thearena | Sabertooth Tiger Attacks

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Sabertooth Tiger Attacks

Who| Everyone who wants to fight Smilodons or run from Smilodons or watch in horror!
What| Sabertooth tigers are rampaging through the Arena!
Where| The forests
When| Monday & Tuesday
Warnings/Notes| Violence against humans and animals! Make your own threads as you like. You can also tag in to run from the tigers, rescue people from them, or watch others fighting them.

The first signs of trouble are noticed on Monday morning. As the snowfall ceases, a foreign rustling could be heard amongst the trees of the forests. The rustling became louder and closer, and soon it was obvious that there were dozens of massive furry beasts roaming the woods. But they weren't the peaceful herbivores of the autumn, oh no. These things were massive, vicious, and on the trail of something to eat.

Those who had taken shelter in the woods would notice them first and likely need to run away. However, the cats would not be contained to the forests for long. By Monday evening, the sabertooth tigers were rampaging through most regions of the arena, ready to tear apart any sorry soul who crossed their paths.

The cats are looking for blood. Will you give it to them?

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The cats weight has pushed him down into the snow and Bucky strains to keep those jaws from getting any closer to his face, all the while worrying that his layers of clothing weren't going to stand up to those claws. He gets a good blast of its hot, stinking breath in his face before suddenly the cat let's out a yowl, releases his arm and turns its attention on someone else.

Sam he thinks, sluggish for a moment before snapping into the mindset that's kept him alive all his years as a weapon. There's no time to do anything else but act.

He scrambles his way back onto his feet and pulls out one of his hunting knives, eyes quickly flicking over the scene to assess the situation and making a decision. The cat, lion? whatever it is, it's big and mean, is too focused on Sam for hurting it to pay Bucky adequate attention. Taking a deep breath he throws himself forwards and onto the animals back, using the metal hands unyielding grip to get a hold on its fur and plunge his knife into it's ribs, close by where Sam's initial strike landed.

Immediately the cat is snarling and wheeling, twisting to try and get on the pest that has hold of it while Bucky holds on grimly for dear life.

That’s definitely one way of keeping it at bay. Sam’d be impressed at how well Bucky was managing to keep his grip on a giant angry, squirming cat, but he doesn’t know how long he’s going to be able to keep it up. He’s got to take advantage of it while he can.

The second the thing’s attention is off of Sam again, he lunges back in. Bucky’s on its back, stabbing into its ribs, which means he has to choose his plan of attack more carefully - but really, Sam’s confident in his abilities with his knife, and his reflexes are fast enough that he doesn’t worry about accidentally hitting Bucky instead of the cat thing.

He waits until it’s twisted away from him in an attempt to get Bucky off, exposing its side, and goes in for a gut shot. Sam stabs under it, coming in from the side with his arm twisted a little at first, so he can use his forward momentum to slice sideways through the cat’s stomach as he rolls away from it. It’s not as fluid of a movement as he would like and he’s a little slower getting back up on his feet, because damn does his leg hurt, but it does the job. And he can ignore the pain as he circles back around, getting ready to move back in if he needs to, if Bucky can’t finish it off.

The answer to that question was that Steve Rogers wasn't the only guilty of pulling off reckless, impulsive moves, as much as the old Bucky Barnes would have protested it. The other answer was that a metal hand which could grip very hard and also not get tired really, really helped.

The knife digs deep, sawing at the skin and then tears free as the cat spins. If he lets go though Bucky thinks he'll be dead, it's too fast to allow a single mistake. If he goes to the ground again the cat will get him but luckily he's not alone.

Sam's attack to the cat's stomach causes it to let out an ear-splitting yowl of pain. Bucky approves of the point of attack as he lets go, tumbles into the snow and then throws himself back onto his feet. The animal, preoccupied with its own already mortal injury, has no time to react then as he weighs the knife and with pinpoint accuracy, throws it so it pierces through the sabertooth's eye and into it's brain.

