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05-08-2013, 11:44 PM
 Her smile makes you wonder where she's been Comfort did not come immediately after Lakota sought out her Chieftess, but she understood without having to ask why Ktulu did not acknowledge her instantly. If she suddenly broke from her tirade to show affection or association of any sort, it would be a sign of weakness and a tendency to be easily swayed. Ktulu was neither of these things, and so Lakota kept herself tucked close to the younger mare in wait. At last she was rewarded, dark muzzle reaching out to hers in greeting. Chocolate and carmine met obsidian, and the soft brush of velvet muzzles had Lakota sighing softly in relief and clearly breathing easier. The relationship she held with her sister was far different from the one Ophelia and Ktulu shared, a bond which she envied. Where the former two had grown up together, with matching days of birth and life in years, Lakota was around the age of two full cycles when Hana had been born. She had raised her, and that had set their relationship into a different realm that Ktulu would sadly not likely be able to understand. For so long she had babied Hana, despite Alleo warning her not to. How could she not? With Ithrim warming the chunk of ice in her chest cavity, Lakota had been helpless against the baby face and happy-go-lucky nature. Having been denied such pleasures, she had practically drowned Hana in all the happiness she could give on her own time. She had been there every time their parents had been ready to deal the beautiful child her first blow, an iron will falling over her emotions as she intervened. So long as there was breath in her lungs, she would protect Hana from the cruelty she and Alleo had grown up with. Yet here she was, heratbreak keeping her from thinking clearly, and she was releasing her baby sister to walk on her own and protective herself for once. Was that why betrayal glinted in those rose-hued orbs? Because Hana had never experienced this, and saw it as Lakota turning her back instead of letting her grow from the encounter? Absorbed in her thoughts, she remained where she was at Ktulu's side. Instinct had replaced the vapid facade upon her visage, as if it were more a habit than anything. She seemed to be off in her own world, yet with an aristocratic aloofness that kept the cool dignity on her features without trying. What broke her away from the land of muse and melancholy was the movement of Ktulu's body, lean muscles rippling as they were put into motion, shadowed dun of her canvas giving off a healthy glow beneath the pale Orangemoon sunlight. Violet irises watched her go, and made an effort to adopt a stronger stance as her Chieftess sank her venomous verbal fangs even deeper into her sister's skin. There was little Kota could do, and even if she was able she doubted action would be taken on her part. Emotions were still tangled and jumbled in her insides, making her feel ill and wrong. Lakota did not handle emotions, she stomped them down and dominated them so that nobody could touch her. Hurt her. Forever the prickly porcupine, and yet somehow the tricky vixen in the shell of her sister's body had flipped the creature onto its back to reveal the sensitive parts. Had sank pearly fangs into her heart, her soul. Lakota had no experience with how to deal with this situation, and with the conflicted feelings that crashed like opposing tidal waves in her hollowed form she doubted that both sides could come together in a mutual agreement that would dictate how to react. The part of her that the Grey knew, the strong and frigid Lakota they had fought with, demanded that Hana be shown through harsh words or mild physical punishment that Kota had had enough of her sass and guilt-tripping technique. To show her that she had to stand on her own, because Lakota couldn't hold the both of them without crumbling. Yet the opposing side was just as strong, and as if in a dream she watched Ktulu snap and hiss at her younger sibling. Whatever she said, the words were muted and slow in her mind. Betrayal and confusion, as well as anger, had all taken up the mantle of her sister's face. Lakota remained silent. Watching her leader walk away was hard, but Lakota gazed back at the mare's crimson orbs with a look of defeated understanding. When she had stuck her neck out for Hana so long ago, she'd promised to handle whatever trouble her sister caused. And here she was, holding true to it. Not only handing out punishment, but left to deal with whatever backlash Hana would serve out alone. No Ktulu, no Aodaun, nobody. With a sharp pang Kota realized that she didn't actually have many people to fall back on or rely on. Ktulu, Thayne...desperately she tried to fill in the list with characters like Phaedra and Rafe. But did she truly know them? Trust them? Phaedra had appealed to her heart, but the flirtatious fae was rather opposing in her sides. Sweet and alluring, and then sharp and conniving. Rafe had been the stallion at her side in the frosted wonderland of the Threshold, quite similar to her in the way they viewed the world and handled annoyances, disruptions, and threats. Did she know him? Of course not, so he too was unable to be counted among those she tentatively labeled her friends. Maybe it was