"I don't know" she said with a shrug, smiling. "It's just the way that I am, I was always like this..."

Sometimes it was a blessing, other times closer to a curse. It was the same with her temperament; stubbornness could be good, independence something to pride herself in - until it went too far, until the high held neck grew too stiff and she no longer could remember how to accept - or ask for - help without feeling lessened by it. Less strong, less able, less... free. As though by admitting weakness she was clipping her own wings, condemning herself to remain in that water-logged ditch to drown in her own inabilities. Chained down, crippled, useless.

Erthë grimaced as she skidded back down the brink in a cascade of snow, mud and splashing water, more from annoyance over the failure than the sharp twinge in her leg. She was used to abusing that, so accustomed to gritting her teeth and sucking it up that it had become second nature. It was so much harder to accept Sacre's gentle concern, his eagerness to come to her aid. Though she was grateful it also rankled her that she should need it at all, that she couldn't just shrug and smile and tell him she would handle it herself. The pounding throb in the shattered cannon told her in no uncertain terms that being stubborn now could cost her more than wounded pride, that more failures like this one might damage her even more permanently than before.

At least, she comforted herself, she wasn't quite as clumsy as the kind idiot who set out to save her, only to fall on his own ass. She bit her lip so that the laughter wouldn't escape, willing away the amusement she felt at the sight of his sheepish expression. It was almost cute - not something she had expected from this tall-dark-and-handsome prime sample of a stud.

Appearances really were deceiving sometimes, weren't they.  

"Alright" she said instead, pressing the words past unwilling lips as the fox-boy took place behind her, ready to save the day, night and girl in one fell swoop. "Go!"

It was a good thing she needed to focus on the task at hand. Struggling up the slope on three legs with a guy shoving at her ass was neither easy nor elegant, no matter how she looked at it. 'Follow the fox' he'd said, and Erthë really tried her best to do that; in a bustling mess of slipping cloves and flapping wings she heaved herself up, nearly slipped back again but - thanks to the support from behind, gods damn him - she was finally able to get herself over the edge and up on solid ground.

Staggering forward a few paces to leave room for Sacre to get up as well, Erthë stopped and stood there for a while, legs trembling and with her chest heaving from the effort. Looking down over herself after a long, quiet minute she realized what a state she was in; splattered with mud and water, ice already freezing in her tail and the curly feathering around her hooves, the hair even more disheveled and weighed down by snow than usual. Embarrassed, she felt heat rise up to her face and glanced sneakily back over her shoulder, hoping in vain that the guy wouldn't notice, wondering why she suddenly concerned herself with appearances - she never did usually - and desperately hoping that he would turn out to be busy, in a hurry to disappear somewhere.

Or perhaps the Earth God would have mercy on her for once, and let the ground open up to swallow her? Then again, maybe that was hoping a bit much... miracles had never favored her before so why start now.

ERTHË

I think of love but let it pass
It       feels       like         fire    
but it won't last