05-31-2021, 01:04 AM
Ryatah
She does not often get strange feelings, but tonight something draws her away from the area of Hyaline she has always considered to be theirs. That corner of rock and tree that most stayed away from, often deciding they did not want to deal with the panther stallion that was rarely in the mood for company. It was the first time in a long time that she had anywhere—or anyone—that felt like home, and she was reluctant to part from it. But because she did not choose to leave often, she missed things happening within the kingdom. She knew Maze was supposed to have twins thanks to her conversation with Agetta, and she had grown to recognize the man that was often with her, but other than that she was mostly in her own world.
She is willing to leave her world just briefly, hoping to put her worries to rest.
Hoping that as she steps out beneath the moonlight that illuminates the dark land in front of her that she will find that all is as it should be, and that perhaps it was just the lingering effects of the eclipse that made her feel restless.
The silver light of the moon washes across the surface of the lake, lighting it up until the surrounding mountains and trees reflected off of it.The lake was the heart of the kingdom, the pulse of it calling her forward, and it is there that she finds the fallen form of Mazikeen, and an unfamiliar figure worriedly next to her.
She feels her heart lodge in her chest because even from where she stands she can see there is far more blood than the last time that she had healed her. And even though Sela isn’t here she cannot bear the thought of having to tell him that she was not able to save Maze a second time.
Quietly, she approaches the pair, and though she says nothing she knows her presence would be hard to miss. Her own glow rivaled the moon with its brightness, though the light that radiated from her was far more golden. With the stardust the trailed from the ends of her wings draped against her sides she could have been a vision if not for the worry so plainly written across her face. “Maze,” she says softly, looking first at the blood-soaked and torn girl on the ground. She sees that her eyes are missing, and her chest clenches tight with an indescribable emotion, inspiring a phantom throbbing behind her own. There is a large wound across Maze’s pale chest too, and heat flashes across her lips in memory of all the times she had traced the scar left behind from a similar wound on Atrox.
She looks to the other mare, offering a thin smile before introducing herself, “My name is Ryatah. I’m a friend of Agetta’s, and Maze, too.” The other girl was clinging to Maze protectively, but she takes a slow step forward anyway. “I can heal her,” she tells her gently, taking another step forward, until she is close enough to touch Maze, and she reaches for her.
She concentrates on her chest, first, working to close the large, gaping wound. She is certain that it will scar, thinking that she had not gotten here in time, but there is little she can do about it now. Her pale nose sweeps up to her face then, enveloping the empty, bloodied sockets with the golden warmth of her healing. That first time in the dale when Carnage had torn out her eyes she had been lucky that a healer had been nearby, and she had only stood in shock for a few short moments with blood pouring down her porcelain-white face.
“Who did this to you?” she says quietly against her skin as she finishes up the last of the smaller wounds. It seemed unlikely for this to be an attack from the creatures that had roamed during the eclipse. To go for the eyes and the heart, it felt personal—and no one knew that better than her.
She is willing to leave her world just briefly, hoping to put her worries to rest.
Hoping that as she steps out beneath the moonlight that illuminates the dark land in front of her that she will find that all is as it should be, and that perhaps it was just the lingering effects of the eclipse that made her feel restless.
The silver light of the moon washes across the surface of the lake, lighting it up until the surrounding mountains and trees reflected off of it.The lake was the heart of the kingdom, the pulse of it calling her forward, and it is there that she finds the fallen form of Mazikeen, and an unfamiliar figure worriedly next to her.
She feels her heart lodge in her chest because even from where she stands she can see there is far more blood than the last time that she had healed her. And even though Sela isn’t here she cannot bear the thought of having to tell him that she was not able to save Maze a second time.
Quietly, she approaches the pair, and though she says nothing she knows her presence would be hard to miss. Her own glow rivaled the moon with its brightness, though the light that radiated from her was far more golden. With the stardust the trailed from the ends of her wings draped against her sides she could have been a vision if not for the worry so plainly written across her face. “Maze,” she says softly, looking first at the blood-soaked and torn girl on the ground. She sees that her eyes are missing, and her chest clenches tight with an indescribable emotion, inspiring a phantom throbbing behind her own. There is a large wound across Maze’s pale chest too, and heat flashes across her lips in memory of all the times she had traced the scar left behind from a similar wound on Atrox.
She looks to the other mare, offering a thin smile before introducing herself, “My name is Ryatah. I’m a friend of Agetta’s, and Maze, too.” The other girl was clinging to Maze protectively, but she takes a slow step forward anyway. “I can heal her,” she tells her gently, taking another step forward, until she is close enough to touch Maze, and she reaches for her.
She concentrates on her chest, first, working to close the large, gaping wound. She is certain that it will scar, thinking that she had not gotten here in time, but there is little she can do about it now. Her pale nose sweeps up to her face then, enveloping the empty, bloodied sockets with the golden warmth of her healing. That first time in the dale when Carnage had torn out her eyes she had been lucky that a healer had been nearby, and she had only stood in shock for a few short moments with blood pouring down her porcelain-white face.
“Who did this to you?” she says quietly against her skin as she finishes up the last of the smaller wounds. It seemed unlikely for this to be an attack from the creatures that had roamed during the eclipse. To go for the eyes and the heart, it felt personal—and no one knew that better than her.
EVEN ANGELS HAVE THEIR WICKED SCHEMES
@[Mazikeen]