be a cheap piece of shit on closer inspection, with COLD STEEL branded into the Japanese-imitation grip wrapping around the handle... This girl's a total amateur. It's a wonder how she found the gate in the first place, but there's definitely no compass to get back out. No wallet or ID, either.
The aged pseudo-alchemist grumbles in Wildling about a waste of their time, then gets to work numbing Hiker Girl's injuries. The poultice gets slopped onto that head cut, as well. It probably has antiseptic properties.
Korina will take those, thank you. She pulls out some of the beef jerky to nom on it even if it's not her favorite, though the gummy fruit candy can stay where it is. Ick. And then Korina reaches out with a sneakered foot to prod at the woman. Is someone in there? "Hey," comes the demand for attention while the woman's getting antiseptic paste slathered over her head and arm - hopefully after setting the bones back into place. "What is the plan?"
"I -" the woman chokes off into a sob. She's scared, tired, and in a fair amount of pain, even with herbal analgesics kicking in. "I just want to go home. I just wanted to see a leprechaun, for god's sakes." She stares up at Korina, plaintive and teary-eyed. "Please. Just let me go home and I'll never come back again!" Of course, she's aware now, and a plausible - likely, even - breach of the veil, waiting to blow. Letting her go would be an issue... especially if she knows where to find a gate to another world.
Korina lounges back casually on the ground, leaning against a nearby table leg while she munches on her jerky, evidently unmoved by all the tears. "Sure, go find your way home," comes the easy agreement, without a care. There's a Look flashed up to the woman even as she says the words - she knows what happened the last time she ran away, right? The aftermath can still be heard faintly in the distance.
The woman stares up at Korina, then, terrified and at a loss for what to say. At the moment, she's just going to lie there and let her injuries be tended to. She doesn't have the agency for anything else.
That's what she thought. Korina scoots closer then, half a strip of jerky poking out from her mouth, and inspects the woman with narrowed eyes. She hasn't brought a backup compass, so letting the woman escape with the one she's got is entirely out of the question. It's a rare commodity out here, and the last thing she wants is some random human to gain access to both exits of the gate. "Stay here," she tells the woman, before going down below to her lab. The old woman can watch after her while she's gone.
It doesn't take too long to come back up with a couple of syringes filled with dubious liquids. "Hold still," Korina tells the woman. "This will help you." She doesn't sound too reassuring, but really - is she expected to? Korina isn't the mothering type. There's a glance over at the old woman - if she struggles, hold her.
The first one is a soothing balm, really, as the needle pricks into the hiker's skin. All her memories before her coming into the Other, gone like footprints being wiped away in the rain, a blank slate for the next syringe. Family? She doesn't have one.
The next syringe... yes, of course, she's always lived here. She's a part of the Commune, and the Commune is a part of her. The Otherworldly woods she knows like her own, she remembers wandering there as a child, picking berries and laughing with other children her age. The Faelings have always taken care of her, and she'll take care of them too. She's just had a head injury from a bad fall that's left her unable to speak the Wildling language, but that's something that can be fixed, right? After all, this is a place of magic and wonder. Everything will be alright. It always is...