.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
09-10-2015, 06:14 AM
Everything happens too quickly. You watch out of the corner of your eye as the goddess remains unaffected by nearly everything that is thrown at her, and instead of shifting her focus (from what it should be on, those attacking each other or her refusing to see the immediate danger the wolf-god poses) she simply flings those that would try to harm her away, as if they are but leafs on the wind. It causes you to pause, looking for those that may have been harmed by her defense, but it does not seem to be the carnage that the previous battle had been. You shudder at the thought of the man that you had healed, the panic that had gripped you coolly, the way that he had just shrugged his injuries off. You are suddenly very aware of the gratitude that you feel for this being less of a shit-show. In the blink of an eye the shadow-god is felled, the heap on the ground bringing but a fraction of the terror that it had just before. But it begins shifting, disfigured replicas molding themselves from the remains. You can only stare, your stomach churning with sickness at the sight of them. The blood still burns what it touches, and while some cry out, pulling you from the grotesque sight of the mutant wolves, their bodies burned mildly, it is as a grey girl’s magic finds the skin of a man coated in frost that you find yourself moving in his direction, assuming that he will need it more urgently than those touched by the blood of the god. He calls to you then, your heart collapsing in on itself with worry. Your eyes search frantically for him, your body poised to run, to shelter him, to save him, every nerve tense with every fear that you had harbored of losing him, of him experiencing further pain under the guise of protection. It is only a singular flash of movement among chaos that catches your attention, your sandstone man rushing towards you with a sense of urgency that at first has you searching every inch of him for any immediate signs of harm. When you find nothing you sigh a sigh meant only for yourself, relief flooding your changeling heart as confusion takes place of the concern knit across your dark face. You do not have time to ask questions, to voice your anxiety as he pivots in front of you, his antlers reaching, hungry for the dark shadow-flesh of one of the mutant wolves that had apparently been coming for you. A sheepish appreciation finds you, tempered by misplaced indignation. The latter flares within you defiantly hot, worsened only by your worry for where his priorities lay; he should have been protecting himself, especially when he had been so determined to charge off into battle despite your protests (and he calls you stubborn), not worried about you when he could be hurt for being distracted, when you do enough worrying for the both of them, when you have means to defend yourself. You cannot deny the surge of warmth, despite your frustration, at the thought of him wanting to keep you safe, that invades your heart then; you indulge it for only a fraction of a moment before locking it away for another time, swallowing the smile that came with it. |
team anti-wolf
* mentioned aithniel, mauja, rohan
moves to help mauja after seeing him burned by aithniel, is intercepted by rohan fending off a mutant wolf
please tag enna in every post
violence permitted barring permanent injury / death
