[PRP] Catch Me When I Fall (Shyam & Amaya) FIN

[Kyaishi]

Slightly dulled silver hues filled with a torrent of chaotic thoughts and emotions stared unseeingly out into the distant horizon, a soft sigh befalling her parted lips as the unikalona mare continued on a steady pace through the slightly rocky mountain terrain. Her wounds had scabbed over and were healing nicely, but her eyes were filled with nothing but uncertainty and confusion over her own desire to seek out the stallion that had sheltered her, even if only for one night.

As she had expected, he had left after she awoke... although Amaya was grateful for the fact that he had waited until she had regained consciousness, and not left her to wonder at his departure after she came back to herself. She had known he would leave, known that she couldn't stop him even if she had tried, and yet, it still saddened her to see him go.

She wondered if he felt any inkling of the same way at her absence... but then, he had been the one who had chosen to go, hadn't he?

A heavy sigh followed the softer one as her limping gait led her to the edge of a high precipice, the beginnings of a gorgeous sunset sending streaks of orange, red and gold through the brightened sky... but Amaya saw none of it.

What was wrong with her? He was an acquaintance, nothing more... not even a friend, from what he had implied. Just because she had felt some sort of misguided kinship towards him did not mean he felt the same... and just because she harbored the slightly twisted desire to bring his lost soul out of the darkness did not mean he would let her. He did not want her help, and she could do nothing to change his mind.

Her stance straightened slightly as she came to the inevitable conclusion that they would probably not meet again. Even if they were to cross paths once more, there was nothing to draw them together again. She could only do so much to heal one who did not want to be healed.

Blinking slowly as she forced her mind back into awareness, the dark mare gazed into the setting sun with a stare that was more melancholy than in most previous days, folded leathery wings shifting against her sides as she shifted her weight slightly. She wanted to fly, to glide upon the thermal winds again and leave all her doubts behind... but she wasn't sure she was strong enough to do so, yet. The wing that had dangled helplessly at her side after her attack was healed enough to rest at her side once more, but she was unwilling to test it needlessly.

There was still pain, but it was dull enough to ignore.

Settling into her position resignedly atop the cliff's edge, Amaya lifted her face to the gentle breeze and contemplated the ever-shifting purpose she had set for herself with the discovery of her healing abilities.  

[Uta]

So he had bitten off more than he could chew, fancy that. The stallion had put up a great show for the small herd, he had played his role to a perfect T. The small wind family had suffered greatly under his hoof, having not only seduced the daughter but their youngest son as well. He never would have suspected that the small band of warriors would have fallen prey to their darker halves so swiftly. . . or so easily. But the art of seduction hadn't been enough for Shyam, oh no. There was more to his lusts and gluttonous nature than just finding satisfaction is corruption of the innocent and naive. . . .

Oh, the days that he had lurked amongst their herd had also granted him with a need to feast. The fates had smiled upon hims since that eve he had met Amaya, and as such his luck had been plentiful. Not only had the small herd been easily manipulated but one of the resident mares had been pregnant and close due.

It was she whom he had finally attacked, it was she whom they caught being feasted upon even as she struggled in her last moments of life and cried out for her foal. Baby flesh was, after all, the most delicate. . . and Shyam ahd wasted no time in his meal. But it is here that Shyam grew sloppy. . . .

It was here that his confidence became his downfall.

The small herd he had studied had consisted of winds and half-breeds. Many of them had been manipulated and proven to be weak of mind, and while much could be said of their foolishness, it was with matters of the heart that he over looked. The devotion they had for one another was strong and the battle with father and son had soon escalated.

Two had fast become three and Shyam found that even his deepest wounds weren't falling the enraged family. Like the small birds that attack the hawk and raven, Shyam knew when even his prowress wasn't enough.

A shame for Shyam he had feasted so well upon meat and bone. . . While he was fast his chains and the recent meal he had eaten slowed him down just enough. An aeriel battle had taken place, with Shyam rising higher and higher, the evening clouds enveloping the three. But though he fought valiently, and even downed one of the winds, bringing his battle back to two. . . .

It just wasn't enough.

Yes, Shyam took a thorough and well deserved trashing. In fact, so beaten was the stallion that he knew very soon he would rise no more. His wings struggled to keep him held high, but he had no where to retreat and knew none would rescue him. He was stained in innocent soquili blood and his eyes held no remorse.

Another kick, a screech of protest, and the sharp snapping of bone was all it took. Even with four wings, all they needed to snap was the ligament and tendon upon either side. . .and it was with quick results that Shyam found himself falling. The two woundsd stayed high, watching his awkward attempt to right himself.

One red, one ebony wing lay useless and bashed, a trail of broken feathers following his descent like smoke. Out of the clouds, down, down, he struggled to glide even with his two good wings. But it was no avail . . . Tumbling, spirling now and then as he continued ot right his fall, Shyam felt little fear. . .

He would be well and truly dead in but a few moments. He would meet his kin and be punished anew . . . for even the sweet and succulent taste of death wouldn't give his soul reprieve. One pain would be replaced with that of another. . . Imagine that.

Shyam was exhausted.

Tangled within his chains, batted and broken, he fell. Did he regret his life? At one point he would happily argue no, he did not. . . He had given stories to the soquili around him, painful as they might be; he had caused them to appreciate the good and the life they had after he left. . .Did he regret his life? No. . . . . but as the ground rushed up to meet him, Shyam found that he would regret being unable to once again meet Ms. Amaya.

