[PRP] The Night is Dark & Full of Terrors (Inside)

[xo maho]

Calixte almost protested when Bedwyr insisted on going with her, but thought better of it. She would need someone to watch her back, and who better than the giant Unicorn who had proven himself both kindhearted and endlessly useful? With a sigh, she nodded. "If we must," she said, not hiding her disdain at entering the forest.

The tang of blood was still sharp in the air, and it was not hard for the pair of them to follow the trail the Tinúviel and Lún had left in their wake. Drops of blood here, carelessly snapped ferns there; their path was plain to see. Neither her ears nor her voices alerted her to anything unusual ahead, though as they grew closer to the naturally cleared patch to the side of the deer trail they were following, where the attack had happened, the scent of rot and death grew stronger. Calixte recognized it right away: it smelled like Einar, the cursedwalker she had met a few days after she had arrived in the Kawani Lands, but distinctly female.

Eventually, the dryad and Unicorn reached the bush that Tin had fought down in order to get to her sister, and Calixte stepped lightly over it. The scene lay plainly before them: the tree that the skinwalker must have claimed had deep rows of pale scratches cut into it. Beneath it, the ground was scuffed with darker marks, where the soil had been kicked up to reveal the moisture in the layers of dirt beneath. As far as Calixte could see, there were only two sets of hoofprints. One was distinctly Ithillún's, tiny and light, cloven; the other must have been Tinúviel's, for they, too, were cloven, though they were larger and more rounded-out. All the other marks were scratches made by claws or pawprints; there was even a large smooth spot, where a body had lain. Calixte walked over to it, studying it. It did, indeed, look like the outline of a large cat. "How strange," she said to Bedwyr, "that a beast as evil as a skinwalker might be blessed with the ability to change form."  

[xo maho]

Bedwyr walked silently after Calixte, treading in the small mare's footsteps. When they reached the scene of the fight, he looked in all directions, searching for some sign of the skinwalker, but there was none. "Skinwalkers are not the only ones blessed with the ability to change form," he told her. When she looked at him sharply, he asked, "Do you not know?" It took a shake of her head for him to recall that she was not from this land.

"The way I have heard tell, the foulest of creatures, the skinwalkers, and the purest of creatures, the Angeni, were both given the ability to change form," he began. "My parents told me that the Angeni were blessed with the ability: it allowed them to interact with the humans that would otherwise be inaccessible to us. For the skinwalkers, however, the ability was a curse, as they could only gain it when they killed an animal and were compelled to wear its skin over their own. The curse robbed them of the powers of their own people, if they had any, and of all empathy. They cannot love, they leave their families behind, and seek only to bring about more evil. The pure ones have the benefit of being evil straight to the core, but those who have been cursed... Their pain is unimaginable. They did not come straight from Hell, you see - once upon a time, they had normal lives, too, like our own. They remain haunted by them over the years that are left to them."

He saw her grimace and shudder at his words. He himself was not quite immune to them; they left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he disregarded that. Looking around again, Bedwyr asked, "Should we not seek her out?"  

[xo maho]

The words struck a certain chord of pity in her heartstrings, but Calixte's desire to find the skinwalker who had savaged her daughter had lessened as they had walked - even now, the scent was fading. "No," she replied, shaking her head. "She has long since fled. She could be on the far side of the forest by now if she is slinking about in cat form, licking her wounds. We may never know who she was. Let us pray," she added, "that we never have to see her handiwork again."

Shaking her head and sighing, Calixte turned back the way she came. If the skinwalker was still hanging about - and was stupid enough - she would show herself after that goading. With Bedwyr at her back, she was less afraid of being so bold. She paused for a moment, but her voices did not whisper of anything lurking in the shadows nearby, shoulder blades readying to pounce. Deliberately making her way back to the bush they had passed over on their way in, Cali paused under the pretense of looking back at her companion. "Let us head back; I'm sure the herd could use a briefing, if they have not already deduced what is going on," she said, and turned back to the path ahead of her.

She did not look back.  

[xo maho]

Paris sat in the shadows, doing her best not to hiss in frustration. The presumptuous little mare was leaving, and were it not for her rather formidable-looking guardian, Paris would have struck hard and fast, taking her revenge for the beatdown she had received earlier.

When the crushing weight of the dark mare, the intruder, had finally lifted, Paris had been groggy at best, out cold at worst. She couldn't remember clearly, but she knew that the mare had rolled on top of her, taking as much damage as she herself had probably doled out. Then the pair - sisters, by their leafy hair and adornments - had fled beyond the range of her debilitated clutches. She had lain there for several minutes, recovering her breath and letting the soreness drift from her body. By the time she rose again, thankfully whole and unbroken, she felt as good as she had after waking from her nap this morning. Which was not, by any accounts, a great state of being, but it was better than being trampled by an impetuous little doe.

