Anger felt so much better than sadness. If only she could scream out her grief the way she screamed at Rikyn, perhaps this whole mess wouldn't have happened in the first place. But she couldn't, and it happened, and in her wound up state the girl stopped using her head and raised her weapon, and brought reality crashing down over her ears in the form of a raging beast.

The second arrow missed where the first one had struck true, and before she had time to process the fact that Rikyn had turned and was charging towards her, he filled up her whole field of vision. Shimmering bay beneath which rippled well-honed muscles, horn that glistened with gold and frost and ambient sunlight and all the rage of a rampaging demon. Erthë backed on pure instinct, or tried to but her legs wouldn't move. Her body screamed at her to get out of the way but it didn't work, and she had no idea why.

"No... no no NO STOP!"

He angled the lethal weapon towards her side and it was all she could do to watch as the razor-sharp edge cut through the air and buried deep into her body. White hot agony washed over her and tore a scream from her throat, because there was no swallowing this when she was so unprepared, so shocked, so numb...

Whatever it was that kept her from moving her body was broken by the pain, and in a shuddering motion Erthë flung herself to the side, away from Rikyn and the pain, fear rising to overthrow every other emotion she could have felt. She would never admit it aloud but he was right. She was too confident, too arrogant in her belief that everything would be alright. Though she had always thought herself wiser and more experienced than everyone else her age, she still carried that same sense of immortality that every youth seemed to possess, and she still hadn't learned her lesson. Her mother had died because of it. The relationship with her father was damaged possibly beyond repair for the sake of it. And now, now she might die because of it.

The problem was that she had never taken Rikyn seriously. Though they had argued, yelled at one another and played word games over ugly glares, he had never truly threatened her before. And the girl in her confidence had taken it as respect, as a sign of equality, but... it really hadn't been anything of the sort, had it? All he had seen was a child, a cripple and a freak - mutant? What did he mean by that, she had no idea what he was talking about! - and he was spilling her blood as though it meant nothing, as though they were nothing, had never been teetering on the brink of something more than dislike.

Hadn't they almost been friends, that day in the Rotunda - and just now, before she ruined it? Or had she just imagined it all, hungry as she was for something, anything,

anyone

to fill the hole in her heart with?

Even as she struggled to remain standing on legs that were no longer numb but aching, burning, stabbing her with needles of agony, Erthë reached for her bow again, fumbled and caught the hovering weapon between her teeth. Fumbling and clumsy she tried to turn and aim at the same time, tried to hurry before Rikyn could stab her again, before she was incapacitated, brought down, dead. Blood pulsed from the wound beneath the wing and stained the feathers crimson, the scent thick and heady and nauseating, enough to make her shudder and wince with every little movement.  

Still she leaned back and pulled the string taught, and in a motion both swift and sure - she had practiced a lot since that day when the Sun God threw it at the feet of her dying parent - she fired a fourth arrow towards Rikyn, aiming at his chest this time.

This time, she didn't stick around to see how the arrow would land. Even as the arrow left the sight the filly turned and began to run, staggering and stumbling as light and dark battled for supremacy before her eyes. Flapping the wings was the most horribly painful thing she had ever done but by some miracle the stab had missed the tendons and she was able to get herself up into the air, up and up and out of reach, hopefully before her nemesis could do more damage.

Red splattered onto the ground like red rain in her wake, but she didn't cry this time. Fear carried her south as quickly as she could move, towards the sea and the sand and the safety of a desert island no earth-bound soul could easily reach. Allies, friends, guards...

Maybe she would be safe in the Throat. Maybe he couldn't reach her there.

Please. If the Lord of Light was capable of mercy, he might spare her.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking