There are happy memories here.

Aodaun bumps into her and she feels love like warm fingers playing in her head, and she laughs softly, amazed by the winter wonderland all around her. The blizzards had calmed, the ice melted, and she was lulled into a sense of security. If it had just passed over the Eastern reaches towards the West, why would it have reason to return back that way? So she allowed herself this moment of peace, watching the cold clouds of her breath, feeling the cold upon her cheeks, shivering contentedly in the frosty air. It was breathtaking. Thick blankets of pristine snow, untouched as the celebrations go on and on at the entrance of the Sanctuary. At the lands of homes they have returned to. And Lakota?

She is alone again. As it always was, surrounded by snow as the day she had first wandered into Helovia's reaches. It is a new day. A new start. And she wishes she could erase it all, smudge it until it is a blur, return to the moment she had crossed the Threshold into the life she lives now. But through all the pain, of every kind and flavor and shade she has experienced, she would never take back the decision to stay. Head tilts to gaze down at the ice bear at her side, lime orbs calmly staring back, and she knows that she has been blessed. She had suffered so much to earn that blessing, but in the end, did it matter? Days like this, the innocence of the snow that covered the wickedness of Helovia beneath its cool embrace, it reminded her that no amount of sorrow could not be overcome. After all, if the snow had the power to blanket all of Helovia, then she had the power to lift herself from any hole she could possibly fall into.

Aodaun nudges his fuzzy head into her forearm, running into the snow, spraying it up around his sides, barking and leaping around. Inviting her to play. She laughs and runs forth, kicking up the snow all around her, thick and deep and soft in ways strange to her for the wet sensation it brings. It had been seasons ago, when the two of them, newly bonded and beautifully naive, had youthfully played in these same meadows. It was nostalgic, but new memories would always bring forth joy, and together they ran and jumped and rolled together, laughing and barking and growling in a chorus of carelessness. They were finally free from the prisons of the Sanctuary, and their revelry would simply not cease.

Together, they are oblivious in their play, the flurries of snow kicked up around them hiding all possible scents that could have betrayed Arah's presence. They were naive to the fact that they are being watched, and Lakota lets her guard fall into pieces around her, not fearing how others would find her or think of her as she laughed and leaped about like a filly in her first snow. But the joy in both their hearts was intoxicating, flowing over from one to the other through their bond until they could hardly contemplate stopping. Had they the energy and time, they may have never stopped. But it isn't to be, for they have responsibilities. No longer do they govern a land, for she was hardly given the chance at all in the first place, but they must contemplate where they will go. Will they follow Ktulu to the misted reaches of the Edge? Will they even submit to a homeland other than the Foothills? Their play slows with the echo of seriousness in their heads, but it is only a whisper.

Whatever they have, it is shattered into pieces as her name is called, soft and hesitant. It startles them, Lakota whirling about, muscles tensed to attack, only for her side to spasm and clench. She gave a stifled scream and sank to her knees, Aodaun already leaping to support her as the scar tissue seized up, sending ripples of pain through her body. Whining softly he nosed at her face as she breathed heavily through her nose, crystals dancing in front of her face. When the spasm passed- oh, how shameful it was, to be seen like that at all!- she lifted her crown to narrow her eyes distrustfully at the mare she had once adored. "Arah," she spoke, voice elegant and proud as she shakily bolstered herself back up to stand with head high and emotions concealed. Arah deserved nothing better in her eyes. Despite the tremble in her knees she was standing tall and strong, every inch the royalty that still ran in her blood.

"What do you want with me?" It is cold but not cruel, for Lakota knows this game like she knows the pattern of seasons, and she will not crack. Will not fail. Too many wasted loves had walked over her since she had came into Helovia. Her frame was too battered for one more pair, so she'd be damned if she'd lay down to let it happen.

Everything has always been so plainly laid out on Arah's face, it's hard not to see what she's feeling. Unless you were blind, there was no way you could mistake what she was feeling. So the horror, the guilt, on the pale features of her once-friend was more than enough to let the Poisoner know exactly what Arah was already thinking about her sudden collapse. Her own dark face twitched with the lack of desire to show her the true cause of it, not wanting to bare her weakness to the one who had abandoned her, who had caused her so much heartache. But she also hated the crushed look on the vixen's face. Sighing, she moved slowly as Aodaun helped her, turning until the wicked scar upon her side was plain as day to Arah. It was nearly the length of her entire body, curving from right shoulder up to flank and over the side of her spine to disappear. Still pink and white from where Apollo had healed her the best that he could, it was sickening to look at, and Lakota knew exactly how ugly she must be now. Yet another thing she had yet to work through and move past. But her regards towards herself were already staggeringly low as it was. Nothing could really make it worse; she couldn't go any farther down unless she started digging.

