The mare. She had just dropped. The edge of the cliff. It had just crumbled under her feet. Res had shot backwards, clenching on tightly to the piece of a branch with edges sharp enough to be a makeshift dagger. She wasn't going to stumble off the cliff. It was then, really, that she truly began to feel the effects of the talons upon her skin. The way that it throbbed with each beat of her heart. The way that it caused her movements to be short, and stiff. The slice cutting against her wither and into her shoulder, almost making each step a limp.

Tears were flooding her eyes again. But, whether it was from the pain that was now coursing through her veins, the emotional state she was in from Rowan's death, or her pleas to see Quil again she did not know. She just knew she suddenly felt alone. Each step was hindered, and her audit was spinning ferociously trying to take in every sound and place exactly where it was. But, of course, she couldn't accomplish that. So, she simply hoped that the stirred up mists would provide her enough shelter to trek deeper into the woods and away from where all the sparring was. She couldn't fight anymore. The injury was beginning to bother her. But that didn't matter. She just needed to keep moving.

Keep moving? Hah. The world didn't agree with that. Her right flint knocks into a huge branch that had fallen (probably from some storm in the past, but Res couldn't be sure) and with her weak muscles unable to balance on her left side the mare stumbles forward, collapsing on her face before allowing the rest of her frame to drop down as well. Completely shrouded in the mists she lay there, frame trembling uncontrollably as she shifted the wood dagger in her mouth. Please don't let anything come for me. Please... she begged to the Gods. I can't fight. I know it.

It took her a few moments, and definitely a few attempts, before she managed to figure out how to bear her weight on her front end to rock her way back to all fours. And then, she continued to struggle to move forward. Away from the noise. That's all that she wanted. The noise to stop. To find peace. The mists were no longer peaceful. They were dangerous. They were lurking with venom. They were lurking with the venom of the other herd coming to attack her home. And it sickened her. It sickened her so much.

And goodness. She should really put some herbs on her wound. But, the Healer's meeting she had gone to was way too hazy in her skull. Herbs. She needed herbs. But she couldn't remember what kind - what they looked like. She could grab the wrong one and kill herself. No. She had to live to push Rowan's memory on further. So, she was going to have to wait until she could find Smoke. If that was even possible.

Finally, she found herself falling into a section of overly protected trees. A mini grove of sorts, though she doubted it was intentional. Still, she shrugged her way in, letting out a tiny yelp of pain through clenched teeth as the bark scratched up against her still bleeding wound. It was difficult to enter, unless you were small, or you came from above. And even then it was more of a hassle than something someone would randomly do. So, she assumed she would be safe for the time being. The mists were less evident here, and she could see the ground (even if it was a little foggy). And, when she looked up the tree's towered way up, blocking out much of the moon in their canopy of branches.

The tears. They wouldn't stop falling. She sobbed, her voice muffled because of the dagger-like branch located in her maw. She wouldn't let go of it. It was her safety net for the moment. It was the only thing she could think of to protect her. Sticks and stones. Sticks and stones. That's all that she had. She was alone. She was broken. And everyone she cared about was off fighting to make sure that the Edge kept their home. What was she doing? She barely did any damage to one of the attackers, and then she ran off to hide in this random little grove of trees! She was useless, again. She was becoming the exact thing she didn't want to become. She had forgotten the little bit of healing she had started to learn before the invasion because of the shock and stress. And she was useless. Useless, laying there with a branch in her mouth for her to use like a horn to slice and dice anyone who approached.

She was scared. She was stressed. She was definitely depressed. She wasn't herself. She wasn't in a right frame of mind. And (in her raging mind) she was completely and totally alone.

850 words
Poor baby definitely having a mental breakdown from the pain and experience.
@[Kahlua] && @[Quilyan] && anyone else if they wanna join after these two

Res's body was trembling. Her head resting up against her forelegs as her jaw clenched hard onto the branch. Teeth mars were beginning to form on it, but unless she dropped it she wouldn't know that. Her audit was pinned against her cranium, attempting to block out the world and forget everything that was around her. The sobbing doesn't stop. The trembling doesn't stop. All she can think about is that an invasion is occurring. All she can think about is that she might lose her home again. All she can think about is this deep, throbbing pain in her shoulder.

