To war, they cry, and she watches them go with her heart breaking. She cannot fight with them today. In her mind, she remembers when she was but a child watching Alleo go off to war, returning bloody and quiet. Every time she would wrap him up in her grasp, as if he were the foal and she the older sibling, and they would merely lay there together and she would whisper into his ears how much she loved him while she shakily placed things upon his skin, patching his wounds, using knowledge he and their granddam had passed onto her. After that, ever since she was old enough to go, she had fought with all her might with no care for her own health, so long as it meant she could keep him from hurting...she would break every bone in her body a thousand times if it meant he didn't receive a single scrape. Now, she was placed in that same scenario, and anxiety gripped her chest and squeezed, and suddenly she was gasping for air. Archibald. Phaedra. Rafe. Oh Gods, Hana! They are gone, but she cannot quell the shaking in her limbs. She should be there damn it! She should be taking those blows, bleeding that crimson substance, not them! Damn it, didn't they understand that her life was worth less?! Why didn't they send her?! She wouldn't be missed if her life was ended! Her soul was screaming at Archibald and Ktulu for ordering her to stay. Phaedra had daughters, damn it! Hana was still but a child, with no experience, and so much left for her in the future! Archibald had Circe, his brothers! Tears stabbed at the back of her eyes, but she would not let them fall. She could only wait for them to return.
The borders were re-walked at least a thousand times, and her legs were exhausted, but she wouldn't, couldn't, stop. Aodaun was ordered away from her side to do the same, refusing to let their battles be in vain. She had blocked him from her mind, for multiple reasons, and they had wandered for what seemed to be hours, eyes sharp and aware of any intruders that would wish to attack while they were short on warriors. And finally, finally, she heard the call.
Weary, but recognizable. Archibald. She was not as close to their General- Gods, she wasn't close to hardly anybody in her beloved herd- but she worried for him regardless. It was not meant for her, it was for all, but she knew, somehow, that he required her. That they needed her. Sharply she called for her bonded, and they swirled upon their heels simultaneously and together fled towards the warrior's call. Swinging her muzzle to the air she sang out back to her General, promising her swift arrival. Long ebony legs danced across the emerald expanses, hooves barely kissing the terra firma before lifting in flight once more. Lean and athletic, she blessed her genes as she drew upon her speed, trees nought but an umber blur as she sprinted past them. Slim sides huffed with each breath, and she lunged through the foliage until, finally, Archibald's form met her gaze. Slowing sharply, she let her breathing slow and calm, Ao charging from her left to meet her in mere moments. "How many wounded, Archibald?" Are the first words to fall from her lips, for there is no time, no time, no time. Business first, always. They may speak of failure and battle later. Now, she trembles inside as she recalls the reconnection of the Earth Lord, the shiver of magic that had captured her insides, and she blesses him. Thank you, thank you for coming when I need you the most.
Swiftly she circles the much larger stallion, violet gaze sweeping over his body almost intimately, taking in every injury. Bruised, scraped, bleeding, and she categorized every single one. Her muzzle reached out to press against the bruise that most concerned her, and her mind flickered to the action; extends the hip, retracts the limb and supports outward rotation, will make movement extremely difficult. Expertly she continued, withdrawing her touch. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes at the thought that Archibald would hate her touching him, but she was doing so from a medical standpoint, and was brief and unfeeling in those moments. She pressed her muzzle to his chest as she circled back around, violets shuttered by long ebony lashes as she took in a deep breath. Inside of her, long-missing magic tingled, and began to flow from the earth she stood upon throughout her veins, exiting through the point where she was touching Archibald. The chest was the best place to touch, it would pass through all the important organs, which would grasp the magic and spread it naturally to the places she did not target. In her mind, little red areas appeared, and she directed the flow to those areas. Healing, soothing, knitting. It took a lot longer to fix the deep bruising of his gluteal muscle than she'd expected, but it was extremely important that the large draft be able to actually move, walk.
When she withdrew, she was quick to reopen her eyes, and though it had sapped her energy he had not been gravely injured, so she was ready to begin healing the others. Ao had gone to look at Loretta while Lakota had been circling Archibald, careful to keep his distance, and nudged his princess quietly. Little one injured, he murmured in her head. Her crown turned to the bitch, and she awkwardly stooped to her knees, forelegs first and the rest of her body following. "Tell her to be still, please, Archibald. She must trust me for a few moments. I must heal her." Her voice was controlled, experienced, her eyes looking deep into Loretta's, trying to inspire understanding. Only when she was sure it was okay, she lightly pressed her lips to the space between the dog's ears, eyes closing once more, and those same red images appeared, telling her where the pain was. From her knees it started once more, knitting the holes in her face caused by the draconic companion she'd attacked, stopping the bleeding and knitting the skin back together, the depth of the wounds shrinking to near nothingness. She did this as quickly and efficiently as she could, knowing from rumor and viewing Loretta during herd meetings that she was not the kindest or most tolerant.
Rocking back onto her hooves when she was finished, she turned to look at Archibald, and though her gaze was steady and intelligent, there was a slight draw to her brow that betrayed her worry, her passion and loyalty. "What can you tell me, General?" Quietly she spoke this, words meant only for him. Some things may be withheld from the other Grey members, but she wanted to know what his thoughts and conclusions were about the battle. Kept her distance, not wanting to crowd him, but the serious stillness of her features was a clear sign that Lakota was worried, maybe even scared, that her brethren, her brothers and sisters in arms, were gravely injured.
Straightening, the moment passed, and her form was placed into a militaristic stance, reporting cooly, collected. "I have been patrolling. No outsiders have attempted to cross our borders. By my knowledge, we are all safe and accounted for, General." One of the few she respected completely, Archibald deserved this summary, for Ktulu had not gone off to fight, and could be told the news somewhat later as she had been within the borders and may already know what Lakota had spoken. Aodaun grunted softly in affirmation, sitting at her side, head tall and stance proud, deep mulberry eyes focused on Archibald as well.
Please let them be safe.
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