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 Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2016 6:16 pm
He winced at her words, hating himself for offering the alternative in the same breath. To heal her, he would have to hurt her ... and she was already in so much pain. (He had not missed her sharp inhale or change in expression.)
Still, it was their only viable option. The creature would come back - whether that was now or later depended on the whimsy of a mad demon. He couldn't waste any more precious time debating what was essentially a done deal.
"Cetra..." Her name, whispered against her neck as he lowered his horn. "I'm sorry."
And he plunged the sharp point directly into the large muscles of her shoulder. Sinking a third of the horn's length into her flesh, he closed his eyes and focused. Somewhere, beneath the haze of her pain that he now felt was the essence of the wind mare herself. A net of energy and life so similar to his own, all he needed to do was find the broken strands...
It took time and a few false starts, but he found and began the process to Heal her shoulder, then moved on to her leg. It took more energy from him to find the required 'strands' from his current location, but he refused to cause her any more pain then was absolutely necessary. Once the process had begun for her leg, he withdrew, drawing out his horn and healing the injury inch by inch until he was free.
Drawing breath, he kept his eyes closed for a long minute - slowly letting the remembered pain fade lest it trigger the other side of his nature.
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2016 6:33 pm
His pre-emptive apology stirred a desire to refute the offering, to tell him that there was nothing to apologize for, that there was no need for his guilt, but before she could even gather her thoughts enough to speak, she felt him nosing her injured shoulder again. It was enough to make her draw in a sharp inhale as she could feel him preparing to make the move to stab- and that was odd to even think, honestly, the idea that he was stabbing her when it was meant to heal- and she resisted the urge to tense, knowing that it would only hurt more if she gave in.
The knowledge that it was coming still didn't prepare her for the reality, however, and she was unable to completely suppress the grunt of pain as his horn pierced her flesh and drove into the injured muscle. She shut her eyes tightly and ground her teeth, waiting a few agonizing moments before the tingling relief of healing magic finally began to work at the bones- initially painful, but gradually fading as the bone mended. Cetra didn't dare make more of a noise than that- not simply by virtue of avoiding drawing the beast back here, but also out of care for Gen. He was clearly hating this, perhaps even more than she, and it kept her from reacting as much as she was tempted to.
Slowly, carefully, an onyx and red-feathered wing spread to lay across his shoulder and back, hopefully as reassuring to him as it was to her, to feel his solid presence beside her.
She let out an exhausted, panting breath when the tingle of his magic began to fade, but his horn didn't withdraw. She halted to recover a moment, but there wasn't more than a heartbeat before she felt the tingle spread down to her injured leg, and she grit her teeth with a soft noise of pain she couldn't quite suppress. The healing process of the bones there was much more painful, misaligned as they were, and it took much longer before she felt the soothing relief of the bones mending. By then, she was sweating, panting with the effort of keeping quiet and not drawing more attention to her pain, and she all but collapsed against him as he finally withdrew, healing the entry wound as he did, and lifted his head.
Weak as she felt, her limbs felt strong, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had done it. There was never any question there- she trusted him implicitly, although she knew that he probably trusted himself less.
"Thank you, Gen," she let out a relieved breath, pressing her forehead to his neck for a moment as she gathered what remained of her strength. "And you don't need to apologize. Ever."
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2016 6:49 pm
His own coat was dripping with sweat when she leaned against him and uttered her thanks. Blinking, breathless, he could only nose her affectionately before he slowly got to his feet.
"Let's go. Borrowed time." He whispered, still panting. Healing took a lot out of him, far more than simply disemboweling his opponents would have, but seeing the relief on her face made it all worthwhile. So far, their luck was holding. If only it would hold a little longer.
"Lean on me. We go."
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Posted: Sat Mar 26, 2016 7:17 pm
 It was a lovely hunt.
The deranged grin upon the catwalker's bloodied maw was undiminished by the carcass hanging from her jaws or the excessive blood that stained her white pelt- if anything, it only increased the pleasure she felt at the satisfying kill of the small raccoon she'd snagged in the damp forest. It had made the most pleasing sounds as she'd tortured it, torn the flesh from its bones and rent its limbs until they cracked in her mouth. There was beauty in its death, and she would find greater pleasure in her meal as she returned to her latest toy.
The idea of feasting upon the rosette mare's flesh instead made her salivate, but then her fun would be over, and she wanted to draw out the games she played with her as long as possible. The mare had put up quite a fight, initially, even though she'd taken painstaking care to lure her into submission before pouncing on her. Still, she'd not been much of a challenge, even with the tactics she'd used to avoid the more damaging blows. Illari had been stalking her from a distance as she followed what she thought had been an old trail, waiting for the perfect time to swoop in and grab her for a meal- but the fun she'd had in trapping the mare, as well as the fight she'd put up, had convinced her that she could have so much more fun toying with this one, so she'd held off on killing her.
Now, returning to her den with her latest prize, it looked like there might be even more fun to be had.
There was a crimson stallion standing guard at the entrance to her home. Rather than becoming angry that her toy might be taken away from her, she dropped her kill and grinned brightly at the thought of expanding her game. She could smell, even at this distance, that there was another intruder in her cave, and while it brought her bloodlust closer to the surface, the thought of making her toy suffer even more by eviscerating her would-be rescuers would be even more delicious of a prize. The coloration of this one, the markings on his face told her that he was probably related to her, and Illari nearly quivered in anticipation.
Without further preamble, she bounded forward on light paws, already baring her fangs as she came into view of the guard stallion, though her bright, insane smile didn't waver in the slightest. She was unable to silence the loud shout of warning he gave to alert the dwellers of her cave to her presence, but she was unconcerned- a bite to the scruff of his neck offered her enough leverage to take him down, and it was a simple matter of holding her paw to his throat until he stopped struggling.
Almost disappointed with the ease of the takedown, the walker frowned in dissatisfaction as she lowered her head to sniff at him- still breathing. Good, it was too early for him to die if she was going to have any fun with him- if he didn't prove an interesting toy, then she would kill him. Or perhaps if he made a nuisance of himself.
Snorting at his limp body, she raised her head to peer into the darkness of the cave's entrance, grin returning in full force as she spoke in a sing-song voice.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
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Posted: Wed Mar 30, 2016 6:13 pm
His ears registered the shout.
Flicking them forward, his head came up as exhaustion receded in the face of what was quite possibly the worst thing that could possibly happen. Momentarily frozen he quickly took stock of the situation. At his side, Cetra. Weak, but on her feet. Ahead, Rubedo. Strong, but not a threat to a purewalker. Himself, tired from the Healing ...
Right, skinwalkers had an excellent sense of timing. Hadn't he learned this by now?
Growling low in his throat, Gen mantled his wings and separated from Cetra - the plan already forming in his mind. She could move, barely. Rubedo, whatever state he was in, would just have to help her get back home. As for him?
Reaching daylight, Gen's markings flared as logic and reason took a back seat to the violence singing in his veins.
He would fight.
Spreading his wings, Gen fanned them threateningly and reared back - forelegs slicing the air in a territorial display - then abruptly charged the pale pelted female.
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