A scream breaks her patrol, one she'd just started, and her head jerks up so quickly it actually hurts a little. Heart pounding instinctively at the sound, she whirls upon her heels and focuses on the reverberations, the echoes of the cry for help aiding her in pinpointing where it came from. With barely a second of hesitation she's sprinting towards the unknown voice that called out for her. Lakota didn't know if it was necessarily her they called for, but she wasn't going to wait around and put someone's life on the line just because she didn't know the answer to that question. The woods around her became a half-distinguishable blur of green and grey, brown and blood of dying autumn. Aodaun is hot on her heels, surging forward ahead of her when she urges him on in her head. The polar bear had larger step than she, even in his dwarfed form, and his ancestors were used to this pace of hunting and distant traveling.
The scent of blood drove the ice prince onward, as if it were the seals his kind hunted on the ices of the north. Lime eyes snapped between the trunks of the trees, searching for the three that had called out for his mistress so plaintively. It wasn't hard to find them with the blood and noise to lead him, and he transports what he sees to the eyes of his bonded. Internally he feels her fear for the child, the wary nature of her emotions shooting through her to him. Why are two World's Edge adults past the borders, and why are they huddling around the broken frame of the Foothills mare? Though they were the ones to cry out for help, Lakota fears a trick, perhaps an ambush.
Aodaun obeys her fears without a real command, snarling and snapping as he moves towards Parelia, standing over her protectively and eyeing the Edge members warily. Lakota lifts her muzzle and calls out despite her panting, not wanting them to attack her prince for fear he was trying to harm her herd sister. Huffing softly when she appeared in the small clearing, her eyes fell on the two intruders, and the medic goes about her business efficiently. It's habit by now.
"Move back!" she orders, striding towards her downed sister with purpose. She kneels quickly, displacing Aodaun, who stalks in circles around the pair, eyeing Miykael and Brisa with clear distrust and interest. Lakota presses herself to the side of the other Hills mare, drawing in her breath slow and strong, simultaneously drawing from the earth. The power surges into her muscles, flowing through her veins and into Parelia's body where they connect. Lakota's brows were drawn in concentration and effort, feeling the healing skin and reforging bones as if they were in and on her own body. It wasn't a comforting sensation, nor one she always enjoyed, but it let her know that she was doing her job.
By the time she pulls away, Parelia's ribs will be tender but healed together, if brindle. Her skin will be made anew, but pinkened, not quite scar-worthy but close. Her wing was the hardest to work on, such a delicate thing, and a limb Lakota didn't have of her own. It was foreign to her, but essentially it was the same as any mix between cartilage and bone, and after a bit of focusing on it she'd patched it up rather tremendously, she thought, for her first try.
Sighing softly in relief she leaned back upon her knees. Aodaun came to her side swiftly, leaning his shoulder beneath her and helping her to her hooves. Her eyes turn to pin on Brisa, then Miykael. They are nameless to her, or at least, Miykael is. Brisa she knows, from when she'd trespassed last time with a child wishing to possibly join the Hills. "You are trespassing, I hope you know? But you came to the aid of my sister, and you called for me. For now, we are on equal terms. My name is Lakota, head medic and poisoner of the Foothills. You are Brisa, if I remember correctly from our last meeting?" She's tired, voice soft and weary, eyes flickering unsurely between the two of them. It would be difficult to fight them off normally, but after using her energy to heal Parelia, it would be nearly impossible, and she didn't like those odds.
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