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Oh the nerve of this guy... Kenley had wanted to do something unusually drastic before Llyr had even confirmed that he was, indeed, Lyla's ex-brother, if only for the fact that he was almost positive that was who he was dealing with right now. Being told what to do, within his own territory on top of it? Not cool. Unfortunately he had more pressing matters to attend to, or his usual defensive tactics would flare full force without so much as this... less-than-congenial exchange.

He opened his mouth to snap at Llyr -- he wasn't quite sure what he was going to say, but that never really stopped him before -- when Lyla's tumultuous condition broke the strained silence. Wide-eyed, panic took hold of his actions once more, pushing the rage to the passenger seat. "Um... g-give me a moment, I'll be right back. Stay right here," he offered through the fear, indicating the area where the source of the heaving seemed to be to let Llyr know where Kenley's priorities were at the moment.

Reaching around the tree, the silcoon placed a hand on Lyla's shoulder as she seemed to huddle on the ground, letting her know he was there. "Come on, let's get you sitting up, alright? Take it easy now," he instructed, helping her move upright as carefully as possible. He kept a firm grip on one of her shoulders as he reached for the branch he had removed, holding her steady as he popped one of the berries off and extended it to the ledyba, "Okay, Lyla? You need to eat this. It'll help. I've got some water if that'll make it go down easier, but you need to take it." He set the branch in her lap and the canteen at her side, all within easy reach, "You keep taking those until you feel better. I'm... not sure how many it'll take. Stay right here, alright?" It was a wonder his voice wasn't shaking, but his hands were a whole other story, cautiously placing the makeshift washcloth over her head to dampen the fever. "Get some rest, if you can," he continued, making sure the cloth wouldn't fall before he stood up again, "I'll be right back... need to take care of something."

'Take care of something,' indeed. He tried to leave Lyla's side as quietly as possible, but now that he had taken care of that much, it seemed that the panic had picked up on the rage, working in conjunction with one another. "Llyr!" he called over, if only to get the butterfree's attention over his way. Instead of following up with an answer to the previously posed question, the silcoon took the hardest swing he could at Llyr, "How dare you!" Kenley couldn't remember ever being so livid, and he certainly couldn't remember ever trying to punch someone before.

As much as Kenley would have preferred to stick around with Lyla, to make sure everything was helping her out, he knew it was merely helpless worry that was contributing to that urge. There was something he could still do now and, with all this pent up stress and fear and fury, it was a very promising outlet... though he was hoping he wouldn't regret the decision later. Maybe her deteriorated look had caused this preference to come to light all the stronger, but it was probably for the best he didn't stay too close, not when the source of all her anguish was right at the front door.

Kenley's mind had cut off the receptors to any pain he was feeling from hitting Llyr full tilt, the hand flexing once in reaction but otherwise stayed balled in a fist. Llyr's use of the word 'runt' only helped to spur that adrenaline hit to his system further. While Kenley was no stranger to rage, he was to this degree of it, causing his actions to fall under a more unpredictable range. After all, Kenley hated violence... but he was more than willing to make an exception this time; he wanted to. However, he didn't know how far down this path was going to lead him, and he couldn't find a handhold to catch himself on the quick descent.

He bristled at the angry words, as though Llyr had no right to feel wrathful at a time like this. "Don't you dare act like you don't know!" he growled, eyes briefly following where the bow had landed before coming back up to meet the source of so much suffering, "How could you treat her like that? Treat anyone like that!?" He didn't care that he probably wasn't making any sense. For all Kenley cared, he could just beat the sense into Llyr, "She trusted you, you b*****d!" He was intent on knocking the butterfree down, but he wasn't entirely sure how plausible a feat he was trying to accomplish there as he aimed another jab at Llyr's stomach. Despite all reservations, Kenley knew he was a small guy, but that didn't mean he had to play the part.

Llyr's words grazed past Kenley without the silcoon really paying much heed to the context. The verbal jabs at his small build normally may have fueled his anger, had he not already been past the point that it could have. His mind was stuck on the damage Llyr had managed to cause Lyla, both physical and emotional trauma, which took Kenley completely out of the picture. Currently he was merely proxy at best, even if Lyla hadn't been feeling the violent tendencies herself. It didn't matter, for the fact of the matter still stood: it shouldn't have happened.

Instead, the words that managed to dig through and stoke that fire were Llyr's admittance to ignorance. He didn't know? How could he not know!? "How often is it that you treat others like trash, if you can't remember?" he snapped viciously, "Do you abuse everyone close to you!?" No, he didn't see the irony of such high-caliber words coming from a stranger out for blood.

It wasn't until Llyr used Silver Wind did Kenley remember that he was also a pokémon, and fully capable of using such moves as well. However, in the heat of the moment, they didn't seem like the most adequate to use. String Shot may be good for tangling him up, but to be honest, he didn't feel up to it. Maybe he didn't want to pull a stunt like that in order to get the upper hand, or maybe he was enjoying it too much to get his hands dirty over a vindictive spat. Regardless of the reasoning, it didn't make Llyr's move hit any softer, and Kenley braced against the kicked up dust, arms raised to shield his face as he turned away, eyes shut. It was not the hardest-hitting move ever, but Kenley also didn't have the best track record with leveling. He wavered a bit in his stance, stinging across wherever the wind had touched, but it was quickly blocked out. Rage was powered by the surge of adrenaline, and it wasn't allowing Kenley to even consider passing out unless Llyr did first.

