[PRP] Keeping Beasts at Bay (Nemesis + Devi)

[Lady_Ourania]

Airborne clods of earth marked Devi's passage as she thundered between the trees, head down and leading with her horn. The sunlight that hit her hide fractured and painted the nearby trunks with shards of traitorous gold, bright and distracting in the mare's periphery. Her pulse thrashed high in her throat like an animal, caught beneath straining muscle and sweat-damp flesh. It had been a long time since she'd been forced to run for anything other than pleasure. Behind her, she heard the creature's claws raking through the terrain, getting closer with every stumble, every half-hearted attempt to swerve around an obstacle. A litany of curses started up again in her mind, renewing the old trails and pushing out the fear that crept forward in sticky black strands. Damn her smart mouth and her cramping legs; damn the creature whose attention she'd managed to snare by virtue of not knowing when to shut up.

Turning her head meant catching snatches of his lumbering figure through the trunks, dark and relentless as a shadow. She couldn't tell what form he'd taken, if he'd slipped fully into his second skin or still pursued her in a shape tastelessly similar to her own. It didn't matter - both were fully capable of tearing into her flesh. The blood seeping down her shoulder attested to as much. He'd taken a swipe at her before she'd had time to think, and only her reflexes and natural armor had prevented the blow from connecting with her neck. She felt the wounds still, a distant buzz of discomfort just below the adrenaline as she surged forward, up along the narrow path.

Don't tangle with Skinwalkers, girl, her mind murmured in her mother's voice, the words careworn and frail as they echoed through the years. They care for nothing but blood, and they will take it wherever they can get it. Make sure it isn't yours. Of all the advice she should have heeded, that one had seemed fairly insignificant. Until now, with her strength waning and the rise beneath her growing steeper by the second. She'd hoped to lose it in the forest, her modest form enfolded by the trees. But there was no shaking a monster so determined to overtake her. It wanted her dead, and had been only too willing to tell her so in soft, reasonable tones. The wild light in its eyes had been all the more horrifying for the intelligence it belied. It would kill her, and play with her corpse until it tired of the exercise. Then and only then would it leave her alone.

She shuddered mid-step and cast about with wide eyes, the blur of her surroundings offering nothing immediately helpful. The only other figures she'd seen had fled at the sight of what pursued her. No one was going to assist her, a stranger, devoid of ties - she wasn't worth the risk. Hissing between her teeth, she saw the forest had begun to grow sparse up ahead, the trees slighter, twisted and leafless, while stone shown through the patchy grasses. Much higher and she'd be running on sheer rock, the range itself rearing up in front of her. If she went sideways, and sprang down without managing to break her ankle, she might be able to make it another couple of miles before the thing caught her.

But even as she turned and looked down, she saw the Skinwalker had anticipated as much, and already moved to intercept. The creature stood several yards below, barely winded, watching her without expression. There was no sympathy, no warmth in its gaze. Her blood still stained its heavy paw, red showing through the fine layer of mud it had picked up during the chase. She stared at it until hate took root in all the places that she ached, wedging itself in the parallel scores that ran through her shoulder. The feeling bloomed hot and angry in her chest, and she snorted it out in a cloud of disdain. Sorry, momma. Already tangled. But like hell would she die cowering against a mountain side.

"Congratulations, you've caught me," she spat, angling her head so that the sunlight caught the delicate minaret of her horn. "Not an unimpressive feat, given that better than you have tried. Unfortunately, you're not really my type. But since you seem to want to press the issue..."  

[Tsunake]

Patrolling was second nature by now to Nemesis. Once, he had thought it a simple matter of ensuring that no lessers dared to sully his family's domain. He had been young and stupid, blinded with hubris. Perhaps if he had been half as competent as he'd believed himself to be, Rötschreck would still live to this day. The thought did not sting as it once did, its razor edge only producing a mere throb as it dragged against his half-healed heart. He shrugged off the distractions, forcing himself to stay alert as he picked his way through the mountainous terrain. Scouting from above would have been faster, but time spent ensuring the safety of the borders was never a waste.

He would hardly call it luck that his efforts were not in vain. The stink of hellspawn hit him so sharply that his hooves ground against the stone as he jerked to a halt. Never would he forget the taint of Skinwalker, the wrongness that crawled through the scent. Unbidden, wild and violent anger welled deep inside of the Kalona, leaving him swinging his head wildly as he sought to pinpoint the source of the smell. In an instant, he'd determined his direction and leapt forward, a growl rumbling in his throat that was lost amid the sound of his hooves pounding into the dirt. His spaded tail slapped harshly at his own flanks, heightening his rage and spurring him on. In truth, it was unneeded. Caution, he tried to think in vain. He must be cautious. He must not lose his sense of self to the bloodlust already singing in his veins.