for the best. After all would she have handled being left alone to deal with Hana better if she had others to rely on? You could never rely on others, unless they had been born and raised by your side with your blood shared in their veins. At least, that had been one of Lakota's reminders until this day. Clearly she could not rely on Hana or Alleo, who seemed to flicker in and out of Helovia teasingly. Tiny firefly flickers that drew her desperately onward, only to go nowhere and find nothing. Advancing steps make her draw blank plum eyes to her sister, refusing to let the one window into her soul display what she was feeling now. It was too dangerous. Hana approached slowly, crossing the border tentatively as if believing the thin warrior would chase her blood sibling away should a single hoof land out of place. As Hana bypassed her, Kota let her obsidian lids fall silently to hide her pained gaze. Was she even pained? So many emotions inside, all screaming for attention. How long had it been since she'd even felt so many? And all at once, at that? This was her weakness, yet another chink in her armor that could not be hidden. Though getting to her broken, scarred heart was one of the hardest things in the world, once someone had made themselves at home they held the only weapon that could be used against Lakota. Her own feelings. Alleo had warned her in his quiet, musing way that someday it would be her downfall. That avoiding, killing, stifling, and freezing her emotions would get her nowhere. Leo had always been amazing, balancing neutrality, hatred, and chivalry perfectly within his being. He could kill with no regret, and yet treated those he cared for as if they were made of the most fragile of glasses. Always respectful, always patient and impartial. Kota envied him, because he had not torn away the sensitive parts that she had been fighting to exterminate ever since Ithrim's beautiful dark orange eyes had closed once and for all. Hana must have turned to look at her, or at least stopped. Kota remained still, a silent willow branch that remained rooted in place yet swayed softly in betrayal of how malleable it truly was. Such biting words, what a change from the submissive creature she'd seen stand before Ktulu like a trembling wreck mere moments ago. "A death wish? No, Hana, I have just spared your life. You know not of the power my Chieftess holds. Had I not made a decision for you, for her, you would be suffering beneath her personally." Reaching deep inside she has dredged up the instinctive reflex of shielding herself with collected quietness. Vocals soft as silk, as they always were when she did not purposefully harshen her voice to make others stop assuming she was a normal mare. It is weary, with a slight chill to the words that is hardly noticeable. No doubt Hana would catch it anyways. Though she doesn't see the point in explaining herself, her lips are opening and words are flowing out once more. The air around her feels cold and empty, the blackness that her closed eyelids have caused only doubling the loneliness she felt. Underlined the fact that she was standing in solitude. Why, now, did it matter so much? She had been independent, alone, for many long years. "I am doing you a favor, Hana. Ktulu does not know that you have little experience in fighting, and all members of the Grey must be fit and able fighters. Do you think you could merely heal, and do nothing else in a band of mercenaries?" Dry, defeated laugh left her throat. How hollow she felt, how carved up and misunderstood. Maybe it was best that she was born dark, the ink blot in the purity of their family tree. Perhaps her mother was right in declaring her to be the devil that would never be accepted into their family, spitting it at her in disgust the moment her obsidian coat was seen the moment she was born. Hadn't she proved her point by killing their father, escaping them despite the torture they had inflicted on her to keep her down and out? "Do not worry your pretty little head, sister" and oh, how it hurt her to hiss in such a sibilant way. How angry she was, how wounded, and yet her heart ached with love regardless. And wasn't it obvious? Even as she tried to hiss and spit venomously, her voice wavered and threatened to crack. So strong. Lakota the warrior, the emotionless bitch that kept all others away. And yet she was weak, breakable, by those she loved. She was a fool, and it only hurt worse to know it. If only she had not grown attached, if only she had let Hana find her own legs instead of suffering to protect her. So many If If If's, and yet it did nothing to ease her worries. "Archibald, our General, will count as one of the three instead of an additional spar partner. In the Grey, we are family. Spars are meant to strengthen, teach. They are not meant to severely injure or disfigure, because you do not do that to family, in any way," she stated softly, firmly. The raw aching in her gaze was unveiled with little care. Though the words rang true for the Grey, they were meant for Hana. Where was Ao? She craved to crumple to scarred knees and hold him to her chest, cry into his downy swanlike fur, let the innocent bloodless color crowd her vision in hopes it would drive away the darkness that so rarely appeared and yet always threatened to