Such a pity he hadn't met her sooner. . . such a pity he would soon come to quite the messy and in all probably painful end.

 

[Kyaishi]

A strange sight befell her unfocused eyes as the mare stared curiously into the sky, squinting slightly as she tried to make out the form falling freely from the clouds, its form becoming clearer and clearer as it neared the dangerous ground below. Silver hues widened in immediate alarm as Amaya realized that it was not an object that was falling, but a soquili... and the blood drained from her face abruptly with the icy dread that shot down her spine as she finally recognized the identity of the bleeding victim, nearing his death on the rocky grounds below.

Shyam.

Without further thought to if her own wings would be able to handle the strain, she took a single step back before launching herself off of the precipice, body slanting in a graceful fall before her wings extended, and with a single powerful flap, she was speeding towards the falling red and black blur that she knew so little, and yet admired so much. The pain of using her injured wing was staggering, but she stubbornly endured, fangs sinking into her tongue to distract herself, pushing the leathery appendages to their limits to save the fallen angeni.

It was a startling image, to see him shooting towards the ground as he was, strength lost and magnificent wings drenched in blood... she supposed the term 'fallen angel' was never more fitting than it was in this moment. She found herself praying that not all of the blood was his... not even stopping to question if that went against her morals. Would it be better, if it was him that was injured instead of an innocent stranger? One who he might have attacked of his own volition?

Despite the startling amount of trepidation the thought caused her, she couldn't bring herself to say 'yes'.

Those thoughts were left behind her now, as she pushed herself to go faster, pump her useless wings harder, if only so she could reach him before he met his untimely death. She owed him that... she owed him a lot of things, even if he wouldn't agree... even if he didn't know. He had saved her that night, in more than one way... when she was questioning everything that she was, that everything she stood for was irrelevant in the face of her instinctual nature... he was there to prove her wrong. Not all of it was even entirely conscious, she was sure, but he had done it none the less.

And Amaya was never one to let a debt go unpaid.

"Shyam!" her voice rang out with more desperation and panic than she had heard from herself in a very long time. The familiarity with which she had addressed him didn't even cross her mind, lacking the customary 'san' she reserved for acquaintances that didn't give her the liberty of using their solitary namesake.

He was nearing the ground, now, and she was beginning to question if she would make it in time... but her stubborn will was not to be deterred. Spurring herself on against the burning pain and exhaustion with a burst of adrenaline, she reached his side in seconds, diving beneath his exposed back and flapping desperately to slow his fall. The effect was minute, though it did seem to be working... but the ground was coming up to meet them too quickly to completely avoid their crash landing.

In a panic-driven haze, she maneuvered her body beneath his own until she was falling belly-up beneath him, cradling his limp form in her bat-like wings in much the same manner he had done for her only a few nights ago. It occurred to her that even with their slowed descent, his weight might very well crush her, but in her frantic state, she couldn't bring herself to care.

If this was what it took to save him, metaphorically or physically, her life was his for the taking.

The impact was like a metal spike driven harshly up her spine, and she felt bones cracking as their combined weight landed upon the unyielding ground below. She felt one of her gauntlets crack , small metal pieces clattering uselessly to the ground a few feet away. A spray of blood erupted from her mouth as her head dropped to the side, her vision flickering as his heavy frame laid atop hers, unmoving, but alive.

"Shyam... san... daijoubu?"  

[Uta]

It was completely and utterly unexpected.

Though Shyam didn't fear death, and almost held a perverse curiousity about exactly what might befall him should his body succumb to such a thing, he wasn't looking forward to finding out. There was absolutely no way he was going to get out of his fall, especially with the ligament torn that allowed his two left wings to move. No, they were useless now. . . .

As it was, Shyam came to an understanding that the scenario was out of his control. It was no surprise that he found a battle he couldn't win, though his pride was genuinely wounded. They were nothing but winds and yet he had taken a severe beating. A shame he was losing his touch. . . .

On the other hoof, he had taken the life of both mother and foal and had feasted well. A good meal was all one really craved in his line of work and the feathered mother had indeed proven quite the feast. Succulent and sweet she was, as he fell, the stallion couldn't help but agree that overall the day was well. It was going to end painfully and possibly fatally but. . . . at least he had a good run and the savory taste of copper blood thick upon his tongue.

It was with closed eyes that Shyam faced his fate. . . . And though he did wonder about the black and silver unikalona, though Amaya did indeed permeate his final thoughts, never would he have expected her to appear.

It was only when he heard his voice call his name did crimson orbs open. Everything was a bit of a blurr, time having slowed as his eyes came face to face with her. The evening sunshine glinted off cold metal and he hadn't time to object as she placed herself beneath him.

What on earth was she doing!?! Did she not realize the fatality of her actions? Did she not understand that she would surely be crushed beneath his weight, doomed to death? How could she possibly save him, the murderous, lechorous creature that corrupted the innocent and ate babies for breakfast? Surely this shouldn't be the case. . . .

Surely she wasn't thinking clearly.

"Amaya- - - " He found his voice, though the wind whipped it away. His wings flapped a bit more desperately, trying hard to soften the blow that would come. There was little else he could say, wrapped in her leathery wings before the world came up to meet them.

CRUNCH.