There is a noise that brings her back, just a little, but it doesn't do much to make her begin to look around or to stand back up. A dull thud of hooves landing, and then her name. Cautiously. As if they weren't certain. My lady. Instantly, she recalled the name and her body was instantly attempting to stand up. But the pain was too much, and so her form stayed low to the ground and shaking with fear. Quil stopped, standing there in shock. Her name, firmly but with a hint of a soothing note to it along with confusion and anger. She winced, golden orbs peering up at him through fogged and hazy, tear bothered eyesight. She was alright now? It's over? He thought? He started to move forward, careful to keep his wings tight to his side just like old times. His little companion is chirping from his withers.

And then, another horse came in. A painted one. She could had sworn she had seen the mare before but she couldn't place her name or anything else along those lines. The familiar scent of the Edge and the mists, though, did offer her a little bit more comfort. There was a waver in her voice as she said that it was okay before her eyes lit up with happiness. Tournament? What tournament? Instantly, she struggled to pull her way to her feet, doing so shakily and stuffing the branch into the knot of her tail for safe keeping - incase someone else jumped out of the shadows and mists. "There was no tournament, ma'am." Res spoke, eyeing the black and white mare as she was granted a name. "Kahlua. The Edge is being invaded, by the Grey. And what smelled like unicorns from the North, and the Frozen Arch. There is no 'tournament' that you speak of. It is a full out war." Her voice was strained. Her body struggling to keep standing. Broken chords filled the air as she limped toward Quil. Instantly, she turned so that she was facing the same direction as him before shoving her nose under his wing and attempting to burrow her frame under the comfort of his soft downy feathers. Hollow. Weak. Soft as clouds. Kaj's words remained in her skull, and with the wound still bleeding and pain in fear in her mind all that she wanted was to be shielded from the world.

"God. Quil. It was so horrible. She had wings. She was from the Grey. She had a bird. And I couldn't get any hits in. The only damage I managed to do was by throwing a branch at her glowing form. She was taunting me. She said we were going to lose. That I knew what had happened last time. I don't want to lose our new home. I can't..." She whispered, her voice shattering and causing her to stumble uncertainly over her words. "God. Quil. I can't lose anyone else..."

607 words
@[Quilyan] && @[Kahlua]

"Cool your head, Aaron." The deep voice rumbles out, and Kaj shoulders past a branch in his way to cast his sharp azure gaze upon Aaron in hardened disapproval. Gone is the kindly WingLeader they know. They are at war, and though he was never met by the cowardly invaders, he is tense and caught in the spirit of battle regardless. The harsh mannerisms of the Glazier, however, is not something he approves of at all. "That is your herd sister you speak to. Mind your tone. She is not our enemy, nor yours." His voice is steel, commanding. He has the rank, the scars to prove he has earned it, and he will not let Aaron speak so harshly to one so innocent. Same level they may be, but Kaj was born in a militaristic world, and Aaron is a child in comparison to his age. With his constant desertion and re-joining between the Edge and Foothills, the simple-minded warrior did not approve of his actions very often. True Kahlua may be wrong and misinformed, but she is young, and clearly meant no harm by her comment. Resplendence cowering in their midst was also a factor, and considering he did not approve of harsh words in the presence of anybody undeserving, least of all a lady, he was far from amused. He was far larger than Aaron, but he towered naturally, and did not do so on purpose. Had he wanted to, he could have, but his words alone would have to do. No Glazier on his tier would behave in such a way.

Without removing his eyes from Aaron's, his lips parted and his chest rumbled with his thunderously deep voice. "Speak to them you will not. Do not act foolishly, youngling, do you wish to compromise the safety of your herd, your family, your sisters? All for pride? I did not fight for your sister's honor so that you could sweep her home from beneath her." Voice rose only slightly, though it had been cool and low the entire time previously. Snorting and shaking his head in disappointment and frustration towards his herd brother, he gave a small smile to Kahlua, Resplendence, and Quilyan. Moving away from Aaron and his companion, he swung his wing slowly in front of his chest, bowing slightly to Kahlua and Quilyan. "My name is Kaj, I am one of the WingLeaders of the World's Edge. Zusje, I do not believe I am aware of the titles of your friends. Is this your beloved, the one you spoke of when we first met?" His head tilted curiously, pale wheat and snowy locks fell handsomely over his blues, eyes moving naturally from Resplendence to Quilyan and back.