consume her. Bitter sarcasm hit her ears, and the stonelike mare only allowed a small twitch of dark audits to catch the words. Lakota feared if she so much as twitched a muscle, the iron blanket she had settled over her body to keep herself from shattering would slip away. There would be no movement, no change in stance to let Hana enter her view. Irises remained shielded similarly, in the way that she kept that conjured blanket around herself tightly. She could not see or feel it in this realm, in the present, but she could at least physically shield her eyes when necessary. When had Hana grown so bitter? Didn't she see that Kota was in just as hard of a spot? That she couldn't side with Hana or Ktulu fully? Had she listened to the protective sisterly instincts and leapt to defend her baby sister, Ktulu would have likely brought it down on her head as well, and then she would be of no help to Hana. Plus, forcing Ktu into that situation where Kota must be punished by her wasn't something the slender mistress ever wanted to happen. Yet, if she hadn't even offered an alternative punishment for Hana and had remained silent in total agreement with Ktulu, Hana would have either been banned from the Grey and the Foothills or forced to suffer her punishment beneath Ktulu personally. Kota found herself bitterly doubting that Hana could see the situation so impartially when she was already emotionally involved. It simply wasn't a part of the mind to remove oneself from the situation and analyze it impartially when already tied into it with a bias. Closed lids clenched tighter at the childish, sassy tone with which Hana spoke. Had her lips grown looser while away? Having taken up the half-mother and half-elder sister role in Hana's life, she had been the only other soul aside Alleo that could and would punish her to instill morals and respect into her young mind. Lakota trusted no others to do it, because the both of them had been very careful not to go overboard because they loved her damn it and hurting her, even if it was to teach her a valuable lesson, hurt them too. The tone she spoke in was like a foal back-talking their mother, and the long-buried instinct to sharply correct her for her manner of speaking rose up. It didn't push through. Lakota may be crumbling where she was, insides shattering, but she was still a damn good mask maker. After all she was still standing tall, unmoving, with only the smallest grimace upon her face. And though she had craned her neck after the comment about not hurting family, baring her crushed gaze to Hana, she had shut her eyes once more and refused to allow them to open again. Who knew how Hana would use it? How would she even take it? "It's just how I pictured our charming reunion, Kota." Another deep cut across the tiny bits left in her chest cavity, hardly even enough to be called a heart. You no longer call a vase by its name when it is in fragments on the ground, do you? No, you call it a mess. An irritating mishap that must be dealt with before anyone else sees the awful eyesore. It is no longer a vase, but it is degraded into what that vase was made of: clay, glass, metal shards. So her heart was no longer able to be called by such. No, it was just a fleshy stripped material that beat feebly, constantly pained and yet always softly crying out for someone to pick up the pieces missing somewhere inside and put them back together. Dark lips trembled, though she doubted Hana felt the urge to cry with how cruelly she had snapped the words at her. The moment heat prickled at her eyes, however, she forced the oncoming tears away. She still had some pride left. Like hell she was going to relinquish it now, when it was all that kept her standing. Before words could slide off her tongue, Hana's tone changed into one of badly concealed pain, humiliation, and disappointment. Idly, Lakota wondered if Hana even recalled when they had first been reunited. That had been the 'charming reunion' Hana had clearly expected on this morning. Did she simply not want to remember, if only to give herself an explanation? Speak, speak, you have to speak, she asked you a question! But no, more words followed and soon Lakota was subtly shoving down the lump in her throat in order to speak clearly. When she was finally allowed a place to interject, she didn't even bother keeping the cool, silky, and detached tone employed earlier. No. When she spoke now, her tone was far different. Weak, broken, beaten down and dejected. Lakota accepted this, and it was clear in every syllable. Still, they sounded so pretty and elegant in her voice, and again that strange part of her brain piped up at the entirely wrong moment to wonder if those in Helovia thought she had an accent. "Of course I am, Hana. Why wouldn't I be? For days and days I searched for you, leaving the Grey at hours where I would not be missed. I left, when we were preparing for an invasion that required most of my attention, to try and find you. I worried day and night, all hours of the day..." Choking up she took a few moments to breathe deep and control herself. It wasn't easy, of course. Did Ktulu bare herself in such a way to Ophelia? Were close siblings the exception to such cold walls employed by those like Ktulu and Lakota? "From the moment you were born, I was there to