| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
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So the invasion was over as quickly as it had began. Artemis could not help but feel very lost in the time it took for her to trudge her way with the others back toward the Foothills. It seemed only yesterday that she had been taken in by the Grey, and she had already shed blood for them. Heck, she had been a member for what? Only a few days prior to the war beginning. It had been a hectic time for the mare, and one that she both enjoyed and deeply disliked. Her mind was a mismatch of confused emotions and feelings she did not quite understand. Her mother alone had raised her and trained her to defend herself, and taught her that the weak must be defended - for though she never told her daughter her story, Artemis could only assume she had been a victim of her own herd - yet the draft mare had found herself fighting an inexperienced filly who wanted only to defend her home. A home Artemis had been close to joining. She groaned, shaking her broad skull. No time to dwell in it, she thought, with a soft snort. No, no time for that at all.
Slowly, she made her way home following the trail of horses as they retreated. Home was an odd word, and one she did not fully understand. This was 'home' now, but it did not feel it. Maybe because she had spent more time fighting and wandering around than actually meeting any part of her new 'family'. She would need to change that, she decided, but the mare was nervous. How could she speak to these horses? She was no good at that sort of stuff. She only ever came across as grumpy or angry. They would likely hate her, she thought dismally.
Limping, she glanced toward her knee wounds with a groan. One was battered and bruised, whilst the other was torn by angry teeth. Her neck, too, had a deep bite wound around which dried blood was marring her snowy pelt. Slight cuts and deep bruises marked her rib cage but the mare was mostly intact. Half of that was due only to the inexperience of her opponent, and her size. She would not scar badly, but walking was painful on her battered knee.
She decided, after much internal deliberation, that she would seek Apollo. She knew not of his healing magic, but she did know his name. He had brought her to this land, and he alone was a face she recognized. Maybe he could help her feel more apart of this strange land, and help her get over her distrust of strangers. Or maybe she could screw up and embarrass herself. It was worth a shot, either way. Beside, he was a spy, not a fighter. He would likely not mock her for her wounds. The mare was unsure of if Ktulu and the other warriors would respect her for her fighting, or shun her for her opponent (granted, she didn't exactly pick the filly herself). Stopping somewhat center of the herd lands, she glanced outward to the bodies she could just about make out from the gloom. "Apollo?" She called out as loudly as she would dare, nervous yet too proud to admit it.
OOC - Anyone is free to join just ask first<3
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@[Apollo]
Apollo the Merciful Posts: 251
| Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 11 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Zola :: Black Cat :: None
Sparrow |
A P O L L O
And how can you say that your truth is better than ours?
Shoulder to shoulder, now brother, we carry no arms He had been by himself, lost in useless musings when he had heard the pale warrior's call. Apollo's head tilted upright, nostrils flaring, peering through the minimal lighting to see just who had summoned him. A few pieces of grass hung from his lips, and as he took the first step forward, he finished chewing and swallowed. Who? The voice was familiar, yes, but it wasn't until he spotted the pale female that recognition floated in his honeyed gaze.
It was Artemis.
Embarassment flooded his veins, but the overo pushed the feelings aside. Artemis had been sent to the invasion, to fight for the Grey to uphold their end of the contract with the Basin. He was pleased to see that she had arrived home safely. Approaching her, his eyes surveyed the warrior's frame, taking in her battered knees, her cuts and bruises and bite marks... Guilt flooded him. How long had she been a member of their family? Not long at all... And yet she had gone to war with a brave face, shed blood for their family, souls that she barely knew... It was an honor for him to know such a warrior, to call her 'sister'.
"Artemis?" He asked softly, tilting his nose towards her, his eyes soft and sympathetic, "Are you well? I'm pleased to see you've returned home safely, but... Well, if I may say, you look rather worse for wear."
Despite the darkness that surrounded them and the magic that had been sucked dry from the land, it had only been recently that Apollo had felt something swell within his body. It was barely noticeable at first, a gradual feeling of familiarity, that something was right again... And it had taken a dream of a mystic stag in the Deep Forest to remind him just what those feelings were. His magic, granted to him by the mystic stag, had been returned. How? He didn't know, and honestly didn't plan on questioning it. If anything, the timing could not have been perfect enough.
"Are you in pain? I used to be the Medic for the Grey... If you'd like, I could try and aide you?"
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I Just Want You To Know Who I Am
Please Tag Apollo in All Posts!
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
09-09-2013, 09:18 AM
(This post was last modified: 09-23-2013, 02:25 AM by Artemis.)
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She felt her knees tremble, though if it was the wind or the pains doing, she had no idea. The air billowed around her, slapping her braid against the cuts upon her neck and forcing the great mare to shudder. She was used to pain. Her mother ad not been the gentle creature regaled in children's stories. No, her mother had been a warrior, and had been a strict teacher out of necessity to survive. The land the mare came from was as harsh and as volatile as the horses who lived there. She was used to punishment. That was not what bothered her, now.