It's still not an easy death. The cat falls and starts to convulse, it's steaming blood rapidly staining the snow around it.

Bucky ignores those death throes to focus on Sam, breathing hard as he staggers a little and then steadies himself to move through the churned up snow towards him. "You're hurt." he's not walking away from this unscathed either, his back and chest are going to be heavily bruised by tonight but it's not as bad as the wound Sam has sustained.

Oh, of course Steve isn’t the only one. Sam’d bitch about it, but considering his track record of somewhat impulsive actions, he doesn’t have much of a leg to stand on. ...not that it’d stop him if he really wanted to, but he’s too focused on the cat at the moment.

There’s a brief moment where Sam tenses himself to go back in again, in the not-quite panic of seeing Bucky roll of into the snow, but he falls back when Bucky obviously has it under control. “Nice,” Sam comments absently, because that was a good throw, even though he’s mostly watching the cat thing to make sure it’s actually dead.

He doesn’t bother to protest that he’s fine when Bucky points out that he’s hurt. He’s not fine, and just because he’s still standing at the moment doesn’t mean he’s in great shape. Sam hasn’t gotten a chance to assess his injuries yet, but he knows it hurts, and the leg of his pants is already starting to get tacky with blood.

“What the hell even was that?” he asks instead, twisting a little to get a closer look at his leg. “I’d like to have a name for what just mauled the crap out of me.” He gives up looking at his leg and starts scanning their surroundings. “You see a rock or something so I don’t have to sit down in the snow to take a look at this?”

Once he reaches his friend Bucky is offering out his arm as support if Sam wants it. At the moment he seems to be able to stand up under his own power but the fabric of his trousers gets in the way of being able to tell just how bad the wound truly is.

"I don't know." he really doesn't. "A lion?" it looks like a lion, a vastly overgrown one but Bucky is pretty sure lion's don't have teeth like that. If that cat had managed to get a bite on either of them they'd probably be dead. Buck'y pretty sure that under the sleeve of his parka his cybernetic is sporting some new dents and scratches. "Whatever it is, I don't want to meet another."

There was that distant roar to clue them into the fact that more than one of these creatures was running around the arena.

"There's..." he looks around and nods towards the treeline where a fallen tree trunk is visible. It has some snow on top which can be brushed aside, "there."

As soon as he sees Bucky offering, he takes the support, hooking his arm around Bucky's and leaning on him a little. Just because he can stand doesn't mean he should, and he's not going to risk making the injury worse in the middle of the arena.

"The Capitol version of a lion, maybe," he mutters in agreement. "Yeah, you're telling me." The way his leg feels right now, Sam's really not looking to have another one get its claws into him. Or worse, its fangs. Puncture wounds are a hell of a lot harder to take care of.

He turns to follow Bucky's gaze when he says he's found something, smiling a little. "Perfect, man, that's-" But he cuts off - he'd thought he'd spotted something when he'd turned, and he'd automatically glanced back to check after he saw the tree stump. Sure enough, that's definitely a pair of parachutes that hadn't been there before. "Hang on, I think someone liked the show."

"It's deep." Bucky is looking with greater concern at Sam's leg, as he moves to slowly guide Sam over to the tree stump. "We should get you back to the cave as soon as we've stopped the bleeding." All their medical supplies were there, as was Bruce Banner, who would be able to do a better job taking care of the wound than Sam alone or Bucky could. The last thing they needed was for Sam to end up with an infection.

He looks up and back at the carcass and blinks for a moment, noting the parachutes. The containers that have fallen with them are fairly large. "You need to sit down, I'll get them."

Nudging Sam to carry on to the tree stump, Bucky will brush it free of snow before allowing his friend to sit and then going to retrieve the parachutes himself. For now he leaves his knife in the dead cat, deciding that the parachutes are more important when the knife isn't going anywhere. With any luck there'll be something in them that will help Sam.