"Kahlua, I believe I heard your name was? Yes, Resplendence speaks true. The Aurora Basin and the Windtossed Foothills joined in alliance against us and invaded. Many of our brethren still fight. You are not at fault for being unaware, the Edge is large, and many of our soldiers were out on patrol or acting on orders outside of our borders, and may not even know at this very hour." He gave her a gentle smile, expression betraying his solid nature and easy spirit, but the way he held himself as a soldier, braced and prepared for anything, gave away his experience and solidarity. Though, he supposed it also could have been obvious with how he had scolded Aaron.

Pain. That's all she feels. But. She's going to pull through it. Her original haze has passed. She knows she must look for herbs. It's all too much, really, but she clearly remembers the one herb, it's dull colour, and the way the leaves almost curl, that she should take for some form of pain medication. She would need to find that and then she would need to go to Smoke. Her wound was concerning her. It was deep, but she knew it hadn't cut any arteries. No arteries, but maybe the muscle. That was the only logical explanation for her limping so profoundly after something that had only seemed to be a scratch. The rest of the scrapes on her form were minor, barely digging into the flesh, and she had some bruises along her ribs and haunches. Of course, those were minor and didn't worry her as much as this shoulder.

And, as Kahlua fell into the scene Quil lurched forward, his body growing taller and wider as if to protect her. She instantly shuffled backwards, panic at the sudden raising of the large wings that were still a massive source of fear for the tiny claybank mare. As soon as he realized she was from their herd, though, he pulled back, lowering his defensive stance and Res instantly crawled up to rest beneath his wing. He lifted it so that she could slide under it easier without knocking the gash on her left side with his wing. His maw touching hers, then rubbing up against her poll and searching her shoulders for any other injuries.

That was when another one appeared. A larger brute, spattered with paint and a hellhound. Res's quite cries only heard by Quil himself. The painted brute chastising the mare who was dawned Kahlua. And then, he wanted to go to the Grey and speak to them. "Do you have a death wish..." Res choked out just as Kaj appeared as well.

Instantly, he placed the painted brute with a name which Res stored away in her memory. But, his tone did pull her even closer to Quil. The angst that was in this group. The anger. The threatening tones. She wanted them gone. She had already reached around and snagged her dagger back from her tail as she eyed the group with uncertainty, feeling Zarina as she curled up in her banner like it was a fluffed up pillow. It calmed her a little, but not enough to do anything to drop the dagger back in her maw.

She shuffled her feet, watching as Kaj bowed before them and explained his position before asking for the titles of her friends. She shifted her weight a little, uncertainly putting the branch-dagger in her tail before she allowed her voice to come out. Panic, fear, uncertainty flooded her weakened voice but it did ring out. "Y-yes. This is he..." And then Kaj moved to making Kahlua feel better about not understanding what was going on. Quil offered his name, which Res had been toopanicked to think of doing, before she glanced back toward the others in this clearing.

Kahlua was speaking. She had fought as well. She would need the herbs too. "Kahlua, we will search for some herbs to deal with the pain soon. You must be feeling something from that gash in your thigh..." Concerned pooled from her maw as she looked to the other mare who seemed to act a little younger than she looked. Kahlua spoke Res's name but didn't seem to manage to finish her sentence. "Hey Sugar"

Res shuffled her feet backwards. Her entire body tensing as she winced, pulling her shoulder muscle a bit too hard in the process of shrinking her frame. Tears flooded her vision as she let out a small sob. "Not again. Not the wings again. I can't fight her... She can't still be looking for me..." She choked out before burying her head against Quil's shoulder in an attempt to hide her tears which were staining her face. Her entire frame was trembling. Every inch of her was shaking in panic. She was weak now. She was torn apart. Her endurance was just about depleted. All she wanted to do was rest and find those herbs. Rest. Herbs. Find Smoke. Make sure that the cut to her shoulder had not tore the compact muscle. But no. Now she was stuck in a clearing with the winged, glittering creature looking for her.

