deep grove

@✼ jeon jungkook The crunch of leaves sends his heart into overtime, trying to turn his head towards the sounds. It sounds like two legs, and he knows it wouldn't be a bear by the much quieter, much more careful. He'd alerted something, someone, and he prays it's one of his own. He can barely make out the figure that's shuffling behind the brush, trying his hardest to push past the sight at the corner of his eyes, knowing that he's limited to just this view. His fingers pause in their pulling, waiting quietly, wanting to see the antlers pop up, needing to see them. A pair of boots come into view, and Jimin manages to glance upwards, but just as he does, the foot collides.

Damn it.

He lets out a squeal, mostly of pain, as he's jostled, tugged towards the side, this figure - much larger than his - falling onto him, just as he was asking where he was. Gee. Jimin groans, glad that this little endeavor didn't end with his antler being broken in half. That would have . He can deal with holes, scratches, damages that weren't so surprising, but his antlers? One snapped in half? He'd miss decorating them with flowers, and ribbons, poking at his friends with them, playfully, of course. How could he lock with someone and demand submission? Also playful. Of course. ( Half the time, at least. ) Jimin lets out a huff, managing to shift just enough to let his eyes wander over the other.

Oh, oh he's - a human. A villager. His fingers reach out towards him, this man much different than Yoongi. Much more broad, his skin tone more honeyed, like he's in a well relationship with the sun, unlike the fairness the grump man had possessed. "Guess you found me?" He offers, his voice hoarse, the usual chipper tone falling flat, even to his own ears. He sounds disgusting, a bit nasally, congested from breathing in dirt and grass, and he can only imagine what the top of his head looks like. Probably caked in the day's worth of dirt, some sweat, and blood.

He prays that this man is nice, because his pleas would be nothing but dark humor for him. "Could you .. Help me out of here?" He gives the bear trap a little rattle, catching sight of his fingers. If the looks of them were anything to go by for the rest of his appearance, then damn, nasty. Dirt's caught under the nails, surrounding the lining of his nail with a rusted, crusty coating of blood, and ground. He needs a bath. And food. Lots of it. Please, he whispers in his thoughts to the gods; please, let him be good.

@✿ park jimin He's ed.

It's half past five, an eventide that beats too steady--- about as merciless as one would presume on a Tuesday. As merciless as his professor will be when he slips in his project an entire day late. Ask Jeon Jungkook why in this never-ending universe that he chose to pursue a Botany course with a full-fledged degree in Photojournalism, he couldn't really say. It seemed easy at the time. Just a snarky cesspool of tree-hugging naturalists studying the anatomic and symbolic nuances of a daisy. ing, hippy . And yet it was this very hippy that might cost him his degree as he tumbles through the forest, cradling a backpack stuffed with plants. A hodgepodge of flora and fauna, so terribly neglected in their stuffy nylon confines. It's all for the sake of a flighty passing grade, but he can't dwell on it--- not when he meanders past the same tree for a third time.

"They all look the same, Kook," he scolds to himself but the beading against his temple tells him that he hasn't fooled himself. He's lost, he's sure of it. And though he knows this forest enough to get in and out of it pretty safely, that was only ever granted that he stay on the traveler's pathway. A path he'd slipped from in his panic to find a "coniferous juniperus". Whatever the hell that was. He's a millisecond away from panic, though, when he hears it. A soft trill against the stilled forest air--- a suspension of fear that wafts across his shoulders and stands the hairs of his nape on attention. Jungkook brings himself to a halt, tilting his head as if to better catch wind of the sound. And within moments, surely enough it arises again. This time, more recognizable. A cry of pain bleating out against the silence.

Jungkook's moving before he can even talk himself out of it, skirting through the firs, his backpack flopping languidly at his side. "Hey!" he tries, losing the sound and gritting his teeth in frustration. "Hey! Where are y---" Of course he never finishes. Of course he's so unknowingly close that he ends up plowing into the figure right as he rounds a dusty thicket. His foot catches at the crook of an elbow and he finds himself intimately cradling the forest floor... and a snared body sandwiched haggardly between them both.

@✼ jeon jungkook The sky bleeds less than he at the moment, caught in a series of unfortunate events. His fingernails are torn from trying to pry, his hands gritty and caked with dirt, and traces of blood, his own blood. The trap was set in such a way, that it took him a full thirty minutes to come to terms with the fact that, yes, this had just happened. It had been early in the morning, just as the rays of sunshine stretched across the sky, when he set out on a small trip. A harmless one, with his satchel empty, ready to be filled with furs from his own catch, and plants that were to be ground down to a fine paste for later. His feet had led him down the slope of a hill, gamboling freely across the leaf laden floor, until his ankle had caught on a string so thin, he wasn't sure how it hadn't snapped from his weight. He'd tumbled, and fell forward, unable to catch himself before his face ate the dirt, and the heavy sound of a /clink/ met his ears. Terrifyingly metallic, and then the pain hit. Whoever had laid these traps was looking for something much bigger than he. One antler was caught, the bear trap digging straight through the middle, and it hurt. It ached. With his ankle tied, and his antler stuck, there wasn't any way he could move in either direction to release the traps. At first, his blame set on the man that adored playing the psychological seesaw games with him, but not long after his name had crossed his mind, he deemed that no, this was a freak accident, meant for bears, meant for something to eat.

Funny, how things work out, he thinks as he lays haphazardly on his side, eye peeking up to the sky from his peripheral. He'd tried calling for help, early on in the day, but ... Nothing. No one. They'd come looking soon enough, he knew, when he didn't come back to his little home. Jimin let out a soft croon of pain, his groan muffled by the forest floor, as his fingers tried fruitlessly to pry the bear trap from his antler. A day wasted, and a sudden call for disinfecting replaced it, when he should be at home - this is what he gets for straying from paths. This is what he gets. The reality of his situation weighs heavy, and he knows that if he doesn't move, then the sting of pain wont hurt so bad, that he'll be able to fall asleep and speed up this waiting process. He's not going to die, there's barely even any blood. He's just .. Got to wait it out. Help will come.

Just not the kind he expects.