Her coat, however, had been muddied in the fight, and she had just been slinking off to find a creek to wash in when the new little impetuous doe came to stand beneath the tree that had once belonged to her. By the deference that the stallion she was with dealt her, she must be somebody important, and by her strange looks - she had even more foliage attached to her than the two she had already met - the doe was the mother of the pair that had escaped her. Paris had wanted to tear each one of those vines and leaves stem from root from skin, but her self-preservation instinct had not allowed her to - and now she was right back where she started.

The idiots goaded her, but she stayed silent. There was no need to stay in this gods-forsaken place any longer, lest the trend for today continue and her coat become even more dirtied and bloodied and soiled. It had been a perfect day not even an hour ago, when that little morsel had come to rest under her tree... But no longer. All that was left to do was gather up the pieces of her pride and find a nice stream to bathe in. Or a hot spring. Oh yes, a hot spring would be nice, and she could stretch out her long, pale legs and maybe groom her beautiful, luxurious pink locks. Work out the kinks and mull over a better way to protect herself than leaving it to her odds in a fight. Which, with no training but animal instinct, were not all that great.

Maybe she should try to find someone more malleable, someone who would bend to her will and serve her, defend her as their goddess, mistress, queen... As her children never had.

Perhaps it was time for new children. Hers, after all, had been worthless, soft and sweet like their fathers. All excepting the ones she had borne for Persephonix, but those were far beyond her reach, their virtuous father seemingly stealing them from her grasp. Perhaps it was time for her to handpick them, rather than have her own blood turn on her later - handpick the strong ones, the ones predisposed to love her. Though they would only be pawns, they would defend her like she was their mother...

Purring at the prospect, Paris set out to find a hot spring. This plan of hers might actually work, when she saw fit execute it. It would not happen right away, but happen it would... And then her enemies would perish.

Every. Last. One.  

[xo maho]

Lynnea ushered her charges through the Herdlands, Ithillún walking slightly behind as she guided the blood-blind Tinúviel through the fields. It was a good two hundred yards from here to the river, and if there were no good pools for Tin to stand in, she would have to send Ithillún back to the Gatherers' clearings for a watertight basket to run the water over her sister's back.

The first of the obstacles that Lynnea had to guide her "niece" - they weren't actually blood relatives - across was the Nesting Grounds, which might veritably be the most treacherous part of the Herdlands. For one thing, the nests made for uneven footing. For another, Lynnea had to guide Tin through them without answering the many questions and probing gazes sent her way. It was not often that anyone walked through the Herdlands covered in blood, let alone the matriarch's daughter, now nearly unrecognizable. Brown-red gunk covered her dapples and some of her mint-green mane and tail, and the swirls on her face had been masked, as well. Even her eyelids were weighed down, hiding those green eyes from view.

When they were about halfway through the Nesting Grounds, however, Tinúviel paused. "What?" Lynnea asked, concern growing. Tin looked around beneath heavy lids, searching for something. "What's wrong?"  

[xo maho]

As Lynnea guided her and Lún through the Nesting Grounds as quickly as she could - Tin knew, without looking, that Lynnea was avoiding as many gazes as possible, as she was wont to do - Tin realized that she was missing something. She had been keeping her eyes to the ground, focusing on trying to see past her blood-caked eyelashes, when she stumbled over the familiar edge of a nest. It was that of her neighbor's, and despite the grace she's somehow accumulated when she was dancing with Pach, she always tripped over the edge of their nest; somehow, it seemed more solid than all the others, the grass wall three times more packed than anyone else's.

But that wasn't what she was missing.

Lifting her eyes - oh, they ached, but there was a single sweet sight that would make it all better - she turned her head, casting her gaze out over the nesting area to look for him. He has to be here, she thought. He has to be. There wasn't anywhere else in the Herdlands that he would miss seeing her as she emerged from the forest on the far side of the meeting tree, unless he was already in the river, taking a bath without her. If that was so, he'd have to stay in a little longer, but she knew he wouldn't go in without her. So he had to be nearby.

Pachelbel Amachi, where the heck are you? she thought to herself, wondering if her limited gaze was the problem.  

[Lady Argentum Draconis]

After along night of standing watch, Pachelbel crawled into the nest he shared with Tinuviel. It had been quiet thankfully, but it still was draining, patrolling the boundaries never knowing if something was going to come out of the shadows. He was relieved every time he did an overnight when the sun peaked out over the trees and it meant the worst part was over.

Course this was a different kind of worse. The nest was cold, Tin having vacated it some time earlier to attend to her duties. Least he hoped so, it was her day to watch her sisters. Something Pach was sorry to miss out on, it gave him an excuse to pull out his bells from their hidey hole and actually wear them. It didn't do to jingle when you were supposed to be patrolling through the woods as quietly as possible. He missed his bells too. He felt naked without them, like he didn't have any fur. Ah, well it was for the best. And with that thought his entire train of thought crashed as he fell asleep.