Part of him hoped that it would be the creature that had claimed his father's life, and his teeth gnashed angrily even as he pushed even harder for speed. Kalona willing, he would pay the beast back tenfold for the agony it had caused the Black Skull Herd. --there. In the rapidly dwindling distance, he could make out the pelted beast and its quarry. The golden lesser was of no concern to him, wounded and bleeding as she was and the Kalona roared a guttural note of raw fury.

With teeth bared and his eyes burning with hatred, Nemesis struck. His head snaked forward, intending to hammer the Skinwalker with a blow that was meant to knock it askew. He was not one for words, and he struck again and again without pause. Be it a hoof or a fang or a swipe from his thick tail, the Kalona did not care how he drew blood, so long as he drew it.

Oh, yes. The earth would be stained with it, if he had his way.  

[Lady_Ourania]

She observed through narrowed eyes as the creature sauntered closer, in no hurry now that it knew she was cornered. Devi clacked her teeth curtly in response, ears pinned flat against the messy halo of her mane. Just like a stallion to make her wait for something less than worthwhile. The kirin had opened her mouth to deliver a retort in a similar vein when something massive burst from the trees at a dead sprint. A jolt of shock that ran belly-deep had her rearing up to meet it - and since when had Skinwalkers run in packs? - but it bypassed her without a backward glance. Instead, she was treated to the wake of a roar that made slush run through the very marrow of her bones. The newcomer descended on the Skinwalker in a snapping, snarling wave, no technique to his bludgeoning at all. Wings, tail, teeth - all came to bear with a frightening intensity. The Walker yowled and retaliated with equal fervor, great paws lashing out at the stallion's eyes and throat. Those claws jerked away suddenly, bloodied from the spikes that sat near his shoulders, or perhaps the fangs that lined his mouth. But the splashes of red that marked the foreign Kalona widened and deepened until they dripped. Much more and they would overrun the odd, flint and diamond color of him.

Devi stood transfixed as the two predators clawed and bit at each other, nothing elegant in the display. Battle wasn't exactly a foreign concept to her, even if she didn't often deign to take part in it. But the sheer brutality of this fight, the way that nothing was held in reserve, made it difficult to tug her bright stare away. She finally woke to the hazard involved when leathery wings buffeted her like a tempest, sending stinging gouts of air straight into the open scratch marks on her shoulder. Devi shied back and fled down the barren pass on blind impulse, her mane rippling behind her in frayed, golden banners. Her mind, released from the thrall of such bloodsport, sped ahead of her, peeking down abandoned avenues and lining up countless possibilities. The first hit of disbelief made it hard to draw in breath, her chest constricting with it. That was followed by a glimmer of wonderment at her luck, her stride going loose and aimless. What were the chances that a Kalona would step in on her behalf? Slim to none, with the latter being the most probable. Yet here she was, free from the creature that had dogged her step. Because a different class of predator had barreled in from nowhere and decided to battle it to the death.

The relief left her slightly dizzy, and she paused beneath the relative safety of the canopy to regroup. Devi debated for all of five seconds before she turned back to survey the place she'd left, the clash still ongoing. It wasn't clear who was winning, or even if there would be a triumphant party at the end of everything. More likely they would just tear each other apart, rip at sinew and peel away flesh until there was nothing left to debilitate. She breathed deeply, nose wrinkling at the scent of blood, hers and others, that still trickled its way through the greenery. The better, cleverer part of her knew that she should keep running, stick to the trees and find somewhere to lay low. If the Skinwalker ultimately won, it might continue the game it had started. But some small whisper of self urged her to wait, to see how this scenario played out. Savage of her, perhaps, but better the monster died now than she be forced to guard her step at every hour.  

[Tsunake]

Rage has seized the helm, leaving him blind and uncaring to anything but the demon filling his senses. For every slash that exposes his blood and muscle to the air, he rips back into the Skinwalker, bellowing with hatred and bloodlust. He's unaware of the mare streaking away, his jaws slamming shut mere centimeters away from the monster's neck in what would have undoubtedly been a killing blow had he been able to execute it properly. Frustration fuels the flames of his ire, and yet, he can still hear that voice advising caution. Brute strength will not be enough to overwhelm this thing--but he shoves that thought away, bloodied froth spilling from his jaws while his nostrils flare with exertion.

