Elsa,

Feel lucky for what you have, when you have it. Happily ever after doesn’t mean happy forever.

In the midst of her rear, she had managed to knock a hoof down the front side of Tembovu’s horn. It made the most grotesque of noises. The sound grated against the inside of her head, and she groaned. Like her emotions, like her life, the brief moment of pride was burst by the pain of her wounds. Closing her eyes, she attempted to feign off another bought of dizziness as she fell to the ground. Her hooves landed with a solid thud, sending a grunt forth from her chest. Elsa winced, feeling the wound on her head burning. It was like all of the demons were clawing at her head, desperately wanting pry themselves from her skull. She cried out in pain, lurching forward and away from Tembovu. She didn’t know what his intentions were, but either way she was not going to stand still and let her ego be bruised anymore. She didn’t even know that Tembovu had planned on continuing the spar.

As she ran past his body she came to a sliding halt a few meters behind him. She turned to face him, trying not to cry. ”Get out of my head!” She cried, lifting her wings to cover her face. It didn’t matter that she was bleeding, it didn’t matter that her wing hurt- it was the fact that she had no control over herself. Her body was always in fight or flight mode, and in either one, she was miserable. Edgar, not being able to bear the separation practically fell from his perch, swooping down to land on her head. Carefully he separated her wings, reaching his own down to apply a small jab of freezing cold magic to numb the pain above her eye. Elsa was shaking in fear of herself, and Edgar tried to do his best to calm her. Yet, like most of his attempts, it was futile and instead his bonded was left standing there shaking like a tree. Edgar glanced between the two new monarchs, obviously concerned for Elsa’s wellbeing.

This was so much more than sadness and anger. It was like her history was stuck on repeat. It just kept running through her head over and over again. She didn’t want this to happen, but she had no control. The Present Elsa was fighting to be seen and to breathe, while the Past one was trying to suffocate Present and bury it beneath its wrath. After a few more moments of shaking and ragged breathing, she let her wings fall to her sides, both glancing the ground with a dull thud. All she wanted to do was have a normal spar. To feel pain and to feel invigorated by it; she didn’t want to continue being afraid of trying. ”I’m so sorry,” she finally managed to murmur. With her head hung low she was utterly defeated. It didn’t matter what the outcome was of this little spar because she already lost to herself. Suffering a loss to Tembovu couldn’t be much worse. But who was she sorry for? Herself or Tembovu?

"talk"
[513 Words || 3/3 Attacks || 1/1 Defense]
[Woop! Thanks so much Smitty! <3]