protect you. From our wretched parents, from the violence around us, from the dark world we lived in. Alleo and I were there, in the flesh, completely physical beside you. We could protect you mentally and physically in return. Yet when I was forced to leave, when you two helped me escape after I was tortured for killing that bastard..." Face twisted into a snarl, and out of the blue she realized her eyes had opened. When in the world had that happened? Hatred coated every bit that contained any mention towards their father, filling the syllables with all the venom she could as if they were containers that could convey her emotions. She didn't regret killing her sire, and never would. Killing him was an event she wore proudly like a badge of honor. But then she realized the words that hung on the insides of her lips had yet to be spoken, and the emotions that clung to every shifting sound that composed each word broke the rage that had swelled so suddenly in her chest. So tired was she, in every way she could possibly imagine being weathered and exhausted, the shadowy fae didn't even bother closing her eyes once more. Staring off into a world, a time, that was long past and likely long gone. "I was unable to be there. Every day in exile I worried, wondering if Alleo could keep you safe, if that damn cur that gave us life would turn on you because of my actions. I wasn't there to protect you, and it killed me. Though I would kill that man a thousand times over, and never regret it, I wish I could go back in time and find any other option that kept me where you were." Every word was a diluted poison upon the remains of her soul. Had her heart been eaten through by the magic that curled in a venomous, sinister fashion within her veins? Was there nothing left? Even her words sounded hollow, just as cold and barren as her breast. "Seeing you, finally, a few seasons back nearly crippled me. Upon receiving my quest for the magic I desired, I had to be fed a poisonous plant from one of the racist bastards up north. Every turn, you and Alleo haunted my steps as the drug took effect. I saw you torn up and dying, or even dead. Finding you that day...it was like touching the afterworld and getting a taste of the perfection that lies there. Losing you again..." Facial features twisted in blatant pain, eyes screwing shut once more. Apparently she did have the strength to still do it. Where was her cool facade? Where was her feathered masquerade mask? When had it been removed, and why had she not been informed? Emotions and Lakota mixed about as well as dynamite and a struck match. It simply spelled her own destruction, the tender underbelly that was her weakness. Once she was alone, she could build her walls back up brick by brick, the rough edges and cracked mortar from where they had broken scraping her insides and drawing forth crimson agony. But...here? No. She could not participate in such an intimate, almost ritualistic destruction of her self-esteem with her baby sister near. Could not find the strength once she had reached rock bottom to stubbornly rise again if Hana was there to comfort instead of push, as Lakota's thoughts did. "Losing you again was more than betrayal, Hana. It was more than you spitting in my face after I put myself on the chopping block for you. Do I blame you, for running after mirages that seem to be our loved ones? No, because I did the same in complete desperation, chasing down whispers and rumors only to find nothing. If you truly got lost and could not find your way home...well, regardless of logic, I still felt betrayed." Normally this last little chunk would have been icy, like frozen silk. Had she been conversing with any other living being on this earth, it would have been so. Even she could pull up a temporary composure during times of desperation such as this. "But the betrayal...it could not even come close to the worry, the agony, the uselessness that I felt. I blamed myself. For not looking over you, for not keeping a good enough watch on your person. I told myself that Leo could have done better, that fate was a wicked bitch that hated me if she kept taking and taking my loved ones. So seeing you again today...I felt relief, concern, love. But I cannot endanger the whole of my herd and family for you, nor the other way around. I also cannot ignore the anger, the injustice, the bitterness I felt right after." Only then do Hana's last words register, and a sharp snort escapes her. It is an odd mix between mocking, disbelieving, and uncaring. She wanted Kota to fight her? When she was already whining over having to spar with three strangers? Kota knew her intimately, knew how she reacted to the littlest of things. Her weaknesses, her strengths, her build. Even Hana had to be intelligent enough to know that this deeply rooted, intense knowledge would only aid Lakota. Combined with her experience and skill in comparison to Hana's sheltered life- though, that was partially her fault and partially Leo's- there was simply no doubt over who would win. And with Aodaun and her magic? It was simply unfair, and surely Hana was speaking out of bitterness, for if she wasn't then Lakota would be unable to stop from laughing in her face. A foolish wish, a taunt that the elder female would not rise to bite at. "I try not to be