"There's no need to feel guilty. Ktulu attacked me as a wraith. When my muscles tighten, sometimes it spasms. The cold makes it hurt. It wasn't you." It was said in a slightly softer tone than the one she'd originally spoken in, if only because she didn't have the heart nor the energy to continue to feel so angry towards the pale fae. What would it accomplish? It wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't reverse all the horrors that had transpired since they had parted ways. It wouldn't keep her from falling in love, from getting her heart broken twelve ways to tallsun. Feeling self-conscious she shuffled back to face the doe, not wanting the hideous thing to be shown, appreciating the fact that Aodaun moved to press against her left side, shielding it with his body.

What she hadn't been expecting was Arah's answer.

Lakota didn't do well with brutal honesty. As much as Ktulu liked to say that she was, when it came to the two of them ending up together- a phase she was tentative to use considering what had transpired in the Sanctuary- she had been anything but. So her ears flopped awkwardly to the sides, head wishing to turn away but too scared to show weakness. Perhaps too proud. Her broken lyrics made her heart throb painfully in her chest, and as she looked down to stare at the snow below, Lakota took the chance to take a few deep breaths of her own. Everything? What was she to say to such a request, a silent plea for forgiveness? She'd forgiven so many others only to have the same knife stabbed in her back, an innocent look and a sheepish smile her only tokens of 'I told you so'.

Looking askance she tried to collect her thoughts, tried to see Arah and not Apollo and Ktulu, not Ithrim or Alleo or Rasta. This was Arah. She couldn't bring her ties to the table and use them to judge the snowy vixen, it was unfair to a level Lakota wasn't used to crossing. She could be a bitch on many playing fields, but that was one she tried not to waltz upon too often. It never did her any good.

Tears were like diamonds slipping off her cheeks, and Lakota wanted to smooth them away, but she didn't want the pain that would come with it. Instead, she dropped her violet gaze to stare down at the subtle shake in her legs, wishing she were stronger. Shoulders were tight and sturdy, a falsehood, but to all others a sign of solidarity. All of it a front, but one that had protected her since she was born into this wretched world. Did Arah even claim to know the Poisoner well enough to see past it? Even Ktulu was fooled by it at times. Alleo was the only one she really had left. The only one who could see through ever brick wall and concrete slab she desperately created to keep out all those who wished to find the soft parts of her heart. A princess was supposed to be cold, aloof, restrained. Distant. But she'd never been the model royalty, either.

Arah's voice was so thick with emotion that Lakota was almost sick with herself when hers came out merely sad and defeated. "I don't know what all I have to give anymore. I've had so much taken, I fear I have nothing left to offer you. Nothing but a broken princess with a sour attitude and enough problems to last the Gods two lifetimes of work." It's a pathetic attempt at a joke, more bitter than anything as it leaves her tongue, making her feel slightly ill with every word she dares to speak.

Anger is hot on Arah's caricature, and it's so odd to her that Lakota momentarily wonders what it was she did to make her so furious. But then Aodaun nudges himself gently against her scar, and understanding flourishes through her. It's a huge display, for Lakota, that Arah would be so furious with Ktulu for harming her. Face warm she kicks idly at the snow with one black hoof, a little overwhelmed with the intensity of Arah's emotions. She had mentioned Ktulu's wraith phase, hadn't she? So why was she still so upset? It touched her nonetheless, illogical as it may seem to her. It reminded her that maybe she wasn't as alone as she believed, that there were still others out there who would defend her to their dying breath. Unlikely that it would ever stop being strange to her, but at least they existed. How had she garnered so many dedicated friends? She was hardly anything special, it was simply astounding to her. Did they all have a preference for short, angry mares with a knack for poisoning others gleefully? If so, they really needed to get some help.