Savagely, he drops his head, wanting to impale the demon with his horns and tear. It proves to be a mistake he will not forget. In an instant, the stallion simply isn't there any longer. The wolf's paws hit his side, blunt nails scrabbling at torn flesh even as its jaws latch onto his wing. With its hold secure, the animal goes berserk, flailing and thrashing until bones crack and flesh gives a sickening pop as it tears. Nemesis bellows again, staggering and stumbling as agony laced all up and down his spine. The wolf is relentless, and the Kalona feels his breath stuttering in his throat, muscles spasming with pain.

Not clever enough. He thought dimly, and his knees buckled as though suddenly realizing just how much blood he had lost. Mother would be ashamed. The wolf yanked again, and the stallion felt himself pitch, his legs folding underneath him even as he hit the ground. His proud neck was bent, his breathing labored as the demon continued to ravage his wing, clearly toying with him now that he seemed spent. Brute strength had failed.

Slowly, his free wing started to flutter in defeat, drawing the attention of the wolf. A growl stirred in its throat, almost like a laugh. The stallion growled in turn, but the sound was distorted even to his ears.

Not clever at all.  

[Lady_Ourania]

When she'd been very young and full of foolish fantasies, she'd curbed her wanderlust by telling her little brother stories. Chima had always lit up at the prospect of a romance between the hero and his lady, his tawny eyes glittering as she detailed the courtship that was ultimately derailed by misunderstandings. He'd loved the reconciliation best, with everything cleaned up and tied in a neat bow so that the two lovers could exchange vows of everlasting affection. But Devi had always preferred to highlight the battle scenes, the long, drawn out conflicts that left both parties exhausted. The idea of two stallions at odds, with the purest of intention rising above his opponent, had always appealed to her. There had never been much bloodshed, not while Chima listened so raptly, but she'd worked hard to make it seem epic nonetheless. With only a vague understanding of endurance and a smattering of tactics to call her own, she'd carelessly invented on the spot. The only hard and fast rule was that no one ever died. Chima's tender little heart wouldn't have been able to take it.

This was nothing like her childhood stories. It was over before she'd had time to properly work out who had the upper hand, the advantage unclear beneath an ever-present layer of gore. Jaws closed with a snap on thin flesh, audible from where she stood, and an involuntary shudder worked its way between her shoulder blades. The Kalona was on the ground now, his great head bowed, sides heaving with exertion. He didn't even cry out when the Skinwalker continued to thrash the wing clenched in its teeth, great gouges appearing in the delicate membrane as it was shaken apart.

Devi took another step back, receding further into the dappled shadows. It was strange, to realize that she was afraid. Not of the Skinwalker and its mindless animosity, which would have made the most sense, but of the Kalona. Yet her fear wasn't in his red-clotted teeth, or the spaded tail that now laid lax as a sleeping serpent upon the ground; it was that he would look up. If their eyes met, the last thing he would see was her standing there, and she'd be forced to acknowledge the role she'd played. The prospect made her guts twist in a way that being chased to the precipice of her own death had not.  

[Tsunake]

Back and forth, his unravaged wing continued to spasm and beat against his bulky side like a drum, its movements growing more and more erratic. Pain lanced through him, and his breath grew more and more shallow. The spade of his tail dug pitifully into the soil, as though rending the earth would somehow lessen his own agony. Was it his imagination, or was the wolf's grip loosening? No, not his imagination at all. The creature clearly thought him down for the count, and who could blame it? His sides were slicked with his own blood, and the Kalona knew this was likely going to be the end of his life. His mother would mourn, and his family would grieve. There were others that could take up the mantle of Protector, at least... and, Nemesis thought grimly to himself, at least he would die taking out one of the hated enemies of the Black Skull herd.

Gathering its lean muscles underneath itself, the Skinwalker leapt with a snarl, its bloodied mouth opened wide as it lunged for the still fluttering wing. It intended to break him before it feasted upon his heart, after. The wolf lunged with a snarl that sounded gleeful to his ears--and Nemesis reared back. His razor-lined maw opened wide as he bit down onto the creature's side.

The wolf screamed even as he savaged it, a growl bubbling in his throat as he snapped his head back and forth. He bit as hard as he could, tasting blood before he finally flung the animal as hard as he could to the side. The Skinwalker hit the ground with a yelp, scrabbling to its feet before it quickly limped off into the underbrush. It wouldn't risk its life, not on a stallion who was bleeding out--but Nemesis knew it would be back to find his corpse. And if it couldn't find it, well, it would have him marked forever.