Pain whipped through the stallion anew, even with Amaya beneath him. While she had softened the blow, gravity was still the ultimate winner. Bones and muscles that had been bruised, fractured and shattered ripped freely. . . newly. . . .Furthermore his weight sunk hard on to Amaya, pinning her hard beneath him. Some of her metal gouged in his flesh, but overall, she had taken the brunt of the blow. . .

And for what purpose?

The blood stained stallion could hardly comprehend the action she took. In fact, it not only confused but frustrated him. To see blood splattered upon her mouth, to feel her limp beneath him, Shyam found a fury renewed enter his spirit. It wasn't directed solely at her but at the winds that had caused Amaya to intervene - had they just killed him or he them this wouldn't be an issue.

But by the gods they would pay. . . .

For a few moments the stallion fought to find his breath. He wanted desperate to roll off of the mare but it wasn't easy. His muscles refused to listen and the pain he felt was agonizing. Ah, but what else was new? Pain was the story of his life. One moment passed, another and another before a desperation for keeping Amaya safe caused him to respond. Ears pinning, brows knit with frustration and concern, the stallion grunted and managed to roll off the mare. He didn't dare want to see what damage she suffered and thus kept his gaze only upon her neck and face.

"Ama. . .ya. . . . " He breathed, his words sluggish and weak.

Weak . . hmph. The knowledge of his own frail state caused his frustration only to grow, the fire inside burning with a rage renewed. This wasn't supposed to be the order of the day. . . .

His angel wasn't to have gotten involved.

She shouldn't have saved him. She should have just let him fall, for her sake and his own. By saving him she rocked his world further and caused him a new agony and uncertainty - this was most unnatural and not how the cards were to be played! Angels saved the fallen, yes, but he was too far gone for that. He was too corrupt to be worth anything to her, too dangerous, too much a liability.

She shouldn't have. . . . why, why, why!? It just didn't make sense or add up. She shouldn't have risked her life for his expensive. . . She was far too precious to be stained and broken so.

". . . .why?" He wanted to see how she faired, if she would even live. Unlike herself he had no healing ability - all his magics as an angeni had been revoked by the minute he had fallen from the rocky crevices years ago. The love of his life, Nimue, had let him fall; the one he had adored and given up his grace for hadn't been able to save him so what on earth was Amaya doing?

It didn't add up. . . at least not in Shyam's state of mind. There were pieces that were missing, pieces that he couldn't possibly understand. Sadly, now wasn't a time to speak of such things. Now he had to see how his ebony lady faired.

Shaking his head, dismissing his earlier question, he reached out with his neck to touch her cheek with his nose. "Don't die." It was an order, a command, and if she knew what was good for her she wouldn't dare misbehave. It was the only thing the stallion could think of saying, could fathom speaking amidst his own brokeness, his own pain, confusion and anger.

 

[Kyaishi]

Though she wanted desperately to meet his gaze, Amaya could not find the strength to lift her head.

A heavy breath was forced from her lungs when his weight pressed down on her, then expelled in a relieved sigh when it was gone, and she felt his warmth beside her. She was too dazed to do anything except shift her weight until she was lying on her side, breathing heavily as she fought her way back to comprehension.

She was alive, that much was clear... although a quick assessment of her own injuries told her that she wouldn't be getting up under her own strength for quite some time. She would have scowled at the idea of showing such weakness- but found she didn't have the strength. And, if she considered the alternative- sacrificing her temporary mobility for Shyam's safety was well worth the risk.

Bringing her attention back to the stallion at her side, she breathed a soft sigh of relief that at the very least, he was moving and speaking, until his uncharacteristically softened voice reached her ears. The whispered question tugged at her heart in a way she hadn't felt in ages, and she lifted saddened silver irises to meet his own as she considered how exactly to answer.

Was it so hard to believe, that someone considered his life worth saving? Did he think he was so low, so alone and unwanted, that his death would mean nothing to her- to anyone? She longed to reassure him that it wasn't true, that it truly mattered to her, if no one else... but if her previous attempts had been any indication, a direct approach would do no good. He was devout in his belief that he deserved no kindness, that he was doomed to suffer alone.

What would he say, if she told him that it was simply because she cared? That, for some reason, she felt some sort of connection with him, and was willing to do anything to protect it? Even if he didn't believe her words, the action itself should have eased his doubts... although she knew that it would not make them disappear entirely.

She took a shaky breath, considering her words carefully and offering a serene smile as the haziness cleared from her eyes enough to focus on his form. "I have never known anyone... quite like you, Shyam. A kindred spirit... a companion to my pain. I... confess... I've come to care about you." This time, she was completely aware of the absence of the honorific usually attached to his name. She wanted him to know that she thought of him as a friend, even if it wasn't reciprocated. She suspected that it would mean little to him, if he understood it at all- but it meant a great deal to her.

She neglected to mention that a small part of it was a personal debt that needed to be repaid- she would have done it anyway, but there was the added incentive that he was her guardian angel when she was wounded and weak, and she was obligated to return the favor. She suspected that if she brought this up, he might think it was purely a matter of honor that drove her to save him... and honor mattered little to Amaya right now, in the face of his trust and care.

Her chest shook lightly in a breathless chuckle at his vehement demand, a soft smile adorning her features beneath the iron mask as she forced a wing to move, brushing it up against his side in what she hoped was a comforting manner. She had survived similar incidents... it was doubtful that this would kill her, even if none of her prior experiences had been quite this bad. "I won't... if you won't." Her gaze fell to the gaping wounds bleeding freely on his own flesh, becoming serious again as worry and the desire to help, to take away his pain resurfaced.