“It’s gonna need stitches,” he admits. He can tell that just from his cursory look - and hell, just from the way it feels. He won’t know how much of a pain in the ass it’s going to be to get them stitched up until he can get his tattered pants out of the way and get the bleeding managed enough to get a decent look at it. “Probably a good idea.”

As reluctant as he is to go anywhere when he’s not stabilized, and has the potential to start bleeding again and leave a trail, they don’t have another option. He’s a little pissed off at himself for not bringing more than the very basics of med supplies with him.

While Bucky checks out the parachutes, Sam starts in on patching himself up. There’s no saving his pants, not with the way the cat’d mauled them up, so he cuts his injured leg free and starts repurposing the fabric to make pads to stop the bleeding. Then he jams his knife into the tree trunk - still within reach, but the damage is over a large enough area that Sam’s going to need both hands to push down. He triples up on the pads and presses them against his leg, hard, letting out a grunt at the pain.

He keeps one eye on his injury, watching for signs of it bleeding through, as the other watches Bucky’s progress.

The containers and parachutes are picked up together and Bucky tries to ignore the fact that he feels like he was hit by a car as he makes his way back to Sam. The silver fabric and cord of the parachutes could be useful itself later, which is why he doesn't discard them.

When Bucky reaches Sam he notes his friend is already working on slowing the bleeding, that's good. Since there's not much room for Bucky to help with that he crouches down and opens the first container, the one addressed to him. Inside he finds a supply of fresh water and food, a sleeping bag and, to his surprise, a machete. Well, that would have come in handy five minutes ago.

He'd be more pleased about these gifts in a different situation but for now pushes his box aside and turns his attention to Sam's. It's the larger box and once it's open he can see why. Bucky roots through the contents; another sleeping bag, food, water, a lantern and... relief flood through him as he pulls out what is stamped as a deluxe medical supply kit and sets it down in the snow, opening the lid to look at the contents.

"They really liked it."

Sam's still watching Bucky closely as he comes back, picking up on the little signs that he's not feeling in top shape and frowning a little. He hadn't had any obvious signs of injury before, so Sam'd focused on the mess of his own leg, but now he's reconsidering.

He keeps the same level of pressure on his leg while Bucky sorts through the containers, even though his attention's split now. This part of it doesn't require much focus, at least, so he can try to check Bucky out at the same time. And grin just a little as he starts pulling things out. Hot damn, even with the way his leg ended up, the payoff is pretty damn good.

"Oh hell yeah, that's what I'm talking about. We're set, man, you don't gotta worry about carrying me anywhere now."

There's a slightly shaky but mostly relieved exhale, as he looks back down at his leg and adds another pad on top of the rest, pressing down hard again. "All right, I'm gonna have to ask because I can't look you over as easy as I'd like - you hurt anywhere?"

"You sure about that?" Bucky says, a little dubious at Sam's words. He might be bruised from the fight but if it's required he'll carry his friend all the way back to the cave without a word of complaint.

Bucky would agree the payoff was worth it as well, that is if they make it back safe without Sam getting some kind of infection in his leg. "Do you need me to help?" he asks, watching Sam work. His hands are steady, even if his own medical knowledge was limited.

The question prompts a shake of his head, pushing away the idea that he needs medical treatment. "Some bruising, that's all."

It hit with a lot of force when it pounced on him out of the trees, after which Bucky had hit the ground with a lot of force. Which is why his back is complaining as well as his front.

“Hell yeah. I’ve patched up worse under shittier conditions, man, least we don’t have dust and sand getting everywhere here.” There’s only a little bit of bravado there. It’s going to hurt like hell, and he knows it, but it isn’t as bad off as it could be. And it’s a hell of a lot better than trying to get back to the cave with it open to the elements, or wasting bandages wrapping it up when they’ll just have to take them off to get the stitches done anyway.

Sam starts to say Bucky can hand him stuff, or maybe apply pressure to part of the slash marks while Sam stitches up the others, but then he pauses, considering. “Do you know how to do stitches? If you don’t, do you want to learn?”