Delicately she shrugged, careful not to pull at her side too much. "Arah, there is nothing I would want fixed. I wouldn't be...well I wouldn't be me. Sometimes better isn't really 'better', you understand?" Her words were soft, the same defeated tone she held previously, but there was a sardonic smile on her face. Maybe it was hope, or just an acceptance that life was going to keep gleefully kicking her down into the dirt repeatedly. One way or another, it seemed she was able to accept that her own brokenness wasn't going to simply disappear. She doubted she even wanted it to. It was her little idiosyncrasy, and she hated and loved it equally. It made being honest so much easier, made her friends that much more faithful, because they knew exactly what they were getting into when they became so important to her.

"Maybe nothing is too strong of a word, but it isn't much. I don't know how strong I can be to offer you my friendship, but for now, I'm not sure what else I can offer you." A weak smile pulled at her lips, hopeful but flighty, as if ready to turn and run the moment it appeared Arah would hurt her again. Her heart caught in her throat before she could, and she gave a pathetic choking whimper as the news was placed gently upon her. So...Arah had found love. She'd...she'd had foals. Lakota felt vaguely dizzy and she clenched her eyes shut, her breathing fluttering as if wanting to cry. The tears pricking her eyes certainly seemed to fit. Why couldn't she just shut off her ears? Because Arah kept going on, and she didn't want to hear a single word, not now or ever. Lakota sharply moved her eyes away, so brief was their eye contact, and snarled. She hoped Arah got the wrong impression, thought she was angry or disgusted instead of hurt and lonely like she felt on the inside.

"Congratulations," she managed to spit out, somewhat strangled but at the very least mostly sincere. Couldn't look at her anymore. Didn't think she even wanted to if she could. Passionless, she scoffed, staring off to the side almost wistfully at the snow her and Aodaun had upturned. "Don't. There's no need. I don't want it." The Poisoner feared if she elaborated it would only hurt her worse, and she had enough on her shoulders already. Lakota refused to let Arah see her break down or falter. Few held that privilege, and with each new season their numbers dropped.

When the doe's silver crown begins to shake back and forth, Lakota's violet eyes slowly began to narrow, already anticipating the answer about to fall forth from Arah's pale lips. The tears that thickened her voice made Lakota feel awkward, eyes shifting about indecisively, both compelled to comfort her and so used to not that she was caught in a motionless stump. Instead, Lakota slowly drew her gaze back as Arah's left hers, watching the other fae stare passively at the ground before offering a submissive nod of understanding. The Poisoner was not so weak as to succumb to losing her memories, to doom herself to making the same mistakes later on in life. Surely Arah understood that, and Lakota suspected she did by the nodding of her crown. But clearly, Lakota had not said the right answer, by how Arah was not only behaving but by what she'd said moments before. Was there even a right answer? Or was Lakota stuck in a catch twenty two with this mare she had loved? They'd hurt each other, neither were blameless, but there was still a level of affection in Lakota's breast that would always be reserved for the ivory dame.

Though she admitted to having startled at the sudden movement, Lakota quieted, reaching in tandem to rub their cheeks together in a soft motion that reminded her of better, simpler days. Days they'd spent together, in fact. The silver femme withdrew, speaking ridiculous words that had Lakota's brows arching higher and higher. What the heck was she saying? And why? So stunned by the idiocy- Lakota loved her, truly, but she wouldn't hold back- of her words, the Poisoner made no motion to keep her at her side. Aodaun mentally noted the approaching storm, and Lakota whispered a tendril of gratitude in response, watching as Arah began to walk away. Finally she found her voice and she stepped forward, crossing over the tracks Arah had left in the snow when their cheeks had met, eyes rolling at the dismissive dove.

Her voice called out; sharp, an order. "Quit the dramatics, Arah. Get your ass back over here, you think I'll let you leave that easily?" She snorted, a ghost of white surrounding her nostrils, and she arched a brow at the femme. Crass, perhaps, but Lakota never denied being so. "Don't be so ridiculous. You're not getting rid of me like that, and certainly not in a storm like this. Now come." Turning, she flicked her plume idly and turned her head to look over her shoulder, waiting impatiently for Arah to heed her words before letting her head fall back to natural position. There was a sheltered coven not far, Lakota had perused these lands often enough to know precisely where, and it would keep them relatively sheltered for the next few hours of the storm.