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11-01-2012, 05:31 PM
Death. It pained the mare to know that as a result of her decision, her determination, her longing for a home had caused a death in the ranks of one of her allies. Movement at the edge of the battlefield drew the mare's sights. A sense of drain, more than an energy loss, overcame her, though it was not aimed at her. She moved as swiftly as she could, lacerations dripping blood down her sides, bruises and wounds slowing her motion to an agonisingly slow dawdle. A steely grey steed, with a horn, retreats from the scene, and with his departure the sense of drain upon her very soul also ceases. It takes minutes for her to even begin recovering, but she is only standing over the hybrid gelding that has fallen, so as her energy leaks back into her, it is spent almost immediately on the depressed sadness that takes over her demeanour as she realises the effects her actions have had on others. "Thank you, winged friend." Akaith lands beside her bowed head as she murmurs to the fallen gelding, Jaydan. She allowed tear to drip from her eyelid, and fall to the ground beside the now dead, crumpled body. The DragonHeart then lifted her crown, her face a mask of seriousness, respect and sadness. "Kri," the tones are gentle, but subtly urgent. His body would draw predators to her new home, a prospect Mirage did not welcome and so longed to resolve. But the customs of the Throat could be different to her own thoughts of disposing the body; and she would respect them. "I am so sorry," she knew her words would have little effect on the situation, she blamed herself directly for the fall of this unknown warrior, and yet she had to say them, for they were true. |