The Kalona panted raggedly, having to try twice until he could stagger onto his own hooves. His legs shook like a newborn foal's, and the stallion limped a few feet until he had to sag against the trunk of a tree to support most of his weight. His homelands, for now, were safe.

That was all any Protector could ask for.

His crimson gaze lifted for a moment, locking onto the golden mare standing ways away in the distance. He'd forgotten about her, and after a moment, the stallion forced himself to stand up straight. He would not allow a lesser to see him in such a state, and he arched his neck proudly before he stumbled and allowed his head to drop again.

Her life had been a result of his actions, however unintentional. Nemesis couldn't even fathom showing this weakness in front of someone like her. If he weren't so tired, he'd be shamed to the bone.  

[Lady_Ourania]

Seconds spooled out into minutes, and still the Kalona wallowed in the dirt, caught somewhere between crippled and dead. The Walker was just indulging in gratuitous violence at this point, putting off the killing strike until the other stallion's humiliation was complete. The creature likely knew she was still there, lingering indecisively at the outskirts, and it enjoyed playing to an audience. Her lip lifted in disgust, and she pawed roughly at the soil before backing away. There was nothing she could do, not unless she wanted to add to the body count. And anyway, this might be the only chance she had to make the miles between them count. When she moved to run down the incline, however, the repetitive motions of the Kalona's free wing finally caught her attention. It still beat at the air, despite the way its twin sat shipwrecked in a pool of its own blood. A silent bid for mercy, perhaps, though none seemed forthcoming. But red pennants didn't usually signify a truce. A lure, she realized with a start, just as the Skinwalker bolted for it.

The scream made her ears flip down automatically, trying to protect her hearing as it blasted along the mountainside with the force of an avalanche. Bristling with rage and pain, it emerged as an otherworldly shriek, a sound far beyond the vocal capacity of even feral animals. A sulfuric reek intermingled with the scent of blood, clotting in her senses until her eyes watered. Then the Kalona hurled it away from him, the corded muscles in his neck standing out in sharp relief. The Skinwalker hit bare rock and rolled before it regained its position, half-curling around its injured side before it retreated at an awkward sprint. Devi watched it vanish into the manzanita thicket, still snarling privately to itself. Was that it? she wondered, her ears angled toward the tufts of grey fur lost to grasping branches in the creature's haste. A trail of blood in its wake indicated that the wound was substantial, the stuff oddly black and oily to her senses. Still, there wasn't enough to guarantee that the chunk the Kalona had taken out of it would prove fatal, and Skinwalkers were notoriously resilient. That didn't stop her from hoping the monster would succumb after a long, debilitating fight against infection. Things of its ilk didn't deserve a fast death.

Shadows burgeoning in the corner of her vision prompted Devi to look back toward the battle site, and her heart tripped in surprise. The Kalona had somehow managed to find his legs, his wing a clump of mangled flesh and bone that left irregular tracks in the earth alongside his own heavy tread. A welling of sympathy sprang forward unbidden, swirling alongside the more common unease, and she clicked her tongue against the feeling. He made it a few feet before he caught up against a tree trunk, puffing air and pressing hard into the bark. She straightened up when those eyes snapped toward her, rough-hewn garnets studded in the broken skin of his face. But there didn't seem to be any accusation stranded in their depths, nothing that condemned her inaction. His expression closed off before she could decipher anything more, head coming up in something like challenge. But it dipped down again soon afterward, and there was no dismissing the pain she saw scrawled there, not in his face or in the blood he forfeited with every step.

Breath swelled in her chest, and as much as she hated to admit it, that was all thanks to him. Last minute rescues weren't something she'd ever heard attributed to Kalona before, but there was a first time for everything. And she wasn't one for ingratitude if she could help it. Sparing a glance toward where the Skinwalker had fled, Devi approached at a deliberate canter, not about to chance surprising him in his current state. The last thing the mare wanted was a tail slash to even out the asymmetrical claw marks she already wore. "Easy there, big guy," she said when she was within range, her voice pitched softer than usual. "Maybe don't move around so much. I'm not sure if you noticed, but you're a bit of a mess."  