vain, since I don't particularly give a shit if I have good points, but we both know how that would end Hana. Hurting you will not make me feel better." At long last she turned her gaze once more, body following with a fluidity similar to smoke, silent and lithe like a feline slinking after its prey. Though the shattered look in her eyes had not vanished, and she likely appeared years above her age, there was a silent tempest in plain view beneath the shards of her heart Hana had left with her words. Intense, sad, and yet still love laced every feature as if they were snowflakes upon her obsidian coat. "When a child is upset, or hurt, they lash out. It is instinct to chase away any who approach, even if they only intend to help. A child is punished and they scream insults, fling horrible words because they want to hurt the other right back. I am not a child, Hana, surely you must know this by now?" And oh, how old she felt! Still in her prime and yet this one meeting seemed to have aged her ten years. That scorching plum gaze finally drifted away to the horizon once more, and from the shadows caught sight of a flicker of pale fur. Aodaun had returned, but hung on the outskirts warily. Like a sobbing child running to their mum's embrace, she extended her mind towards him until once more they were intertwined in every way. Deep growl emanated from far away, hardly audible, but she heard it loud and clear through their connection. Ao was not one to anger, but the rage that flowed from him right then nearly swept her off her feet, to feel slamming into her own emotions with such intensity. He was furious that in the time he had been away, Lakota had been wrecked emotionally. Young he may be, but the heart of a soldier, a protector, rested in a perfect prison of ribs and sinew in his body. Had he been full grown, he would have charged from protective cover to stand in the dwarfed version of the massive breed he hailed from, a physical barrier between her and the one who had hurt her. Relation held little importance to him. Hana had hurt Lakota in a way Aodaun had never seen or felt before, and that was a grievance he could not forgive. Though he was just a babe he still came, growling and teeth glinting in the pale sunlight overhead, towards the two. Gaze remained on Hana like a dog on guard, and though he brushed and twined lovingly between the dark legs of his princess the love he sent through to his precious did not change the dangerous, wary, and unhappy expression on his sweet face. Slowly Lakota lowered herself to her knees, demeanor changing completely around the puzzle piece that completed her so perfectly. Feeling every wave of adoration, comfort, love, and endless loyalty nearly swept her under into a sobbing mess. She was stronger than that urge, but she still felt it. No longer did she focus on Hana, the world narrowing to just her and her prince. Scarred forelegs pressed to the slightly wet, dewy earth. Aodaun had small twigs and even bits of dead, wet leaves in his long coat from where he'd gone crashing through the undergrowth and dying foliage of the Foothill's version of Orangemoon. Tender underside of her belly twitched and protested at the chill, but nothing would keep her from allowing Ao onto her back where he belonged. Was she spoiling him? Perhaps, and yet she had just witnessed the strength he possessed. The courage and fight she could ask from him, and would be granted. Learning now how to be careful of his claws, and eyes still trained in their darker violet shade on Hana, Aodaun wriggled atop her and lovingly growled and huffed at her. Cold nose pressed endearingly to her shoulder. Standing once more, she sighed and turned her own eyes to where Hana was. In silence she remained, desiring to leave so that she could release all the emotions boiling inside her, her body the teakettle and the whistle about to blow. Anger, distress, abandonment, distrust, longing, unworthiness. Helpless, hopeless love for that precious youth mere strides across from her. Atop her spine, Ao's eyes were a near-perfect mirror of Lakota's as he stared at Hana as well. Though she considered him the innocent one, Aodaun could not mentally create words that she used. But no, the shades of their irises betrayed the roles they would take in the future. Ao was a prince in the eyes of his princess, but he would kill for her, because she was the truly innocent one. Uncaring of the fact he did not know what she was like in her early years, Aodaun was the one to see every vulnerability, sense every hurt twang of her heartstrings. So cold and hard on the outside, and such a shell was nearly impossible to get past, but her protector...her knight in shining armor...he had been allowed one of the few keys to her heart. And once you got past that nearly impenetrable wall...you realized that Lakota was fragile, and could easily be crushed with the simplest of off-hand phrases. So Ao was there to build her up with love and devotion, try and make her stronger for when he could not be there, and ward off those who tried to tear down all the work he had carefully put into her. When he had first opened his eyes to find her sweet face above him on the day they bonded, he had sworn that nobody would hurt her. He had failed, but he would not let this go unpunished.  |