She noticed that he had neglected to answer her question, until she realized that she had asked in her own tongue. She would have shaken her head at herself for the oversight, but she lacked the strength to move, instead struggling to keep the wing at his side extended, lightly brushing over various injuries that looked beyond painful. She almost cringed at the sight, but kept her facade of stoicism, speaking up in a breathy whisper. "Are you... all right?"

Without waiting for an answer, her expression twisted into one of intense concentration, a very faint glow emanating from her horn in the moments following- though it was flickering in response to her weakness. Still, she stubbornly continued, forcing her neck forward so she could touch the tip to the worst looking of his wounds- a bleeding gash across his neck.  

[Uta]

At least she spoke, albeit it was a struggle for her; at least she moved, though once again he was drawn to how weak and shaky such movements were. Thankfully she was a strong sort, and the crash hadn't been enough to crush her completely; her armor had helped, of course, but so did the mixed-breed blood running through her veins. Had she been any lesser of a soquili he might very well have been feasting upon her remains. . .

Such was the most proper burial Shyam could offer. To feast upon her would mean that no other scavenger or unworthy beast might touch her. Morbid as it was, such a gruesome thought only confirmed the fact that Amaya was slowly setting herself apart from all the rest. She was just a mare but there was something even more compelling about her that kept her outside and above all the rest.

Though he was silently relieved that she refuse to succumb to such a blow - he would never admit such a thing himself - the stallion soon found himself rendered speechless once again. Crimson eyes studied the mare before him, contemplating how best to respond to her admittance of care. . . They had met but a time before, surely he couldn't have resonated with her so severely and so unintentionally! Oh, he wouldn't have been surprised had he laid on the charm and had he attempted to seduce her as he did so many weak minded fools. . . . and yet not only had she rescued him from death but she claimed to care!

What a strange, strange mare she was. . . . and ow she left parts of hims flailing and screaming in protest. Snorting softly, blood dripping down his nose and staining his muzzle red, Shyam cracked an easy and fanged smile. "Look at how said... care... has left you," he started, reaching forward to brush the tip of his nose against her own, smearing her blood with his own. "Nothing but... hurt. . ." It was the stallions argument against such feeling. If she didn't understand pain, if she didn't clearly realize that suffering walked in his wake in some form or another, she would find out soon. . . .

It was his only objection. Silly mare, her feelings absolutely had to be a mistake. What were the spirits up to? Somehow Shyam was unsure he wanted to find out.

"Are you...all right?"

The stallion prepared to answer but found words refused to come. Weak as he was, he found the mare attempting to do the most ridiculous thing he could imagine - she was trying to heal him! Had she no sense of her own well-being and worth? Nostrils flaring, Shyam jerked himself away, taking a moment to hobble most ungracefully around her so she mightn't follow. "No." Once again, his voice held the commanding air, demanding her to respect his wishes. "Reserve your strength... for yourself...these wounds...will heal with time." Ah, but Shyam was no immortal. . . . Strong as he was, he was pushing the last of his own reserves.

Nausea and weakness washed over him, and it was with an irritated growl and grunt that he toppled forward, landing hard on his knees in a clanking of chains as he panted for breath. He was in no condition to much of anything and prowling about Amaya wasn't going to help his state.

Attempting to regain his composure, Shyam returned his glazed eyes over to the ebony and silver mare. Once again she was wounded, and once again blood stained the ground surrounding them. Perhaps not the prettiest scene, perhaps not the most romantic, but if there was one thing the vile fallen angeni could manage regardless his condition was charm. That he never lacked. . . "It is good to see you..." he spoke brokenly, though his sentiments were true. "Albeit the conditions . . . are less than favorable. . .once again."

She hurt, he hurt. . . Shyam did his best to keep his strength up, refusing to lower his head even amdist the agony and exhaustion threatening him. Oh did he hurt. . . Though his legs were all in tact, he was more than certain a few bones were out of place within his ribcage and the gaping wounds from his previous fight were all too apparent. Ooooh, and heaven forbid he look at his back and frayed wings!

Hmph. The small herd of winds had only a matter of time. . . might they count and cherish everyday and every breath. Rest assured he'd be back to finish the job later.



 

[Kyaishi]

A bittersweet grin spread across her features at his whispered words of reprimand, as if he could convince her not to care, simply because it was bad for her health. As if that would deter her. Perhaps he thought it might- but she was determined to set him straight on that. "Since when... does caring about someone... have to be conditional?" This was something she would not let up on. His steadfast conviction that no one cared or should care for him was going to change, whether he wanted it to or not.

"Whether it... brings hurt or not... it's my choice to make. My own risk to take."

It wasn't as if the risk wasn't double-sided... by simply accepting her presence, he was inviting his own demise. She was dangerous, as much as he was... perhaps more, if one were to take into account her inability to control her darker instincts. If she were strong enough to control her carnivorous impulses, perhaps she wouldn't be such a danger to others... but she refused to think of that now. Now, his doubts took precedence.

Silver hues flickered upwards in surprise as he jerked back from the healing touch of her horn, almost wincing as she watched him stagger and stumble before falling to his knees once more. A snort of exasperation, irritation and worry escaped her lungs at his stubbornness, though she could not find the strength to get up and follow. Settling for a mild glare instead as the glow faded, she brought one leg out from under her form and braced it in front of her.