[Tsunake]

He had closed his eyes as a means of denying the pain, trying to focus on his breathing instead of the way his whole body flared with it. His wing was the worst, and Nemesis gingerly kept it tucked close to his body. He may never be able to fly again, with this sort of injury--No. His thoughts were firm. He wouldn't think about it now. He needed to get himself up and back to the herd, to warn them in case the Skinwalker attempted to retaliate for his actions today. He exhaled noisily, exhausted, and grew still only when he heard hoof beats. Not the gait of the 'walker, for it was too light. A slow lift of his head allowed him to see that it was the mare, fool that she was, returning when she should have been long gone. Just like a lesser, to not understand the danger of superior predators.

It did not even occur to him that the same might be said for Kalona willing to risk themselves in a head-to-head battle with a Skinwalker.

"Keep your distance, mare." His growl was throaty, and the stallion forced his legs to move. He faltered once, trembling like a newborn foal, but sheer pride alone had him standing upright despite the agony that lanced through his body. Kalona, he was going to have to learn how to fight better against those monsters. He eyed her as best he could, but a shameful amount of his concentration was devoted to merely remaining upright. Blood continued to pool down his hide, and Nemesis knew that if he could not staunch the bleeding, he would not make it back to the rest of the herd.

Nemesis took a closer look at the stranger, noting her scaly hide and the strange curve to her horn. A unicorn? No. One of those newcomers he'd heard whispers of on the horizon, a kirin. His nostrils still flared with every breath, rimmed with pink thanks to his exertion. "Was your life not gift enough?" He rumbled, the words biting due to his pain. "I would flee while you still have the chance."

Not that he had any intention of going after her, especially not in this state.  

[Lady_Ourania]

His growl drew her short, gilded features wiped clean of feeling as she deciphered the words strung within the sound. Devi stood still beneath his scrutiny, a slight flick of her hair partially obscuring the marks on her shoulder. Not that hiding the evidence mattered much in the presence of a predator, but it seemed better not to invite anything by bleeding in the open where he could see it. "If that's really what you want," she said at last, tilting her head slightly to test if the new angle helped her get a read on him. Hostility and pride had coalesced to shape his face into a mask, flint-hard as the rest of him. But cracks were forming beneath the strain of his injuries, bright lines of tension and fatigue that made her horn itch. "Seeing as you're about to fall over, though, the whole lone wolf act seems a little moot."

She ventured another step closer, watching him for signs of a feint. Wariness swirled up inside her like a snow flurry, icy and aimless and railing against her gamble. Where was her mother's advice when she needed it? All that wisdom lost to the tides, and her chancing the last of her luck on some bedraggled Kalona. Worse, one who clearly didn't want her there, and was expending a great deal of effort to indicate as much. The red drool emerging from between clenched jaws wasn't exactly a comforting sight, either. Devi had only caught a glimpse of the damage he'd done to the Skinwalker, but the gleam of ribs against shredded muscle had left her with an ugly representation of what failure might entail.

At his reminder, she had to tamp down on the impulse to look backward again, half-expecting a jaundiced set of eyes to be watching them from the underbrush. It took her several seconds to recognize the threat for what it was, and by then she'd quirked an eyebrow in his direction. "Right. And you're going to do what, exactly? Aggravate your wounds by chasing me off and then proceed to bleed to death all over the side of a mountain? Not my first choice, but far be it from me to impose my own personal beliefs on someone of your stature." She chewed pensively on the inside of her cheek, an old habit she periodically tried to break to little avail. She could still go, divorce herself from the frankly idiotic proceedings and leave the Kalona to his fate. Anything less would be squandering his so-called "gift," and provoking further trouble. If only the prospect of a life-debt didn't prod at her, sharper than the teeth in his mouth and the edge on her desire to forget.

"I can stop the bleeding," she decided with a firm set to her mouth, just as final step brought her into the creature's range. Being so near to him made the muscles in her legs twitch with dislike, but she repressed it. "Give you a fighting chance to heal. Probably," she amended as an afterthought. It would take time, and powers she hadn't used since she'd been a filly and Chima had scraped his knees. She raised her chin to look him in the eye, and left her tone purposefully light. "Or I can keep my distance and you can die. Your call."  

[Tsunake]

The air stank with the blood of the two combatants, but the mare was wounded too, he realized. Only after she'd drawn close enough could he confirm her scent. Her sassy remark was enough to make his lips curl back, baring bloodied teeth with malicious intent. The worst part was, she wasn't speaking anything that was not true. Humiliation burned through him, and the stallion eyed the Kirin with no small amount of loathing. Why had she not left like any other sensible creature? She hardly even smelled nervous! Did she really think him so cowed? She was right again, he grimaced silently to himself. The most he could do now would be to limp away and try to lick his wounds...

