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.