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Lakota
The Poisoner Something warm enveloped her heart to see his expectant features, the preparation in each line of his body that spoke of him accepting her traditional form of greeting him. She held back nonetheless, her fear too great when it came to hurting him. The blood itself did not scare her off, for she'd seen him painted in it too many times for her to sleep comfortably at night even years later. Her heart was already exhilarated enough to merely see him before her eyes, to see his sides swell with every life-giving breath that inflated his lungs. It calmed her heart's breakneck pace, even as blood pounded dizzily in her ears with accompanying rage. It nearly drowned out the words that fell from his tongue, the only notifier being her name, her title. The only title she'd ever cared about, far more than what others called her; Poisoner. She could life her life happily if she could just be sorella, sorellina. "Of course I am," she breathed, a little watery with tears she would never admit to. They prickled her eyes with the force of the relief she felt, like an overly expanded balloon in her chest, to see him okay. Alive. The rest she could fix, she just wanted him to be alive. But how could she explain that things were different now? That it was infinitely more painful to see him hurt when he was in Helovia, away from the cruelty of their herd, their father? Lakota had thought he'd finally be safe, be at peace. It was like she had been betrayed, let down in her most fervent, vehement wishes and pleas to both the Gods of their homeland and the Helovian Lords. The mere thought of aggravating his wounds, as she would have in the past by throwing herself up against him, made her feel almost sick. So instead she shook her head, resorted to silence, incapable of further explanation. He drew her away from her despair, her self-hatred, with a single touch to her cheek. Closing her bright eyes, the maiden leaned into the touch, trying to calm the fires that threatened to consume her and all the progress she'd made. He had tried so hard to teach her temperance and forgiveness. Was he disappointed in her, to see what a monster he'd made instead? Because that was all Lakota saw when she gazed upon her reflection. So when he chided her, she responded with venomous defense of him, careless and guiltless hatred for the nameless mare they had battled together for a mere moment. "I can fault her, and I damn well will," she snapped, ears falling half-mast and teeth flashing in little winks, tiny promises of revenge. "I don't give a shit about her, or her herd, or her feelings. I care about you," she emphasized, even still trying to regulate her breathing as it escalated with further emotion. Two words stopped her immediately. Calm yourself. Obediently she sucked in a deep breath, counting to five before releasing it once more. It was a trick he'd taught her, one he forced her to follow the moment she heard those two words from his maw. It had kept her from a thousand different punishments, when they were young. The reflex to obey was still ingrained inside her, and she allowed her heart to slow enough to hear the cadence of his further words. Softer, understanding. "It's different," was whispered, hurt laced in each syllable. "I thought you could finally be safe here. I caused you so much pain when we were foals -" she choked on a whimper and looked away from him, gritting her teeth at her own pitiful display. Her sickening weakness. Helovia had made her soft. "I thought that maybe you could finally get the peace you deserved. I never wanted to see you like this again, fratello," was her final confession, barely a murmur for the weight that she held in her heart as she spoke the words. |
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