What seemed like a moment later he was wide awake. Something was wrong. He didn't have a clue as to what, but it was something big. He instantly got up and tripped over the edge of the nest nearly landing on his face. He rushed to where Tin should have been with the girls, but his heart nearly stopped when none of them were there. "Tin...?" he voice cracked, and he spun in a circle unsure where to look next.

Suddenly his nose caught the scent of blood. It hung heavy on the air and nearly made him want to be sick. He rushed back towards the nesting area not really sure why. Logically he should have tried to find Calixte, find out what had happened, but he was desperate to find his mate. He half stumbled half ran back to the area and froze as he saw the group standing in the middle of it.

"Tin?" he called out his voice full of anguish as he saw her sides. They didn't to still be bleeding, but there was so much blood on her... He made his way over to her and hissed at seeing her face. "Oh, Tin what happened!?" he hesitated not sure he should touch her, but gave in and gently put his head against hers ignoring everyone else for her.  

[xo maho]

All the panic that had tighten in her back and shoulders when she hadn't seen him right away released when Tinúviel heard his voice, and she sighed. She didn't see him approach, not with all the blood caked against her eyelids that blocked most of her vision, but she heard him behind her as he got closer. A warmth pressed against her cheek, and she let out a breath. Tin closed her eyes, soaking up his presence. "Pach," she croaked, and she felt the hot pressure of tears building behind her eyes. Her voice came out quiet and strained, but suddenly she was laughing. "I need a bath." What are you doing? Some kind of hysteria overcame her like a second panic, and she closed her eyes tighter to beat it down. She was already a mess. "I'll get blood on you," she murmured, pressing her face into his for a moment before pulling away.

Lynnea let out her own sigh of relief as she realized what Tin stopped for - and she found him. Smiling at the pair of them, Lynnea said, "Pachelbel - if you could - guide Tinúviel to the river when you are ready. Her wounds will stop bleeding shortly, according to the healer, but she needs them cleaned." Nodding to him, Lynnea carefully touched Tin on an unblemished part of her shoulder to let her know that she was leaving, and ushered Ithillún away.

Ithillún followed Lynnea's action with a softer, lingering touch to let her sister know she was so sorry, and then let the green mare lead her away. Despite the fact that Tin was no longer with them, though, they were still heading toward the river - a place that Lún was all too familiar with. They had to keep their plants hydrated, after all, she and her sisters, and it never was well for them to stray too far from the river or its stream tributaries. "We're still going to the river?" she said, though the statement was more a question than anything. Did Aunt Lynnea need a bath or a drink? Or...

Lynnea smiled wickedly down at the foal, though it was a softer smile, a quirking of the lips. They were getting closer to the river. "Tinúviel might need more help than a single one of us can give her. Pachelbel might need some help, especially if she lies down because she doesn't feel well." That was the most basic, least frightening explanation she could give the foal - head injuries were serious, and if she got dizzy and fell, she could add another one to the one she was already fighting, and that was indisputably dangerous. "Besides," said Lynnea, "your sister is not the only one who could use a bath."

At Lynnea's words, Lún's eyes widened and she looked back at herself. Oh, she looked hideous - covered in dirt, with holly leaves sticking out of her fur. She wasn't bleeding anywhere, though, which she supposed she ought to be glad about... What even happened? she asked herself. The last thing she'd seen before Tin was there was the smile of that cat. It was a monster - there were monsters out there, after all. Frowning, Lún shuddered. Just being in the presence of that animal seemed to have made her reek, or at least, she thought it had... She shook her head and followed Lynnea to the river, mouth seemingly clamped shut. As soon as they reached the bank, she picked her way into the shallows and laid down, letting the water wash away the filth. Part of her felt awful for polluting the river, but it would run its course out to the sea, wouldn't it? Lún hadn't ever seen the sea, but she had been told about it; it was supposed to be a great blue-green expanse the color of her fur, all undrinkable water. Whatever washed down to it would be lost in so great a lake, or so her young mind hoped.

Lady Argentum Draconis

 

[Lady Argentum Draconis]

Tin's laughter threw him off, and made him feel a little skittish. Stress, had to be stress. He shook his head before realizing that Tin probably couldn't see the gesture very well and he'd have to speak, despite the fact he didn't trust his voice.

"Don't care." he said softly hoping that would be enough to keep his voice from betraying how utterly terrified he was. It wasn't and he hoped he didn't make her upset. She needed him to be strong right now, falling to pieces wouldn't do either of them any good. Supportive now, cry later. He took a deep breath and let it out slow. Not great, but he was about as composed as he could possibly be at the moment.

He nodded at Lynnea's words and glanced over as the mare led little Lun off. Poor thing...he hoped she'd be okay. The entire experience couldn't be easy for her.

Pach leaned in and gently nosed her shoulder. "When you're ready, Love." he said moving to the side that looked...slightly less torn up. "Lean on me, and we'll get you there." he said reassuringly.

Mahogany Sunset