"Fate is not the same as Destiny. Fate is not yet decided, Destiny has been set since the birth of the world."

Tyler frowns as he looks down the street at the trail of toppled telegraph poles. He'd just been on a night stroll through the town to get some air when he came across what appeared to be a literal path of destruction. A path of unnatural damage that makes his very being panic.

"Dè air an Talamh?" he mutters, bending over to examine the cracked wood. He doesn't stray any closer to the sparking wires.

How, is the biggest question. A car certainly can't cause all this without leaving some kind of remains. And it wouldn't be able to handle this much abuse.

He steps over the fallen pole, scowling at each one with confusion. Even the tarmac is cracked and broken under his feet, but as for the cause, he hasn't the faintest idea.

Out of everything he's witnessed in this small town, this is by far the strangest. And that's saying something, considering the sights he's seen.

"Ifrinn fuilteach," he says upon finding a long trail of shattered road. Whatever did this was huge.

Seeing what appears to be a large claw marks, he grows unsettled, feeling as though eyes are watching him from every dark nook and cranny between houses. It's a little more reassuring to be able to see the lights of Eli's house on. But it's incredibly unnerving.

Lost in his thoughts, he's caught off guard when his feet kick something that's not gravel. His eyes snap down to study the object and he recoils upon recognising it.

"Toby's bag?" he picks it up and several empty taco bags fall out of the pockets. "No doubt."

Tyler looks down the street in concern, narrowing his eyes on an abandoned bike. His heart leaps in fear and worry, and he takes off towards it, praying to Deya that it's not what he thinks it is.

"Oh, ifrinn," he frets, examining the crumpled item in confusion. "Dè anns na nèamhan a thachair?"

The boy prays wholeheartedly as he continues along the trail at a sprint, fear clenching his heart. He worries for his friends, for he cannot imagine what might have possibly occurred to them.

"By the Triple Goddess, may they be safe," he murmurs, completely and utterly uncaring for his own safety. "If not, may I be able to save 'em."

Even as he enters the small stretch of wood between the neighbourhood and canal, a place where he feels at home the most, he does not stop, and the sight of multiple fallen trees makes him increase his speed tenfold. Not a single breath goes wasted, as his body needs all the air he can get as he exerts every muscle in his body.

The woodland ends just as suddenly as it began, and he nearly throws himself over the edge of the concrete canal with all of his momentum. It's a miracle that he catches himself before he tumbles downhill.

"Deagh nèamhan!" he cries, waving his arms about to regain his balance. "Ifrinn!"

His foot slips, and he follows it in its downward motion, rolling down the steep decline. Cries of pain and panic echo off the canal walls. It's possible to hear his pained curses from the neighbouring streets.

In his seemingly endless tumble, his heart is given the chance to question his recent use of a foreign language while his mind hollers in terror. He'd only started using the strange phases this morning after finishing another Celtic book.

He gives an excruciating yelp of pain as his body crashes at the bottom, feeling his shoulder crack from impact. "Sèid mi!"

Small whimpers and whines leave him as he squirms, gasping for breath as minuscule tears form in the corn of his eyes. He's very sure that he just, at the very least, fractured his shoulder, and the pain is nothing like he imagined. It leaves him scrambling for whatever coherent swears he can come up with, even though half of them make very little sense.

"Death woulda been kinder," he hisses between gritted teeth, clutching his injured arm.

He says this in a halfhearted attempt to make himself smile, but it does nothing but make him feel colder. Like a frosty chill settled over his bones and attempted to punish him for something unforgivable.

His teeth chatter and he grunts as he sits up, finding the movement more painful than it should have been under normal circumstances. If only he hadn't have gone for that walk.

But then he would never have found the trail...

He jumps to his feet, completely ignoring his injury now that he's remembered his very reason for still being out of the house. Jim! Toby! He has to find out if they're alright.

"Boys?" he calls out, praying for a response. He gets none.

His scowl deepens and he digs out his phone from his pocket, forever grateful that it survived the tumble. He scrolls down until he finds what he wants and hastily presses the button. His foot taps impatiently as the phone rings.

"Hello?"

Tyler's shoulders drop in relief and a heavy sigh escapes his nose. "Jim, where the hell are ye? Are ye alright?"

There's a bit of static over the line, but the boy's not concerned about that. "U-uh, yeah, yeah. I'm good, I'm alive."

He frowns, stopping his tapping. "Where are ye?"

"O-out!" he stammers and the boy bares his teeth in an expression of unbelief. "I'm out with Toby. I'll be back a bit later than usual. Bye!"

Tyler opens his mouth to retort, only to hear the dial, and snaps his jaw shut in annoyance. Blast the fool, he has no idea how worried his foster-brother was.

He growls lowly and stuffs the phone back in his pocket before wincing at the pain it sends through his arm. That's something he should probably get looked at. There's no use in standing around now that he knows Jim and Toby are decently okay.

And so he makes his way back up the canal side, ignoring his soul as it trembles under the gaze of something new. He's completely unaware of the glowing eyes following his every step.

Two can play at this game, @Silver-Ashley

I will beat you at it too!