the Rift


[OPEN] after all this time

Lakota the Poisoner Posts: 278
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 15.1hh :: 7 Years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Aodaun :: Polar Bear :: Terrorize Brit
#1
Lakota
The Poisoner


Bright eyes watched the pitiful spurts of mist that collected around her ankles with a dismissive, blank stare. Her magic had been blocked ever since the Goddess' battle, and while she could have restored it with a simple grumbled, insincere apology, Lakota had never deigned to give the deity that. It shocked her that Ktulu had subjected herself to such groveling, wondered why these creatures around her relied so heavily upon their magic and their weapons. She had struck life from the mortal plane with the simple blow of her own hooves, with a body too thin and bones still weak with youth. It had stripped her of her magic, but nothing could strike the title that lingered like a shadow at the end of her name. The Poisoner. She did not need magic to know how to kill a grown stallion with a well-placed herb. And yet in the eyes of her herd she was useless. Without magic she was nothing, and Lakota did not cope well with uselessness. 

She stood on the creaking ice of the waterfall's frozen surface, staring idly down past the murky white depths to where the water still churned threateningly beneath. Aodaun sat a few paces away, watching her with worried lime eyes. He knew how to distribute his weight upon the fragile surface, how to spread the black of his pads and ease his considerable weight onto firmer sections of ice. Even if he were to fall through he would be relatively unbothered, the cold would not pierce him as it would his beloved mistress.

A soft whine of a noise escaped his odd vocals. 

Please, come off the ice amato, he begged, so uncharacteristic of the rather subvocal creature. Lakota cast her eyes for a second to where he stood carefully apart from her, lest he send her into the depths himself with the force of his own weight. Lakota popped her hoof off the ice and struck it squarely, eyes locked on her bonded to watch the wince that trickled through the thickness of his fur. "I'm not going to fall in." She didn't extrapolate upon the topic, not providing any evidence as to why she wouldn't, but to her it didn't matter. Death was a certainty, the only mystery of it coming from the timing of it all. And while it would break her heart to know she left her son shattered and motherless...

Ktulu left us already. It's only a matter of time before Murtagh recognizes my excuses. The cruel taunt of her own voice in her head made her clench her teeth and stare back into the rushing depths of the water encased in ice beneath her. "It wouldn't matter anyways." She was useless after all. Couldn't keep her mate at her side, nor her son. Much less her brother, who had disappeared well before the frost set in, when she would have expected his wordless departure. She threw her heartstrings like lassos at the few loved souls around her, and yet when she tried to reach for them in her moments of need, she found them slack and empty. Nobody cared to be tied to someone like her, and she couldn't fault them for that. Lakota embodied her poisons after all. It was only self-preservation to turn tail and run before the cancer of her existence set in.

Chunga-Stock


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