There is no pain in her body, merely pain in her heart.
It is a shriveled, well-guarded thing, the beating vessel in her chest. Far too many times has it been wounded, and so it is blocked by ice and steel. And yet, somehow, Ktulu and Ophelia had cracked open a tiny seam that every Grey member had wriggled into. Seeing her leader cradled by the vibrant green of the blades around her, unmoving, had struck a chord deep within that resonated emotions she had not felt in years. Those emotions had driven her into a furious attack against Ariadne. Everything was fuzzy with anger and despair. Was Ktulu still okay? But Ophelia was showing no signs of mourning, and she hoped that was a good sign. Ophelia was harder to read, Lakota did not know her as well merely through lack of presence in her life. So she threw herself at the mare who smelled still of the Threshold. Was she truly fighting for a herd she did not belong to? Had she harmed Ktulu in the name of a family she was not a part of? Anger bloomed rapidly in her breast as her neck connected fiercely with Ariadne's chin, sure to bruise the both of them. Her body collided with the other mare's just as quickly, and yet there was no retaliation other than words that could not hurt her. Violet slivers were all that could be seen through the glare of her eyes, colder than the most untamed corner of the Steppe. The ensuing collisions with Ariadne's body normally would have made her feel the tiniest bit of guilt for her being subjected to so many foes at once. But she could not dredge up the emotion, watching silently. It may have been an unfair fight, one she did not take pride in, but she would never regret the pain Ariadne went through. She deserved all that and more for so much as misplacing a single hair on Ktulu's body.
Slowly she surveyed the battlefield.
Was it even a battlefield? Sure, Lakota had participated in raids, pillages. Takeovers that had been just as one sided if not more so. All this with an illusionary crown. Even then she had not taken pride in it. They were thieves, and it made her sick with rage at the leader of this god forsaken wasteland. Ktulu and Ophelia had led them with the best intentions, wanting them to have a home and the protection of a herdland. They had fought side by side with their family, protecting them. Yet the king of the land they had invaded had not even poked his head into the fight. Lakota wished to drag him in front of all of the Foothills, beat him down and spit on his face and let the wild have him. He did not deserve a crown, a title. He did not deserve the land she now stood on. A leader that abandoned their herd was worse than trash. Jackal did not even deserve to live, simply because he had been too cowardly to be there and protect the warriors that had rushed to bleed upon the ground he reigned over. They had suffered for him, and he had fled.
Ophelia's voice kept her from attacking once more. Normally, Lakota would have never leapt back into the fray against someone in the condition Ariadne was in. But rage and love were intertwined within her heart at that moment, and the rage was born from an emotion so precious to her that she cared little for the life of the mare. Obsidian ears flickered uneasily as she backed down, obeying her leader. It was hard to resist killing the mare, but her magic soon calmed itself within her. She had good control over it, but her emotions sometimes made it spiral out of her control. When Ophelia spoke, everyone listened. It was a power her leader had always had, one which Lakota had been privy to many times both in her lurking and in her direct encounters. While she spoke, Lakota slowly moved away from the trio that had taken on Ariadne with her.
Aodaun appeared beside her, weaving between her legs to comfort the inner turmoil she felt as she approached the still body in the grass. Lakota feared for what she would find, unsure if Ktulu was alright. Ophelia's words were taken in despite her distraction, always respectful of either twin. The first breath Lakota saw Ktulu take in made her own shudder out in a half-sob of relief. She had not failed her completely. In the future, she would rectify her mistake, never let her mistress out from under her watchful gaze. Ao was clearly distressed by her jumbled emotions, and slowly Lakota knelt in the grass. It wasn't often she let her companion ride upon her back, for he always ended up clawing her up or nearly slipping off. But today she needed his comfort, his boundless love. Slowly he clambered up, the white of her spine connecting with the similar color of his body. Her legs ached both when she knelt and when she stood again, Aodaun growling softly in her ears his love. That was when she took guard over Ktulu, uncaring of the two warriors left in the equation. Nobody would get past the poisoner without either killing her or being killed.
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WC: 900
Damage Taken: Sprained left leg from avoiding Verenia. Scraped left foreleg from Ariadne. Small bite and a few missing hairs from Ariadne. Bruised neck and shoulder from Ariadne.
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Invasion Round Four :: Closing Defense
