Lakota & Ktulu

The Poisoner & The Constrictor

Watching the golden stallion limp off the battlefield, victorious, the sapphire dame sneered at the cowardly retreating back of the skull-faced bitch. In time she would have her revenge, would crush her beneath her power just as the Storm Bringer had done. But Lakota was no fair fighter. She would watch Confutatis gag up her internal organs, suffer until her end. Because if she and Confutatis ever met on the battlefield, Lakota would not let her walk away alive. Hissing softly to herself, trying to resist the temptation of chasing after the whelp of a wolf to finish the job herself, the damsel hardly caught the words of her new King. It was more than odd, calling someone aside Apollo or Ktulu her ruler, but he seemed a decent fellow. All that truly stuck with her after his words was the announcement of the meeting that was being called over the emerald treetops. Turning towards Ktulu, standing astride Archibald as they watched the challenge come to a close, she brushed her nose in a gentle butterfly kiss across her tattooed shoulder. Moving after their ruler, she turned crown over one shoulder and threw her a inquisitory, beckoning look, ebony plume twirling contentedly to wrap around one slim ankle.

Sure that her mate was going to continue behind her, she trotted after the wounded King, feeling bitter in her helplessness. It was a job she'd taken out of respect for her mate, when she had been an Earth Medic, and yet she had never anticipated truly missing it. Well, she had faith in Resplendence, her kitten was rather meek- thus the nickname she'd dubbed the terrified mare- but her magic was adept and flawless as any other celestial gift of healing.

In a sea of nameless, strange faces, the Poisoner has no real place to stand. Instead, she picks an open spot and merely cocks a hip, as if daring somebody to claim her little plot of land. The words of the leaders come in time, washing information over them as was the most frequent occurrence in herd meetings. Violet orbs narrowed in hatred at every mention of Confutatis. Aurelia was nothing to her, aside from an annoying child with a narrow mind, as she recalled from the Tournament. Gods help that mess of a foal-brained meatsack. Aodaun chortled softly in her mind, growling and grunting in amusement aloud. Clearly he was in agreement.

Those who were gathered were blank canvases, but it did nothing to keep her eyes from wandering. And wander they did, to two little bodies huddled close to a pale canvas. One she recognized as Brisa, the worried mare from the Tournament as well. Eyes and face softened lovingly, almost longingly as she looked at the intimidated little bodies hiding close to their mother's flanks. It was hard to pay attention when there were two adorable little foals that absolutely demanded her cuddling and cooing. Glancing over to where she'd last seen Ktulu, she awe'd softly and shifted her eyes between the foals and her mate. "Aren't they adorable?" she murmured softly, smiling wistfully at the young ones. Maybe Brisa would allow her to play with them...

Questions.

Kota jolted and sheepishly smiled down at her companion, breaking her normally icy facade out of embarrassment. She had to focus more, if she was to be taken seriously as a herd member. Clearing her throat softly after Destrier had concluded what he wished to say, her own opinion flooded out, prim and concise. "The Basin have proved themselves untrustworthy in the past multiple times. I do not advise an alliance, but peaceful neutrality is something I doubt any here would object to." Especially after being invaded so many times, she snorted internally. Aodaun chided her sharply, and the mare rolled her eyes to herself. She wasn't a nice person, she'd never claimed to be otherwise.

"As for the Asylum, I'm more concerned with the leaders of the herd. I propose Aurelia remain banished, but my ways are far harsher than most. She threatened all of the herd with her stupidity, then had the gall to try and claim the throne. I'm unimpressed, and do not think she should get the respect of a trial if she did not respect us in turn." This time her derisive snort was audible, disgusted with the behavior of the childish mother. Rage flickered dull but insistent in her belly. Mares like her didn't deserve to be mothers.

Especially when mares such as Lakota couldn't be.