"That pride... will be the death of you, one day."

Once she had recovered enough to stand, she would heal his wounds, willingly or unwillingly if necessary. The amount of blood was startling, although she could not tell how much of it was her own, his, and the victim's that she assumed he had acquired the injuries from. The coppery scent teased at her nostrils- and if she were at her full strength, she would be fretting over the emergence of her kalona half. At her current state, though, it wasn't much to be concerned over.

Her aggravation faded entirely into worry, however, as she continued to observe his weakness and deteriorating health before her eyes. A soft cooing noise escaped her mouth as she lowered her head to lap gently at a wound on his shoulder within her reach, the only thing she could do in this bleak situation, besides hope that he would be all right.

"What happened?"  

[Uta]

The stallion heard Amaya's words but once again couldn't help but dismiss them. If she wanted to speak about stubborness and pride meant she had to see it within herself. The mere fact she continued to express some sort of feeling towards him, and without his manipulation to drive it, was stubborness within itself. Though this was their only second meeting, she had mentioned on multiple times that she . . . . cared. And such a thing caused the stallion to dance along lines of insecurity, confusion and an unwillingness to accept her emotion.

He was damned...

Why couldn't she see that? Why didn't she care about such a title, about his lot in life?

Perhaps it was his upbringing that haunted him. Shyam remembered his past, fractured as it was, and knew that the crimes he committed were unforgiveable. Even if the heavens had turned their backs upon him, he knew he turned his back upon himself. Everytime he killed he made the choice, he felt no remorse or regret. He truly was a monster without the cliche anger and hatred for the world; he killed because he could, and because it kept him falling, falling, falling. . . .

Amaya couldn't care because that would put her, his angel, on a level all his own. And to Shyam such a thing was completely and utterly unacceptable. She was too good to be placed where he wandered, where he fell. He was a stain.

Still, Shyam wasn't completely oblivious to the truth in her words. It was her choice, and her choice alone, that allowed her to feel something for him. Though he might find her train of thought along the lines of disillusion, with disappointment and change fast to follow, it was her choice. She could change her mind at any moment and he might as well allow her such a thing. . . Hell, if she didn't change her mind after finding out the details of his wounds, maybe there was a spark of hope.

Giving his head a little shake, and attempting to keep himself from losing his composure any further, the stallion once again dismissed her worry. He grinned mildly at her, fangs gleaming at her reprimend and glare. Surely she couldn't stay cross at him for long. . . . As if she wouldn't have been just as stubborn! She was weak, crushed, and now she wanted to heal him?

Hell no.

Let her sulk as he stared at her - so long as she wasn't wasting her energy he would be content to lie before her. Slowly, slowly the stallion allowed his head to rest upon his forelegs, too weak to bother to rise again. He kept his glazed, crimson gaze upon the ebony mare before him, a bemused expression lingering upon his features.

Well. . . .he wasn't known to lie. Not to her at least.

"A mere squirmish. . . . . I underestimated. . . my prey." She hadn't asked for details and he was mostly honest. He hadn't expected to be ganged up upon nor for the winds to be so fierce in their objection to his crimes against the mare and unborn foal. He had every right to feast. . . . a shame they couldn't appreciate a taste for blood.

 

[Kyaishi]

She could almost hear his thoughts, through the look on his face, the hidden desolation behind those crimson irises. Was he so devout in his isolation that he would push away the only hope, the only kindness that she could offer him in his darkest moments? The thought was disheartening, but it only strengthened her desire to make him feel wanted, to make him feel as though there was at least one soul that needed his guidance, his presence... and even as the glow from her horn faded completely, the light was reflected in her silver hues.

Though the truthful admission about the origin of his wounds made her pause briefly, she resumed her cleaning of his wounds with meticulous care after a moment. Her calm dismissal of the event surprised even herself, and it did bother her more than she showed... but she could not begrudge him for something that was in his nature. Whether he actually needed blood and flesh to survive as she did- though not as much as her full-blooded kin- she did not know, but if kalona were to be excused from their malicious practices against other soquili, why couldn't he? Though she was not aware of a reason that he might need to feed on others, that didn't mean that there wasn't one.

A soft sigh escaped her lips at the turmoil of her thoughts, the warm breath stirring the soft fur surrounding the wounded flesh she had been cleaning. Perhaps there wasn't a reason, and perhaps she would never know... but even knowing what he had done, and that she disagreed with his actions, it didn't change her desire to help him, to see him smile, to see him full of light and hope instead of darkness and torment. Was it so unfathomable, that she cared? He had saved her, perhaps from a worse fate than the one that she had rescued him from.

What more was there to say? She had admitted that she cared, and still he refused to believe it. Perhaps if she were a bit more accepting, a little less stubborn and motivated, she might have given up then and there, and left him to his own devices as he so vehemently wished. Her heart, however, would not allow her to even consider this option, for reasons that even she herself could not fully understand.

"Well... let us hope... that you will not make... such an oversight in the future, ne?"

The nonchalance of the simple sentence was not as faked as one would have believed, though she had difficulty understanding the transition herself. She discarded the unwelcome thought with a shake of her head, finally relaxing a bit more as her breathing evened out, even as wracking coughs shook her smaller frame, the moisture of blood in her lungs rattling into her throat. The pain was minute, having subsided after the coughing fit had passed, although she knew it meant that she would be forced to take it easy for an indefinite amount of time after this. Her brow wrinkled in distaste beneath her mask at the thought, but she focused her attention on him instead.