Kenley stumbled back as Llyr shoved him away, but the motion only acted as a springboard. Wasn't that the move he used on Lyla to injure her back? "Again? You're a real piece of work! I suppose it would be hard to understand why someone would trust you," he hissed, stomping a foot once for emphasis on his next words, "Lyla, who else!?" He didn't wait for a response before rushing to tackle Llyr with another attempt to take him down, pin him where he couldn't cause anymore harm... though where harm could befall Llyr all the easier.

Kenley bristled at the sincere apology, likely the first time something like that had ever happened. He couldn't understand why someone would be so completely adverse to Lyla's personality quirks. Sure, sometimes it could get a bit annoying -- Kenley wasn't above admitting that -- but to such a severe degree? Nobody was without faults in their traits, and in the fury, he couldn't wrap his head around why that would make Llyr take such a violent approach to handling someone who had known him for a brother. Never mind he was taking the very same road based on hearsay, but Kenley put a lot more trust in Lyla's words than Llyr's, and nothing the butterfree had said thus far had even scratched the surface to make him reconsider; the words were just reprehensible.

Even if he felt like defending himself verbally, however, the silcoon couldn't get his mind to work that far; his sharp expression probably spoke better than his voice could have anyway. The height difference made the tackle a bit awkward, at nearly a full foot disparity, but it may have been just that reason that he was able to catch Llyr's follow-up move at all; it could have hurt a lot worse if Kenley hadn't moved to try to stop Llyr's leg at all. His mind could only focus on one thing at a time at present, so it wasn't until Llyr had snatched a wrist did Kenley realize his arms were moving at all. Even then, he was glaring and attempting to yank his arm free, realizing that had he not been quick to move himself, Llyr likely could have grabbed them both with one hand. Stupid girly wrists... He had completely forgotten that he had even brought the dagger at all, working to strengthen the wrappings around his arms in the hopes it would help him hit harder. Pausing in trying to escape his capture, he moved to pin Llyr onto the ground with a knee pressed to his stomach, testing the strategy on the butterfree's side instead, "Let me go!"

He was beyond enraged, that much was apparent. Coherency was slipping with every taunt that Llyr tossed out, but it wasn't until that cold laugh did Kenley hesitate, finding his voice in the process. "Crush..?" he blinked, flinching a bit, "What, is it so hard to believe that a friend would defend her?" Never mind that uneasiness, or the flushed coloring that had suddenly made its appearance... "Do you realize what kind of damage you caused? I don't think anything you were trying to protect her from could have justified what you did to her! She. Could. Have. Died!" He didn't get it; what hero worship? Did Llyr know the fundamentals of having a sibling at all? He scowled at the nickname, his tone taking on more of a reactionary shout, "Not anywhere near as annoying as you!" The condescension went far beyond anything Kenley had ever heard before, and for once, it wasn't aimed at him.

Truthfully, Kenley had never really been in a true battle as a poké-kid before, either. In fact, one could hardly say he had been in much of a battle as a full pokémon. However, Kenley did have one thing going for him that Llyr had been lacking at present: this wasn't a need to defend himself, but to defend someone else. Regardless of how mixed up the silcoon was getting about how to deal with it, and the differences between verbally and physically defending another, the fact of the matter was that the drive was all the same, even if it was inexperienced and indiscriminate. As much as Kenley may have been loathe to admit it, may even have been ignorant of it, the fact still remained... Lyla was actually someone he cared about.

In his distraction with trying to free his wrist from Llyr's grasp, Kenley was completely unaware of the dagger that had been relieved from his person. He had probably strengthened the wrappings on his arms two levels, tugging once more in an attempt to clumsily wrench his arm away as he ignored the butterfree's command. The lightweight boy leaned in harder with his knee, aiming a swing or two at Llyr's side with his free arm, as though to punctuate his prior request to let him go. Not that there was really any guarantee that Kenley would respect similar wishes once freed, but snapped anger was an illogical tool to wield, and there was no effort put forth to change that.

Kenley didn't remain silent, however, at least when focus was ensnared by Llyr's offhanded remarks and inability to see what he possibly could have done to harm Lyla, "I'm not overreacting, and if you stopped to care about anyone but yourself, you'd realize that!" It tore the silcoon's concentration away from the arbitrarily-posed battle, just enough for Llyr's movements to catch him slightly off-guard and hinder any further explanation of what he meant. Stumbling from where he once had the butterfree pinned, he lost balance and fell back onto the ground, bracing himself with a palm behind himself to keep from toppling over completely. It was Llyr mentioning that he didn't have the time to care that Kenley lost the last shred of inhibition he had, "So that's honestly how much you think of family? Friends? How you treat them all? If that's the case, it sounds like it's a good thing Penelope died; she didn't have to learn this side of you the hard way, like Lyla had to!" Self-preservation instinct was apparently taking yet another inopportune vacation.