And then, Aaron's voice was booming out. Calling out to the mare who had fought her. "No! Why would you call her here?!" She cried, panic obviously taking over every inch of her being. "She might have left if you'd just stayed quiet!" She wasn't meaning to be demeaning, she wasn't meaning to be taking a position over herself. It was simple. Her mind was only in one place - if she was found by that mare again the talons and the wings would definitely kill her.

But didn't she deserve death...

865 words
Panic attacks = Res's life.
@[Kaj]

Aaron clearly does not like him, but Kaj is not intimidated nor sorry for his behavior. Why should he be, after all? He had spoken honestly, and if Aaron did not respect their equal levels and Kaj's experience and age, then it was his loss and Mirage's problem, for Kaj would not let the youngling charge stupidly into the borders of the Foothills, right into the paws of the Grey. Cooly he observed the smaller male, an old and resigned look upon his features. "You speak truth, child. It is for Mirage to decide, as we are not allies and in fact enemies status-wise. But Aaron, I ask you; had I been foalhood friends with one of the Basin soldiers, perhaps one who was not racist and merely a part of the herd, would you find it wise for me to go charging thoughtlessly in and demand an explanation? After all, I am in enemy territory. They have fought against me, hate my kind, even if my foalhood friend does not. Clearly these friends of yours do not value those bonds as highly as you may, they attacked your home, your family, did they not?" Kaj's disapproving tones settled into worn and weary ones, a soft sigh escaping. He is old, today. He feels the weight of so much upon his strong shoulders, and it is starting to become too much with all the events unfolding at once. "I have a dear friend within those borders too. If you truly wish to go, I advise you to seek the council of our Dragonheart, and call for them outside the borders, singularly. If you wish to I will come with, I desire to see my friend, he was not at the invasion from what I could see, but safety lies within numbers." Crown shook and another sigh crossed his lips, pale azures faded and glossy with the weight of knowledge and responsibility. Let the child be angry at him, despise him. In time, he too would be broken and burned, and he would grow stronger and harder to make up for it. Kaj had, at least. Most souls could not handle the tear and torture of the world, so they patched themselves up and braced their shoulders, strengthened, and prayed for a little more wisdom. It was not his place any longer. Let Aaron speak to the Dragonheart, let him approach Mirage with the desire to check upon his friends. Kaj would speak no more upon the subject, lines heavy and thick on his face despite still being well within his prime. Youth still clung within his body, his bones. Instead he turns to his darling sister, disparaged by the war she has so bravely fought, curled beneath the feathered boughs of her darling. She has grown, today. Kaj only wishes it had not been brought about in such a tragic way. The eyes of her mate fall upon him, and Kaj offers a comely smile. He seems to recognize his behavior, something Kaj has yet to encounter, and already he is beginning to like this protective, clearly loving steed that guards his little sister so well. "A fine name, Quilyan. Your beloved has been a great companion of mine, I fondly consider her a sister; I hope you and I can grow close similarly, knightly Quilyan." The warmth returns to his features, vivid pale blues sparkling, lips quirking in an honest, encouraging smile. Resplendence trusts this brute enough to huddle beneath the appendage she feared so much, and so Kaj will trust him the same. Inside, he had a feeling the stag would prove him true, cement the faith Kaj had already gifted him.

Kahlua seemed shaken by the turmoil of the meeting, which had been riddled with angst since formation. Despairing, when one considered how tenuous their harmony was with the invasion already. She spoke not to him, instead to Quilyan, who murmured quietly to Kaj in a manner he was happily surprised to behold. Was this stag like him, and those of his home? If so, he would be the one Helovian who did not baffle and astound the pale golden giant. Kindly he smiled, head bobbing shortly in approval. Lately he has been speaking so much, so unlike him. Words were not his strong point, as an action based brute, and yet he spoke with such eloquence one would not believe such. It made him feel odd, for he was not normally in the company of ones so talkative. In his chest he ached, longed for Ink. Oh how he missed his mute companion, the youth that he had taken under his wing, the one that had accepted him, given him the symbol of the lion to forever rest inscribed in the smudge of his art across Kaj's canvas. Ink was one of the few who understood. In order to make others understand, he had to speak so very much, and it wasn't something the aureate angel had grown used to. Not yet. Though with how much he was doing already, it was likely within a season or two he would adjust to that level.