The image of the pain-filled yet determined gaze of the filly was ingrained into her mind. The single white tear stain that blemished her otherwise cobalt pelt was vivid in her memories and she doubted it would leave her quickly. She had hurt the child; beaten her until the filly simply could not fight anymore. That was not honorable. Artemis was no fighter for justice. That child - no, that warrior - was trying to protect her home. Artemis could only respect that, and knowing that she had scarred and battered a mere filly was what hurt the grey mare the most.
She gritted her teeth, letting out a rumble of anger at her own idiocity. She knew she shouldn't let pity get in her way. This was home now, even if it did not feel like it. This was what she fought for. Sentiment and childish ideals should not stop her. yet it had. She could have damaged the child much more, yet she had stopped her attacks short; taken more damage than she should have allowed. She was a failure, despite her victory. She would not blame the Grey for sending her back where she came from. She was weak, and she could feel it.
Artemis? She glanced up, eyes vacant as the body of a stallion materialized through the darkness. She had half expected him not to answer her meek call. He looked upon her with sympathy, his gaze soft, yet she saw only pity. She turned away for a moment, but her pride was already wounded. There was no point in trying to hide it. She turned back, hesitantly, as she stood and shifted nervously from one bruised leg to the wounded one. It hurt no matter which she bore weight upon. His words sounded kind enough, though she wasn't sure how to respond. She managed a meek smile and shrugged her shoulders. "I have been in worse shape and recovered." She said simply.
It was true enough, though it meant weeks of rest - something the wanderer was not good at. Are you in pain? He asked. Why did he sounds so damned kind, anyway? Shouldn't she be ridiculed for being maimed by a child? Instead he offered to help her - to heal her. The mare was never before witnessed magic, for in her harsh land magic was a rare gift that few possessed, and her mother certainly was no mage. She frowned, glancing up toward his muzzle with caution. She was apprehensive, yet her wounds burned and the harsh kisses of the wind further fueled the fire her blood was bringing to the surface. Reluctantly, she nodded silently, eyes falling once again to the earth. Was this weakness too? To rid herself of pain that bore deservedly? She stood, patient and quiet, for some time, allowing him to do what he had to do. It was several minutes before she spoke up; "I ...Hope I served your people well, lord." She murmured, head falling an inch, eyes unfocused. She sighed softly, closing her orbs for a moment. She felt so useless and alone. If she was at least somewhat useful, at least then she would have purpose. If she did not then, why did she survive? Why did she not die in her mothers place?
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@[Apollo] if you are too busy we can just make this a quick thread as I'm going to need Apolko to heal her again once the companion drop ends! XD
Apollo the Merciful Posts: 251
| Outcast atk: 5.0 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.3 :: 11 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Zola :: Black Cat :: None
Sparrow |
A P O L L O
And how can you say that your truth is better than ours?
Shoulder to shoulder, now brother, we carry no arms There was something... Strange, about Artemis, Apollo decided. Not really strange, per se... But different. Yes, different, that was the word. He had not truly grown close to the pale, braided warrior during their time together within the Foothills, but the overo felt as though he had still understood a bit of her character. A noble warrior Artemis had seemed, and now, after returning from a failure of a battle, well... Apollo couldn't help but wonder if something had happened to unnerve her so.
"Please," Apollo whispered, his vocals kind, understanding, "I am no lord to you. A brother, perhaps, but no more. I do not deserve a title as formal as 'lord.'" There was also shame in his voice, but not for the failed battle that Artemis had taken part in. It was for the fact that they had fought in the first place. A peaceful soul Apollo was, and to think that they had fought in this invasion alongside the Basin, well... It churned his insides. The Grey had made a contract with the Basin to promise warriors in exchange for their own, and now that things were changing and the Grey was no more, well... Apollo felt as though he suffered alone, hated for a crime he didn't truly commit.
Still, Chief now or no, the black and white overo knew he had a duty to oversee. Lowering his head, Apollo placed the crystalline point of his horn towards the dirt and sucked in a deep breath. Hopefully this would work. Pressing downwards, the point of his horn began to dig and prod at the soil beneath them, covering the sharp dagger with ample amounts of dirt before the stallion lifted his head once more. Around them, the air seemed to shift and change, humidity taking hold. The breeze, once crisp in the throng of Birdsong, now smelled of fresh rain, and Apollo sucked in a deep breath.
"Hold still, Artemis... I'll do what I can for you." With that, Apollo tipped his crown forward and gently began placing his horn against the wounds that he could see with great care. The torn flesh that he touched would knit itself back together, healed as if it had never been there. Strained muscles and swollen joints would subside, the painful fires of those injuries cooled as if doused with ice water. The Merciful was meticulous, surveying the pale warrior's frame with experienced eyes as he went about healing her. A loyal soul, Artemis was, and Apollo wanted to do what he could for her.