Nemesis fixed her with a wary stare at the unexpected offer, his eyes flickering to her horn yet again. Weak healing properties, then? If she was speaking truly... well, he couldn't turn down that offer. He hated himself for his weakness, but death was no solution.

"Do what you will." He forced out through gritted fangs, twisting his head away as though to focus on his own injuries. A convenient excuse. He'd never had to ask a lesser for help before, and his shame burned all the brighter. The worst part was knowing he was being foolish, but some lessons were ingrained too deeply to let go of on a whim.

The stallion took a step and staggered with the effort, suppressing a snarl as his wings flared out on instinct to try and stabilize his balance. "But do it quickly," He hissed.  

[Lady_Ourania]

Aside from an unsettling show of teeth, the Kalona did not seem prepared to dispute her claims. Even the venomous glance he pinned her with lacked any real sense of outrage. She mulled over the change with some interest while he made another show of looking her over, lingering this time on her horn. It was more ornate than the ones unicorns tended to brandish, plates of polished gold layered neatly atop each other and ending in a tip like a scorpion's tail. Far from the ideal healing instrument, but better an imperfect tool than nothing at all. Maybe once she'd managed to stopper the worst of his injuries, she could set off to gather some herbs to deaden the pain and promote long-term healing. Supposing he was capable of keeping anything that wasn't raw meat down long enough for it to take effect.

The acquiescence, when it came, made her snort with thinly veiled amusement. "As compelling as that offer sounds, big guy, I think I'll just stick to sealing up your wounds for now," Devi said with a wry smirk. It faded as she examined what she had to work with, sidling as she determined what would respond best to healing energy and what should be left to the professionals. She had no inclination to try and tackle his wing, too full of awkward angles and small, finicky muscles for her to approach the task with confidence. It wasn't what was ultimately killing him, either. The surrounding ribcage was a landscape of claw and fang marks, some oozing while others gurgled from warm, gaping mouths.

Taking a deep breath, Devi closed her eyes and focused on the weight of her horn, brow wrinkling around the bed of scales on which it rested. There had never been any formal training in this area, everything she'd gleaned borrowed from memories and the brief tutelage of strangers. She had to want to heal, first and foremost. It wouldn't work if she didn't commit wholly to it. So she led with the relief at having escaped death, the sight of the Skinwalker's retreat still fresh in her mind. Her horn warmed slightly as she honed in on her own latent gifts, casting about for something to galvanize the escaping wisps of energy. Chimalsi, all legs and unfettered affection, rose up in her mind like a specter. And suddenly it was his blood she was smelling, his muffled sobs ricocheting in her ears. He'd run afoul of the blackberry bushes again in an attempt to find the best fruit to offer her. The furrows in Devi's brow smoothed, and her horn began to glow, each individual petal limned in a soft green light. She exhaled slowly and opened her eyes, taking in the bulk of the Kalona in front of her. Once she felt the energy stabilize, she ducked slightly for better access to his ravaged frame.

Before she could so much as touch her horn to his hide, however, the Kalona moved. His wing shot out toward her face, and she had to sidestep to avoid the full brunt of the blow. The image of her little brother wavered like a mirage and blew out. Her horn went dark.

"It'd go by much more quickly if you would lie down," she snapped before she could stop herself. Now she would have to begin the process all over again, and already the toll was starting to make itself known. Her ears buzzed faintly from the aborted energy, and her horn registered as hot against her skull. All that and she hadn't even grazed him. Still, he'd stumbled because he was in pain, not out of malice. Devi breathed out roughly to alleviate pressure, and tried a more reasonable tactic. "I'm not a unicorn; I don't do this as a matter of course. So your cooperation would be incredibly helpful just now." He could ignore her from the ground if he really wanted, but at least it would reduce his chances of tripping and skewering himself on her horn.  

[Tsunake]

The blankness of his expression spoke volumes by itself. Offer? He mentally turned back on himself, trying to figure out what he'd said. Do as she... will... His ears tipped back a fraction, his ill-temper bleeding into his confusion. The humiliation of being spoken to in such a fashion grated, and the stallion soon abandoned his attempt to puzzle out just what she was hinting at.

Never did he expected to be snapped at by this lesser, however.

The Kalona jerked his head up in something akin to astonishment, red eyes slightly wider than they had been as he stared at her with an air of incredulity and pain. He grudgingly had to admit that while she spoke sense, but he still bristled and prickled as her tone raked over him like porcupine quills. Nemesis' jaw worked as he sought calmness, the void, that felt just out of reach. He was too agitated, adrenaline still pumping through him as though to numb the sensation of his badly damaged wing. It throbbed with every beat of his own heart, and the sensation was driving him mad.

