[ leave the woods to the wolves and the dark to the beasts.

Allison must have deleted that message, along with the rest of them, because when she crawls close enough back to civilization (hah, this ship and that word) and her comm crackles to life in her back pocket from one too many times jamming the power button down, the sound of twigs and nature speaks the truth for her.

how - how - do people keep getting lost in the ship, and how did she let herself become one of them? ]

Now I know why we never went camping when I was younger. [ she sighs and grumbles, wondering if there are any leaves in her hair, or if her skin is ever going to stop feeling like she's walking through the silk of spiders, never seeing the web until she's in the thick of it. and as though she's experienced in lectures that revolve around a) doing what's ill-advised and b) stumbling back apologetically, she steps in first because there's no turning back a butt dial. ] Since that's out of my system, I might as well say that I'm done jogging a path in the gardens without a partner. And no, I don't need assistance.

[ dirt on her cheeks and her shirt and filthy hair aside, she's fine, except that she went for a run to clear her head and find her ground and fell away from it instead. proof in point, she's dusting herself off and holding her shoulders square. ] But I do have one request.

Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski. Are they still passengers aboard this ship? [ and how long was i missing? ]

[The feed begins by showing a poorly-lit image of an all-too-familiar alien lying on his side against a workbench in his lab. His disheveled white hair covers his face and neck, but there’s no mistaking that sickly green skin and that tailored leather coat. As the feed shifts and moves, and he fails to notice, it becomes more obvious that he’s out cold. In the otherwise silence of the room, the voice is almost unnerving for how softly it comes across.]

Hey. Hey, time to rise and shine Sleeping Beauty.

[ Which is when a girl’s feet come into view- those who know Hayley will recognize her voice, even without her face accompanying the feed. Is she-

She is.

She’s totally prodding the guy. Who even does that.
Regardless, it’s clear that it’s the audience she’s speaking to, voice caught somewhere between annoyed tension and an unimpressed sigh. ]

Hey guys, your giant alien passed out, and, like, I dunno about you- [ The communicator turns around, bringing her eyes and lopsided smile into view ] but there is no way in heck I can carry him. So uh, medical or, something. Whenever you’re ready, ta-da.

[There’s a muffled groan from the Wraith, and from the sound of it, he’s not only coming to, but actively fighting against gravity. When the feed turns back to him, he tries to push himself up off the floor, and only succeeds in rolling onto his back. His lips part into a snarl that’s half pained and half irritated.]

I told you to go away. [His voice is barely audible, and every word sounds like it’s coated in rust. Hayley's, on the other hand, is saccharine even in it's pity. ]

You really should know by now. That never works on teenagers.


[ooc; pink for Hayley & green for Todd! replies can be directed at either!]