Then he heard it, a sound not usually prevalent within the Edge.

Wing beats.

Invasion still heavy on his mind, Kaj looked to the skies, handsome visage hard and cold as a feminine voice rang out. Mocking, almost euphoric or hysteric, manic. Clearly she did not know where they were, and his boughs rose from his sides to spread slowly, silently, across the expanse around him. He would not alert her by letting the air shift too loudly. Not that it mattered much, for moments later Aaron returned her call, and only then did Kaj see the pure horror and panic upon his little sister's sweet face. No time for words to comfort Kahlua, to question Aaron. Quilyan was the only other bewinged being, but Kaj's eyes turned to hard slivers of aquamarine and he positioned himself face to face with the painted lad. "You keep her safe, Quilyan." Love for Resplendence, anger at the intruder, and a silent plea accompanied his words, making it come out like an order, though it was one he knew Quilyan would have no trouble keeping. Spinning upon his haunches he lifted his front end off the ground, leaping forth in a running start and beating the wind with his wings. Branches crushed against his massive muscled canvas, unnoticed. A snarl twisted his features. He knew these skies, these treetops, far better than the wicked maiden that called out in such a hideously sweet tone. Bursting out of the canvas of twigs still struggling to bud with life, he hovered heavily like a hummingbird drinking nectar from a flower. Muscles strained at this action, hindquarters dropped low and loose, and slight sweat touched his coat, but the heavy pound of his wings was a threatening sound, a dangerous warning. Baby blues caught sight of the sparkling siren, for how could he not see her in this darkness, lit only by the patron of their land? From his throat came a sound, primal and strong, used in times before cognitive behavior changed them all. A scream, a challenge, a lion's roar into the night meant for the ears of his slighter prey. No words were needed in that moment. The lion had emerged from the calm surface of his behavior, teeth bared in threat and tail whipping, claws desperate to sink into the canvas of that which had burned him. In a single motion he dropped his wings in a mighty shove and headed straight towards the bright, sparkling beacon. "LEAVE!" The mighty lion roared, massive hooves curled and aimed for her, mighty wings and giant frame diving for her. She was tiny in comparison, a mouse in the paws of more than a mere housecat. He may be slower, but he was just as agile from his Andalusian blood, and his blows would shake her bones like an earthquake. She would not threaten his beloved sister and her darling. She would not intrude upon his homeland, clearly sweaty and scraped from a fight, seeking more blood.

Kaj bared his teeth in the pale light she and the moon exuded, glinting like the fangs of the mighty African predator his dear friend had heralded him as. Fight beside me, Ink. Let me protect the ones I love, in the way I was unable to protect you. Help me, help me keep her away from the family you let me join, keep her from harming the ones you and I love so dearly and served so loyally. Fight or flight, impact or dodge, Kaj was not letting this fake temptress out of his sight or far from his reach. He would never touch earth again, fly until his muscles gave out and his wings crumpled like a mistreated origami crane, if it meant his brethren were safe from her claws. For in his blood rushed the waters of the ocean's end, and in his chest his heart pounded out the rhythm of the waves upon the cliffs, and his wings stirred the mists that shrouded the home he had bled and suffered for. Their blood was more precious than his. They had crowned him, loved him, believed in him. He was their WingLeader. Crimson would fall from his body for them and not a single drop would be missed. He would offer himself for slaughter, torture, anything within the gates of hell and psychotic scheming if it ensured the health of the people that had given him their shoulders and warmth. The Edge lives in us all. You are forever a part of it. Forever ingrained, remembered. Let her come. Let her kill him, should she prove herself able. With his last breath he would only profess his love for his people, and die with a bloody smile upon his features.

--
Notes: So sorry for the wait!
WC: 1,784