"If that beast should return, going down would be... unwise." He growled through gritted teeth, pointedly staring elsewhere. If he could not see the golden mare, perhaps that would lessen the urge to kill her.

With a rough sound of effort, Nemesis limped over to a nearby tree, smearing blood against the bark as he sagged against it for support. His legs still trembled, but he was steadier now... and with luck, this mare would go about her business quickly. "Courageous?" He muttered to himself, allowing his eyes to fall half-closed. "Or just stupid?" He honestly couldn't tell.  

[Lady_Ourania]

The glance he aimed her way was meant to check her resolve, laden with fresh, unspoken threats. And Devi could practically see the scales that balanced her usefulness against her continued provocations as they tipped and swung, in constant flux from one second to the next. If he'd been in any state to so much as lunge in her direction, his temper might have done more to dissuade her from staying close and speaking plainly. But he was succumbing with every pointed look, every bitten off word, while she stood mostly intact. Had their roles been reversed, Devi had no doubt as to how the proceedings might have played out; even at her most charming, she was little more than meat to a carnivore. But doing nothing let the Skinwalker win by default. Better a natural enemy where she could see him than an unnatural one skulking just out of sight.

The disagreement, while not unexpected, still managed to strike as hollow as the rest. His chances of survival were fairly dismal, regardless of whether the creature decided to make another appearance. Did he really think that being upright would make a difference? Or was it just a Kalona conceit to die with one's hooves still firmly planted? Devi rolled her eyes, the flesh inside her cheek popping against her teeth as she refrained from pointing out his oversight. Instead, she latched onto the ambiguity of his statement, hoping to keep her mood afloat. "I worry for the stallion who turns down a roll in the dirt with a pretty someone." If his past reactions were to be believed, innuendo was not the Kalona's strong suit. Maybe it was petty, even unkind to needle him on a level he failed to understand. But anything was preferable to letting his obstinacy crack her composure twice in such short order.

Further attempts at coyness cut off when he moved, hauling his largely unresponsive limbs toward the nearest tree. Devi trailed behind him, close enough that a few hurried steps would carry her to his side in case he toppled in earnest. Not that she could realistically catch him if he fell, heads taller and stones heavier than she could boast even in his sorry condition. And she didn't really treasure the idea of trying to pick him up off the ground she'd tried to steer him toward in the first place. Fortunately, he made it without incident, leaning heavily against his chosen crutch and hissing under his breath. Even if the exact words escaped her, Devi could guess at the gist of them.

"So you can compromise," she mused aloud, joining him beneath the sparse shadows of the tree. Peering into his face gleaned her nothing new, and she gingerly returned to his side and consulted his wounds. Bad, but no worse for his insistence. "Good enough, I guess. Hold as still as you can, and try to keep the sweet-talk to a minimum."

Again, she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, grappling for some sense of connection with her mixed heritage. It took longer than the last time to organize her thoughts, to remind herself that she had offered to undertake this in the first place. The battle-reek of him had crawled up behind her face, a coppery press on her sinuses, and she had to ignore the way her stomach churned with it. Her features twisted as she chased the heavy, errant curls of healing energy, pinning them down and instilling them with purpose. Gradually, her horn warmed again, the light of it casting strange, underwater shadows across her eyelids. Free-floating motes in her mind assembled themselves slowly back into her brother's shape, his striped face fuzzy around the edges where her memory failed to compensate, locked into foalhood forever.

Devi bowed her head, resting her horn lightly against the ruins of the Kalona's ribs and willing him not to startle away. The curative power she'd accumulated surged forward, almost dizzying as it lanced through her skull and arced into the nearest gouges. Veins of pale jade crawled over the darkness of his hide from that point of contact, lighting him up from the inside as they mapped out severed veins and frayed muscle. Small shifts in the radiant pattern indicated estranged vessels coming together again, giving birth to brief, hot pinpricks as they knit themselves. The layers of broken tissue smoothed out, regrouped, reminded of their continuity even as they struggled where sections had been clawed away.

It was just as well that her body knew what to do, each individual repair beyond her scope. But she had spoken the truth when she'd admitted to being unschooled, and acknowledged that there were small, undeniable flaws that she could not begin to fix. Every time the energy tried to douse the pain in his wing, she redirected it. There were too many delicate parts to leave to chance, and botching it might only deepen the existing hurt.  

