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03-04-2014, 02:50 AM
Lakota
The Poisoner Aodaun retreated the moment he came across Eytan and Apollo, fading into the shadows to turn and run back for his bonded. He somehow knew Eytan would lead Apollo to the two crumpled figures on the cavern floor, in the way that he knew he could not possibly be away from Lakota for another moment. Padded paws were swift as he returned to the cavern of glowing water, staying around the outskirts while Apollo came rushing in. He could not go to the unoccupied side of his princess, for fear of agitating the wound hidden beneath Ktulu's pale tresses. Not to mention the possibility of getting underfoot as Apollo went stumbling towards the cave he needed to be in, face slack and eyes wide. Lakota turned at the sound, twitching idly as her forelegs struggled to bring her to stand. It was automatic that she try to get up, protect herself, protect Ktulu. But her blood loss was having none of it, and she sank back down against the cherry mare with a soft groan. The words in her ears made her give a bittersweet laugh, lips curling tiredly into a smile as she awaited the return of some sort of help. It didn't matter to her, so long as she could just lay against Ktulu, how long it took. And it was maybe just a little bit cute, in that same bittersweet fashion, that Ktulu was so angry at herself. "I would have let you do it a thousand times over if it meant you were safe," the Poisoner murmured, conviction strong in her tone despite the weakness of the lyrics themselves. No sincerer words had come from her lips before, except perhaps the times she'd ever told Ktulu she loved her. "I always knew Archibald was a better asset," she joked weakly, laughter cut short by the wince of pain that shut her up quite effectively. It was a horrible joke at best, considering how badly it truly wounded her to know that. She was frail and tiny, pathetic in comparison to the all-powerful Dauntless. If Ktulu spoke the truth, if her boundaries and restrictions were destroyed as a wraith...what did that say about Lakota? She swallowed thickly and tried not to think about it. But it was easy, not to think, when she was so fucking tired! Whining unhappily, in fact rather grumpily, when Ktulu begged her to stay awake she gave a soft huff. "Just a little while," she pleaded, eyes heavy. It had been quite a while since she'd experienced bloodloss, but man did she not want to visit it again. It was...frankly, no matter how much she tried to cover it up in her thoughts with sarcasm and joking, it was terrifying. She tried not to look at the cavern floor, because the pool of it was slowly growing, and while she could stomach any amount of blood and guts, knowing it was her own life there on the floor made her feel sick. But she was spared a story by the arrival of Eytan, and she gave a wry smile. "Thank the Gods, I'm an awful story teller," she laughed, wincing and whimpering, gritting her teeth angrily at her own pathetic noises. Why couldn't she be strong just once? Why couldn't Ktulu lean on her for once? Apparently the Constrictor had been wise, as a wraith, to choose Archibald as her minion of darkness. Lakota would have been another weak link. She fell silent and tried not to let that thought tear her apart like it so desired to. And ah, wasn't it just beautiful? They spoke around and above her, while she stared down at the glow of the water off the surface of her own blood on the stone below. That was going to leave a stain from hell. But it hurt, it hurt so bad, like barbed wired curled around her heart, two strings connected to Apollo and Ktulu, and the two wouldn't stop moving about and cutting into her soul like sadists. Because Apollo was so relieved to see Ktulu, so concerned, so plainly adoring of her, that she was a ghost. Invisible to the both of them. And maybe she didn't know what kind of adoration he held for her, but it was enough to keep her voice trapped in a box of shame and guilt inside her throat. It had been Midas, and Apollo, and even the wraith of Ktulu had wanted Archibald. Was she just the playtoy? The one mare in a collection of studs, simply to spice up the collection? Ktulu had only ever loved stallions after all. But she'd said she loved Lakota, hadn't she? And she'd been so sincere, Lakota had heard it in her voice! And yet she was still crushed down to nothingness by her doubts. So instead, she beckoned Aodaun over with a glance, leaning her injured side upon him and hissing at the sting of his hair as it pressed to the wound. Moving away from Ktulu, standing on her own, what little strength she possessed demanding it be used to salvage what little pride she had left. "Just enough to patch it up, Polly," she tried to joke. "I'm sure Resplendence has plenty of herbs in that damnable box of her. No use in wasting magic right now, who knows how many more wraiths are out there." Strength solidified her tone, trying to divert the attention to the threat that lay outside the Sanctuary's walls. Not once did she look at either of them in the time that she spoke. Falling apart wasn't something she could afford to do. They'd had enough of her depressing bullshit, and she wasn't going to force them through it right after Ktulu was healed and returned to them. |
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