Her gaze softened, as it had done many times in the past few days, as her eyes settled upon his dark features. An unexplainable emotion was stirring in her heart, and in sudden fear she squelched it, tearing her gaze away from him and redirecting it to the bloodstained grass instead. Her chest heaved in overwrought panic as she fought to regain control of her emotions, silvery orbs wide in confusion.

What was that?  

[Uta]

Shyam said nothing, unable to properly grunt a response as the mare admonished his foolishness. He wasn't often so careless but pride had reared its ugly head - there was no foe that could best him, or so he frequently believed, but this day had proved him wrong. He was no god, he was no angel, he was in fact mortal and just as disposable as the next beast to walk in a trap. He had been greedy this day and such a sin had caused him a great price.

The stallion wanted to move. Though pain wracked his body, though the taste of blood coloured his tongue, he knew he was far from strong enough. The winds had been stupid to allow him to fall without finishing him off. . . They had turned to nurse their own wounds, or so he assumed, as no army of feathered beasts had followed him down. Either that or they were regrouping their numbers to make sure he was as good as dead. <******** of where the herd of winds had gone, it would soon be necessary to move. Shyam wasn't concerned about his own demise, but there was someone here that he truly did not wish to see wounded. There was another here whose life he decided he didn't want to see end. . . . at least not by the hooves of unworthy and most wretched winds. Peculiar and more peculiar was the idea of Amaya's death to Shyam. . . he cared little for his own life, or those of others, and yet he very much was irritated by the thought of her stained bloody and broken.

No, she was a deserving one, and one of the very rare few. She was intriguing, more so than the other mares he had met. . . . But what was it about her that made her so different? Why did he not want to eat her? She was still a practical stranger, and would definitely be worth the fight should he decide to hunt her as prey. . . but. . . . well. . .

He liked her alive more than dead. In fact, he didn't see her as prey at all! (At least in the literal sense). Snorting softly, blood trickling out of his nose and staining his silver ring, Shyam decided there was nothing more to think. He had to keep his ears open for movement - their blood would once again draw a crowd.

About to comment about the irony of blood being spilt everytime they crossed paths, the words died on his lips as the uni-kalona heaved. Though she said nothing, though she lay still and her body wracked with coughs, he watched as her breathing increased. She wasn't gasping for air, but . . .her entire body language had shifted from one thing to another. Instead of being relaxed, albeit in pain, she almost seemed to read off as defensive.

"Tell me what hurts," he commanded lowly, voice strained but oddly sincere. "Or have you finally come . . . to your good . . .senses about me?" Shyam was fast to assume that the way she looked away from him, avoided his gaze, meant one thing and only one thing - she was ashamed to be in his presence. Unlike many, the unikalona was strong and unafraid; she was something more pure and good than he, something untouchable. . . to be placed beside him, to save a life not worth saving, well. . . . she must only recently figured out her err.

 

[Kyaishi]

Immediately she stiffened at his words- not in any semblance of guilt for being caught as he might have thought, but in alarm that he might somehow realize the true meaning behind her sudden panic attack, that he might laugh or shun her for it. Feelings like these... she had learned early on that any sort of attachment was bad... undoubtedly, at least one of them would suffer for it. No, it was better to get the foolish notion out of her head now, before he had a chance to realize what it was- before it did either of them any harm.

Her mind was made up on this matter, but for some reason, her heart refused to hear of it.

Damn it, hadn't she learned her lesson yet? She had left her hahaue for this reason... not only was she a danger to those around her, she was also a target. There were those who hated her, simply for what she was... those who considered her life unworthy. Passing companionships, while not advisable, were conceivable as long as she didn't venture too close, spend too much time, allow them too close to her heart. And if this was the sort of attachment that she suspected it was... her foolishness knew no bounds.

And yet... even knowing this, even understanding as she met his gaze once more that it would be in both of their best interests for her to agree with his misconception, to pretend that she couldn't stand his presence so that they would both be safe from harm... she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew things could very easily spiral out of control from here because of her own weakness, and that justifications like the one she provided herself with now were a beginning to a multitude of excuses... one more day... one more smile..., could very easily get someone killed.

Would she be able to carry his burden on her shoulders as well?

Grief and sadness flooded her at the thought, and though she knew that the kinder solution was to simply let him believe what he thought, to separate themselves... some selfish part of her heart wouldn't hear of it. Instead, she found her eyes lifting themselves to meet his, her mouth opening of its own volition to answer his former question in a way she knew he wouldn't understand. "Ore chuushin." 'My heart.' The words were almost inaudible, but they would make little difference with no translation.

With a soft sigh, she lifted her stare to meet his crimson gaze once more, offering a wry smile in response to his words. "I have come to the conclusion that... you need looking after. It's obvious you apparently have no experience in doing it yourself." 'Please forgive me,' the unspoken plea made her heart twist in her chest, hoping that she was not condemning him to something that either of them would regret from pursuing this. Just a little longer... she wanted to be selfish, for once. She was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of the isolation.

Maybe, somewhere deep down in that barricaded heart of his, he was too.  