[Tsunake]

Her words did not register with the beast at first, but the dawning recognition in his eyes was undoubtedly a slow, satisfying thing. They rolled to their corners to eye the mare, narrowed with scrutiny. It was clear that he wasn't sure if he was being mocked or not--if he even understood what she was implying or not, and for once, Nemesis decided to hold his tongue. Better to remain quiet than make an even larger fool of himself than he already had.

His ears twitched irritably as she studied him, his tongue rolling against the roof of his mouth, scraping itself on his bloodied teeth to distract him from the endless throbbing against his side.

Though she did little but press her horn against his wound, she might as well have rammed him with it. Nemesis's hide jolted and trembled underneath her touch, a shimmering night sky stained with red, but he held himself as steady as he could. His teeth sought the inside of his cheek, grinding the tender flesh to keep himself from roaring.

His skin itched, almost seeming to burn as the magics of the lesser poured through him, and Nemesis was vaguely aware of how his very hearing felt... muted, somehow. Dimly, he thought of his herd, wondering if the 'walker would seek revenge on them before he could return to warn them.

His legs buckled, and after a moment, those baleful red eyes rolled back up in his head. The stallion collapsed like a falling mountain, swept into unconsciousness while the kirin's magic continued to stitch up the very worst of his wounds. He wasn't dead--not yet, but he likely would have been without the mare's assistance.

Fortunately or not, he would not be down for the count for very long. Just enough for the tendons of his wing to shakily attempt to hold themselves together.

Lady_Ourania

 

[Lady_Ourania]

Behind closed eyelids, Devi gave up on following the intricacies of what she was doing, too many lights and sensations darting through her to track. Time itself drifted past in strange heaves, running faster and slower, an inconstant stream that defied counting. Gradually, even the delineation between their bodies grew indistinct, the shivers she sensed rattling through her horn transmuted into her limbs in turn. Was that her heart or his pounding over loud in her ears? Who was holding their breath? Her spine creaked, an echo of the pain the Kalona felt or a reminder that her body was built to move, she wasn't sure. Before she could reach any true conclusion, the connection fractured with a near-inaudible snap. She stumbled in place, the gasp she'd secreted away in her lungs now lodged in her throat like a stone. Energy clung to her horn in strands of broken spider silk, there and yet not. The bloodied tip shed one last green spark before fading out, dissipating before it touched the ground.

"s**t," she said with feeling, swaying slightly in place while grey novas burst and receded across her vision. Her head felt disconnected from the rest of her, stuffed with dandelion fluff that threatened to disperse on the next breeze. That didn't stop her jaws from clenching against the sudden roiling in her guts, and Devi had to forcibly remind herself that throwing up on the Kalona's remaining injuries probably wouldn't encourage the healing process. It was always a contradiction of sorts to her, how much healing hurt. Perhaps it could be blamed on her checkered lineage, the unicorn traces in her blood turning on her when she overreached. Not that healing life-threatening injuries was something she'd ever attempted before.

Judging by the fallen Kalona, it hadn't exactly been a pleasant experience for him, either. Tentatively, she followed him down on legs made of finely spun sugar, too exhausted to try and put distance between them. Her bent knee grazed his newly-healed belly, and though it twitched at the contact, she ultimately left it there. Maybe she was banking too hard on his reaction time being slowed by pain, but nothing short of teeth in her throat could make her stand now. Her tail curled tiredly around her body, tufted fur tickling her side. Idly, the mare noted that the wounds on her shoulder had scabbed over, no doubt encouraged by the residual magic in the air. When she'd managed to talk her stomach down, Devi turned her attention to the results of her labor. Scars crisscrossed his flesh in heavy lines now, jagged, angry marks that lightened to pearl under her steady gaze. His wing remained largely unchanged, but most of the blood on the ground was turning brown, nothing new adding to the encaustic layers of it. Alive, but a long way from well. That would take time, and herbs she'd have to gather on this wind-blasted range. In a minute, she reasoned, blinking heavily until the marred dark of him blurred.

He finally stirred with more than mere breath, and she rallied her drifting attention to watch his face as he woke. "Remember when I said you should lie down?" she asked conversationally, exhaustion creeping in at the edges of the words. "Just go with it next time, handsome. Girls don't like to beg." Despite her better judgment, Devi shifted closer to catch his stare. It didn't hurt that his bulk kept the cold mountain air from hitting her directly. "How do you feel?"