Everything had happened so fast that Kenley felt as though he were comprehending things at half speed. His own parting words to Llyr hadn't even fully registered to the mind that had formulated them until the butterfree was already on top of him, driven by a rage he wasn't expecting to witness. Disbelieving, he spotted the dagger in Llyr's hand, and the weight of his miscalculated error started to sink in. He froze, deaf to Lyla's timid queries until she was already trying to take charge of the situation.

His heart was racing, but confusion was starting to muddy up his movements. Lyla had managed to get Llyr off of him, but the surprise at seeing the flood of emotion coming off of her, all that anger he didn't expect to be held in such a small body, he remained dumbfounded. Kenley could only stare as he sat himself back upright, startled as Lyla chipped in with her own move repertoire.

At least, his body refused to cooperate until he saw the blood, that is. Lyla's furious attacks were quick, and by the time the silcoon jumped to his feet, the flurry of punches had come to a stop. He was conflicted. As much as Kenley was bordering on murderous intent for everything that Llyr was, and had, done... there were some things that were just a little more important. "Ah! Lyla!" his voice was nearly jostled out of him merely by his quick steps toward the young ledyba as her balance was giving out on her.

Kenley reached out to grab her before she fell completely to the ground, scared and holding the girl tightly to him, arms wrapped around her shoulders once more. Everything was hitting too fast, and in too much quantity; he was panicking, terror manifesting as tremors through his body. He wasn't even sure if the berries he had grabbed for her were the right kind, or if the poison was still weakening her by the minute. He tried to wipe the blood from her face, but all it seemed to do was smear it more. "L-Lyla, Lyla, wake up!" the boy shook her lightly, his voice an urgent whisper.

Jolted by the sound of the dagger hitting the ground, Kenley turned attentions back to Llyr, just in time to see him retreat from the area. Part of him wanted to go after the guy, track him down, but he knew that now was not the time. The extra help would have been nice, though... he didn't know what he was supposed to do! "Coward!" he spat at the butterfree, a desperate and assuredly futile attempt to conjure up the aid from one chased off. His hands tightened around the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to lessen their shaking as he tried to lower her back to the ground more gracefully than her free fall would have allowed.

Despite all the clustered fear weighing down on him, Kenley froze as Lyla reached for his hand, to get him to stop trying to wipe the blood from her face. For a brief moment, the terror-torn nerves stopped their shaking, but it seemed to only be out of shock and just a little optimism. As her hand fell away, consciousness lost, his hand squeezed her's tightly in a catch, reactionary as he quickly pulled her closer to offset the dead weight of her limp body. It wasn't until she was lying more fully on the ground did he chance trying to speak, in dividing his primary attentions, "Lyla! Lyla, please, wake up!" He had taken to shaking her hand instead of jostling her by the shoulders, but it was to no avail.

Grasping onto what little hope he had, Kenley turned his sights back to where Llyr had run off, but his taunts hadn't seemed to bring him back. His teeth stabbed into his lip as his own shaking registered to his attention, but he shook his head as though to knock it from his system, as little as it did. With one last squeeze to Lyla's hand, he jumped to his feet and stumbled back over to where she had been resting previously. There had to be something he could do!

Standing at the tree that Lyla had been moments prior, Kenley's mind attempted to give out on him, the confusion setting in over the overwhelming fear. He steadied himself, a hand reaching up to his head to keep the surroundings from spinning. His breath was coming raggedly when he even bothered with it at all, and the sharp trembling was making him clumsy. No, focus -- focus! This was no time for a panic attack!

Pulling his hand from his head, he saw Lyla's blood that had soaked into the wrappings of his hand. He had to distance himself from over-thinking... If there was anything left that he could do to save Lyla, it wasn't going to happen without his attentions where they needed to be, where they were rarely located -- outside his own interests and affinity for selfishness. Scanning the scattered materials, he grabbed for the branch that held considerably fewer berries than it had since he had instructed Lyla to take them and reached for the ledyba's berry book, making sure it actually did look like the poison-curing berry he had been told about, and not one he associated out of haste. It looked the same... but there was no text saying whether it only worked on pokémon, or if it would also work on humans. What were they really considered now, biologically? Was it going to harm her, or still help her? Frustrated, he slammed the cover shut, "This isn't going to help at all!" Grabbing for the canteen, now mostly empty, and the wet fabric he had impulsively labeled a washcloth, he headed back to the clearing with it in tow. It wasn't much, but it was something... just so long as he could figure out a way to stave off death, if that was what he was dealing with.

Kenley was just a few steps from Lyla when she regained consciousness, nearly causing the silcoon to drop everything in his hands. No, he didn't do that until he was back at her side, crouching down and leaning over to catch her eyesight, surprised and making a scholarly effort to hide his fear. He waved a bit with one hand, then held up two fingers and a thumb, "...How many fingers am I holding up?" Noticing the flow of blood still hadn't stopped from the gash on the girl's jaw, he busied his other hand re-wetting the washcloth with the water in the canteen, fumbling for the cap and probably dumping about as much water onto the ground as actually soaked into the fabric with all the shaking. This was so annoying...