[Uta]

The stallion's ears shot forward as Amaya muttered her response. It was quiet and strained, and something he might have easily over looked had he not focused solely on her and her well being. But what on earth was she blabbering on about? Ore chuushin? What the hell was an 'or-ray chu-shin'? The stallion was no linguist and found a sliver of irritation at such discovery; he had no idea what that was and didn't care to be made a fool of. BUT, where he might have growled in annoyance at any other mare, it was Amaya who had spoken and if she was playing him a fool now, he might as well run with the part.

Smiling a toothy smile, the stallion stretched out his neck and gently nosed underneath her chin. "Your chin, you say?" Slurred was more like it, if he was looking for an excuse. Chuushin sounded close enough to the alleged offending part. "Well, you have taken quite a tumble, but," he paused to gasp a breath himself, remembering that he wasn't anywhere close to being healed. " . . .but may it find swift recovery so it mightn't pain you so." One last little nuzzle to her chin and Shyam released a breath, dropping his head once again to the ground.

Now now, what was all this? He needed looking after? Snorting, and swiftly regretting it, the male allowed his crimson gaze to focus upon her. "My dear lady, I am a stallion, and as you can see, I am entirely capable of looking after myself." Pride had to cause his feathers to ruffle, even if amusement coursed through his bloodied being. "Well, perhaps now isn't the best time to search for proof in the matter," he admitted as he glanced down to his blood stained hooves. Coyly, ever so charmingly and innocent, he added, "But if such a thing is true, are you offering yourself for such a task?" No, she most certainly couldn't. . . . could she?

Oh, it was all too confusing. They spoke in games now, in jest, and she no further meant it than he wanted to believe. So a mare wanted to care for him, she wasn't the first to think such a thing; Shyam understood he was a manipulative being who was fabulous when it came to playing hearts. But he hadn't tried to play hers, at least not intentionally, nor did he want to. . . There was something about the unikalona that caused him to hesitate, to refrain. He didn't want her to be just another nameless, useless victim. . . In fact, quite abruptly the truth showed face - when around the kalona he found he stoped thinking of his mysterious her; of the one he had given his heart, of the one he'd been cursed to forget.

Strange, really. . . . . Or was there a reason behind it?

Snorting once again, Shyam decided not to dwell on such things. They would only further confuse and frustrate him. Despite his good humor and amused nature, his mood was in tatters from the fall and his lost fight. It wouldn't take much to truly rile the beast. Gritting his teeth, Shyam chose to focus on pain. With a swallowed back snarl, the stallion flailed a bit until he had managed to get himself to his feet.

Oh gods did it hurt. . . . but lying still would be the death of them both. Ears flicking, he stared down at the tattered and blood stained mare. If itwas painful for him, it would be just as rough for Amaya. "Get up," he ordered lightly, heaving a shuddered gasp, "We'll have to move else others decide to feast upon our bones," he'd protect them with all he could should a new monster appear. . . but sadly, at this point, he had very little left in reserve.

It was best if they sought shelter elsewhere.

 

[Kyaishi]

Her brow rose in subtle amusement at his apparently deliberate misinterpretation of her words, but she said nothing to correct him. Let him believe what he wanted... she supposed it was much too early for him to hear what she really had to say, anyway. She didn't miss the tiny nuance of irritation that crossed his features beforehand, either, and suppressed the urge to smile at the slight frustration.

She did smile, however, at the gentle nuzzle beneath her chin, resisting the instinct to close her eyes and simply enjoy the sensation. She knew there were more important things at hand- the flirtation could wait, no matter if it was harmless. The both of them were in pitiful condition- a fact that was further cemented in her mind as her ears caught wind of his pained gasp. Her smile was pulled downwards, ears laying back a bit in displeasure as she further assessed the situation.

She wanted to heal him, damn it, not just sit here... but she knew he wouldn't allow it, even if she were capable. Damn his pride and concern for her... although she knew that was hypocritical and ungrateful, she was more concerned with his well-being than social niceties at the moment.

Incredulity quickly flooded her at his egotistical proclamation that- of course he could take care of himself- her assistance wasn't required, and her ears flattened back again in anger and embarassed preparation to defend her decision. As he questioned her afterwards, however, metallic hues blinked a few times in incomprehension before the words finally registered. He didn't know what she had offered. Was offering. Or if he did, he didn't believe it. He was inquiring jokingly, as if it was a laughable conclusion. She wasn't sure whether to be offended or concerned, so her response bordered on defensive.

"What if I am?" her tone spoke of challenge and defiance, daring him to question her. Silver met crimson in a serious stare, an attempt to convey that there was no jesting behind her words. She meant what she said, and he would do well to take it seriously.

The sudden movement startled her out of her self-imposed mission as his eyes left hers, her mouth opening in soundless protest as he struggled to his feet. What was he doing? She knew he had to be in enormous pain- his expression alone told her as much, even though she knew him to be a master at hiding it. The blood dripping to the ground beneath him did more than worry her- it terrified her, and she wanted nothing more than to make it stop, to force him to lie down until she could heal him to the point where she no longer had to look at that awful cringe... but she understood his logic, after a moment of forced, clear thought.

They were targets out here, especially with the enemies Shyam had encountered out for his blood, and the coppery scent of the red fluid was sure to attract other predators.

Reluctantly, excruciatingly, she obeyed, forcing her legs under her heavy form, pushing her hardest against the solid ground beneath her and withholding her own pained gasps. She heard, felt, bones grind and crack, shift in ways they weren't supposed to, and grit her teeth in torment as her form finally began to lift upwards, sweat staining her fur from the effort. Her breath came out in gasps as she stumbled once, using her wings for balance as they flapped to steady her, a low growl of determined focus rising in her throat as she finally regained her footing.