With the last of what he hoped were her wounds, Apollo sucked in a breath, feeling slightly drained from the large use of magic. It had been a very long time since he had healed someone. Stepping back and head lowered, neckline paralell with his body, the overo spoke. "... How are you feeling now, Artemis?"
ooc: Sei, I'm so, so sorry that this took so long. ;-;
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I Just Want You To Know Who I Am
Please Tag Apollo in All Posts!
| Hidden Account |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 4 Buff: NOVICE |
| Sei |
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Please, I am no lord to you, his kindly word muttered as she turned her head away, uncertain. In her mind, he was a lord, able to peer down upon his people from a pedestal. Brother was a term for those on even footing, for those she fought shoulder to shoulder with and nothing more than that. To suggest she refer to him as such suggested that the pair were equals, but Artemis knew that was no the case. it would never be the case. Not for this vagabond.
Stallions always had the one upon upon the lesser gender, their brutality in her homeland renowned and true. Ferocious, mares were prizes to be won, yet one barbarian had escaped that ate, carrying in her belly a daughter who would one day leave that place. So it came to be that Artemis grew as strong and as brave as the stallions who taunted her home land with their majesty, yet even so she still felt like she was missing something. Like something inside was not worthy of being anything more than a trophy. Perhaps her battle had simply stung her, wounding her pride and her honor, or maybe it had simply brought to the surface doubts that already lingered within her?
Still, she nodded slowly at his words. She could not speak, for what would she say? That she was unworthy of calling him brother? That she was weak, and his thoughts of her worth were untrue?
Quiet eyes lingered upon the earth as the painted stags horn lowered, reaching the ground with a touch as gentle as a kiss. Slowly, the kiss turned into a stung, and the sting into a bite as his horn dug into the sort dirt and as his horn was unsheathed the air around them seemed to dance, its scent as light and as sweet as the scent of early morning dew. Her eyes widened slightly, her ears pushing backwards in slight anticipation at the strange magic, but her legs were firm and un-moving as she forced herself to accept the light touched of Apollo's horn. Anyone who knew the mare knew that touch did not come easily to her, and the idea of allowing his sharp instrument to gently prod her wounds was not one she could easily accept.
Closing her eyes and bracing herself, she felt the crystalline horn gently touch her wounded side. Wincing slightly at the initial touch, the mare felt the pain ebbing slowly away, draining from the wound. The wounds tingled, et it was not an overly unpleasant feeling and slowly, cautiously, the mare opened her eyes. He had reached her wounded knee and she watched in stunned silence as the wound knitted together before her eyes, the pins and needle sensation fading into nothing as his horn withdrew.
The way he circled and scrutinized her body caused her to shift uncomfortably. It was true that she was not the perfect beauty, nor as slender as most of the mare that called these lands home. Her scarred bodice was more like rough, un-sculptured stone; battered, weather worn and bulky, nothing like the statuesque dancers that she often saw parading Helovia.
Soon enough, his eyes pulled away from her body, seemingly satisfied that he had not missed any cut, no matter how small. He was meticulous with his healing and as the magic subsided he sucked in a sharp breath. The mare took a step forwards, body acting on its own as a flash of concern graced her features. Yet he was still speaking of her pains, despite the strength the magic must had taken from him and she stopped in her tracks, freezing into place for a moment before she glanced sideways toward her own body. Carefully, she moved each leg one by one, stretching forwards tentatively and placing weight upon each sturdy pillar. The deep wound in her neck no longer throbbed with agony, soothed as if snow laden cloth was chilling the fire within. She felt a smile tease the corners of her lips. "Much better." She responded simple.
Much better in body, yes. But in mind? As she turned back toward him, she thought again of Laila. Had she a healer to tend to her wounds? Here Artemis stood, healthy as ever, victory taken easily from the fillies grasp, whilst the youngster bled and suffered. The smile faded from her lips as she glanced toward the lords muzzle. May I confess something to you, Apollo? She spoke gently, quietly, as if hoping he would somehow not hear her words and simply leave her alone to her thoughts. She glanced again to the ground. The earth around her seemed duller somehow, even under the lack of the sunlight. "The warrior I battled. She was inexperienced. A child." She whispered, squeezing her eyes shut. The badger marked tear stain was vivid in her mind. "There was no honor in that fight. No honor in any of it. The Grey... It troubles me. I do not wish to hurt the innocent again." Her words were true, and despite the shame she no doubt should feel for her weakness, she felt relieved. If the Grey wished her to fight the weak, then so be it. She would leave. If he told her she must fight who she was told to fight, then it would be the end of her life here.
Yet he was the Merciful. He called himself 'brother'. Would he simply call her coward and turn her away? She doubted it, and that in itself relieved her the most.
For the vagabond had no where, and no one, else to turn to.
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Since this took place before she knew Ktulu left and whatnot, this was how Arty was feeling at the time <3
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