I AM IRON AND I FORGE MYSELF

Civilians! Wessex rolls her eyes whilst the tender-hearted woman chokes grief into her thick neck. Ah, but then a softer part of her relents, and wants to comfort her with quiet ’there, there’ - except that they’re in the midst of a battle (of sorts), and is there really time for such comforts? Probably not. So she is thankful that her questions seem to keep Tiamat from getting too embroiled in her emotions, and instead, sends the two of them into action.

Except for the teeny, tiny issue that Wessex has yet to meet Hotaru or Erebos, and therefore cannot tell Tia to leave, while she looks for them. But now, the soldier has a chance to do what she is fairly good at - guarding and protecting. Tiamat stumbles forward, further into the melee, and Wessex is at her side. She is not as agile as the warmblooded unicorn, but she is practiced in keeping a wide area of focus, and manages to stay by her as they weave around others. While Tiamat calls out their names, Wessex looks for reactions from any others - but they are all either involved in their own problems, or do not know where the Basin’s leaders are.

Suddenly, her companion sees one of them and lunges forward, excitedly, and she is too far ahead, and the mists in this area too thick, and Wessex is on the wrong side of her. As the ivory blur sneaks in an attack, Wessex too, surges forward. She is too late, too improperly positioned to take the hit (as she will later criticize herself for, though there was no way of knowing from which direction danger would come). The claw rakes forward an up, and had Wessex been in the lead, she might be the one now half on the ground. Instead, she is the one bowing to her knees after the gasping mare, giving her gentle (yet firm) instructions as one would a child.

“Breathe, Tiamat. Breathe. Lean against me.” She offers her mottled shoulder once more as a resting place, and tries to encourage her patient (it’s ironic, almost) to keep moving with a little white lie. “Erebos is going to meet us back at the Basin, but we have to go first. So up and at ‘em.” On the count of three, Wessex attempts to guide the injured healer to her hooves, and set a course for her - no, their - valley home. She couldn’t tell if Tiamat was badly injured, but it was clear she was surprised and potentially in shock, and if so, it was best treated off the battlefield.

Wessex, herself, had been carried out of battles by comrades, and vice versa. There is no shame in it - only a practicality that ensures they will live to fight another day, and not take their fellow soldiers down with them.

wessex