Panting raggedly as she took a shaky step forward, the mare lifted her head to observe the surroundings, gesturing to Shyam a moment later in one direction with a toss of her head. "Caves... this way." She was unable to say much else, though she wanted to... but she supposed there would be time enough for it later, provided he didn't run off again as soon as he was able.

She sincerely hoped he'd reconsider this time.  

[Uta]

Shyam watched as the mare struggled to her feet. He couldn't help but compare their situation with the pitiful creatures he often destroyed; they'd struggle and fight for the right to life even as he laughed and knocked them down again. Yes, the fallen enjoyed the games of cat-and-mouse but only when he was the dominant predator. With the tables so easily turned, the stallion felt as if he were sitting on the defensive and wanted nothing more than to move.

Funny how it wasn't just blind selfishness on his part. He wanted nothing more than for his broken companion to be safe too. Only now did he regret losing what minimal healing abilities he had once possessed; how he could have eased her suffering and caused her to feel a touch more comfortable. Then again, she'd probably object at such a thing seeing as he refused aid from her own magic.

. . .funny how things worked. It was almost uncomfortable how unselfish he was feeling at this point. And why was it always around Amaya? What was it about her that caused him to feel so . . . so . . . . . so good!? The spirits were toying with him, mocking him he was sure; he was a monster, a beast, and she were some angel come down. . . .

Well ******** the heavens.

He wouldn't let them make a fool of him. And not so obviously either. "If you meant . . . . what you said, m'dear," he finally spoke his words slower as he tried to keep himself on his feet. No need to look silly and weak in front of her, certainly not. He was Shyam - he was never weak. "Than we shall discuss it. . . at a later date." He offered her an amused grin, crimson eyes lighting for just a moment at the thought. So she really did mean it. . .?

. . . . nope. She just plum couldn't; it was lip service or the gods trying to throw him for a loop. Shyam knew who he was and Amaya knew damn well too. There were plenty of other males she could care about or look after. . . She'd truly do better with one of them.

The fallen's conversation did die as Amaya began her trek to the direction of the caves. Honestly the stallion didn't know what to think much less what to do or say except urge his feet to take one step at a time. He truly was weak and felt as if he were just mere breaths away from passing out. He'd lost a lot of blood and had pushed himself too far as it stood. But what was a little more pain and a little more agony to Shyam? That was his fate. . . . Even now, the metal, blood-stained chains around him burned upon his back and sides; that was a pain he would never forget or grow accustomed to. That was an agony he'd always bear.

The striped stallion did push his way closer to Amaya. In case she needed a little support and, secretly, in case he needed a little extra himself. How far the cliffs were he had no idea. . . But he could only hope he'd make it without stumbling or collapsing. He could be struck down at any moment and worse, something even more terrible could lurk within the heart of these woods; no, he wasn't going to sacrifice Amaya's safety because of his own blood-lust. . . . No, he'd make sure he stayed on his hooves until they found comfort in some secluded hillside.

Step by step, breath by breath, Shyam walked.

((I know I didn't give you much to work with. . feel free to pose them getting to some sort of shelter. ; D Though I think Shyam is going to pass out soon as they arrive. ))  

[Kyaishi]

A small, tentative smile slowly crept across her bloodstained maw at his quiet acknowledgement of her offer, though it faltered at the slightly disbelieving tone it acquired halfway through. Did he still doubt her? Hadn't she proven already that it was genuine concern for his well-being that kept her by his side? An exasperated sigh was heaved as she fought the urge to roll her silver eyes at his obtuseness, but she said nothing more. Let him think whatever made him comfortable- in the end, she would prove him wrong.

A brief stumble hindered her efforts as a winded gasp escaped from the sharp pain the jar caused, but she kept her footing, noticing with a wince that he was encountering similar problems, though he was doing his damndest to hide them. Side-stepping over until she was pressing against his side, she ducked under two of his bloodied wings- that were lighter and softer than she had suspected them to be, despite the bloody mess- and draped them over her back, keeping them pinned their with her opposite leathery appendage, encouraging him to let her carry some of his weight.

She knew he was proud, and probably outraged at her insinuation that he needed help with something as simple as walking- a feeling she could well relate to- but she hoped that he would just accept it. Neither one of them were in any condition to be on their feet, and she didn't know if she could deal with his stubbornness at this point in time.

Every step was agony. Sharpened fangs dug into the delicate skin of her lower lip as she struggled forward, steadfastly ignoring the cracking and shifting of bones that she knew were broken. Blood dripped from her mouth as her jaw tightened, silver hues focusing intently on the landscape before them for any sign of salvation.

She had been here before. Months, perhaps years ago, this place had been her sanctuary, away from prying and disapproving eyes. The cliffsides had been her solace, where she could look out over the horizon and simply pretend that her burden did not exist. The irony of his presence there didn't escape her attention.

"There," merely a breath of relief, almost a sigh, escaped her lips as her gaze fell upon the small opening in the stone crevices, barely big enough for the two of them. It wasn't the most pleasant of places, dark and probably damp from the recen rainfall, but it was out of the open, and probably secluded enough to keep their heavily bloodstained scents from prowling creatures. A tiny smile in triump graced her mouth as her steps lengthened a bit, anxious to get them both to safety.

Death would not find either of them tonight. She would make sure of it.