His leg is kind of shredded, since mauling doesn’t tend to be all that neat, and he knows he’s gonna have to piece it together a little, but there’s nothing that says he can’t show Bucky how to do the stitching while he holds it.

Except the fact that it’s going to hurt like hell, but whatever. It was going to anyway, and there’s painkillers in there. Although speaking of which…

“All right, I’ll take your word for it. If you want painkillers, though, you can take ‘em.”

"That would be worse." he says flatly, not totally convinced by Sam's words but deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. His friend is the trained medic, not Bucky.

"Yes, I learned how to patch myself up in emergencies." until he could get to the extraction team. They only taught him enough to hold himself together so he wouldn't die before he made it back into the hands of the doctors, they didn't want him to be too independent after all.

Bucky pushes those thoughts aside as he focuses back on Sam, shaking his head at the offer of painkiller. "I'll be fine, Sam."

There's no need to waste the finite supply.

“Exactly. This is a piece of cake compared to that.”

Sam nods when Bucky says he learned how to patch himself up, considering. It’ll be faster if they’re both working on it, but it’s definitely going to hurt more. Really, though, it isn’t much of a choice - faster is obviously the better option, even if it means he’s going to have to suck it up and grit his teeth through the pain.

He flashes a small smile at that, strained but genuine. “Wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t worry anyway.” That, and he’s pretty sure Bucky usually has a different definition of ‘fine’ than Sam does.

The bleeding has pretty much stopped now, as good as it’s going to without stitches, so Sam lets out an exhale. “Help me with the stitching? You take one end and I’ll take the other?” The last time he’d said something like that, he was talking about Christmas lights, but he tries not to think about that now.

"If you say so." Bucky nods, still unsure but not wanting Sam to worry more than he has to.

He turns and looks down into the box, searching until he finds a couple of the needles and thread for doing stitches with. If he could he would rather take Sam back to the cave where Bruce would probably be able to do a better job of this, but it's a hard slog back through the snow. It wouldn't be a problem if he had all his strength but now, with an open wound on Sam's leg, it would simple take too long to carry him there without stitching it first.

"Let's get it done." he doesn't want to be out here if another of those cats smells the blood in the air and comes to investigate it. Bucky threads both needles before holding one up to Sam to take.

All right, bravado is officially getting dropped, as Sam takes the threaded needle from Bucky. He can already feel himself gritting his teeth together as he gears up for this, so he takes the precaution of folding up a piece of fabric to give himself something to bite down on. There's no talking from him after that, just occasional muffled grunts as he pieces his leg together and tries to ignore the pain of two sets of needles stitching it up.

He's a hell of a lot paler than he should be by the time it's done, but his stitches are just as professional as they've always been, and his leg looks worlds better now that it's not a mess of shredded flesh.

"You might still have to help me back, I can't a hundred percent guarantee I'm not going to pass out on the way." He's aiming for joking, but he's also kind of serious, and he can't quite tell where it ends up.

Bucky tries not to focus too much on what Sam is doing, or how he's reacting as they make the stitches. He concentrates on the job at hand instead, wanting to get it done fast and save his friend some pain while he's at it. To that point he doesn't look up from his work until his row of stitches meets Sam's.

They're tied off and Bucky's sits back, taking both needles back and wrapping them up so they don't contaminate anything else in the medkit before placing them back. They can be cleaned properly later.

"I've got you." is the reply he gives Sam, completely serious and determined as Bucky stands up out of the snow. He's ready to go after he takes care of one thing first. "Wait here."

Bucky leaves Sam for a moment to return to the corpse of the cat. They can come back later for the meat if no one or nothing else gets to it first but there's a part of the animal too useful to left behind. He retrieves his knife, then sets about prying both gigantic incisors from the creatures jaw before heading back to Sam and offering him a hand up from his seat.

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Sabertooth Tiger Attacks

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