if you do not have shadows,
you are not in the light
In the span of seconds, our golden child was reminded how right Brine has been.
Guilt spreads.
(Ignorance was bliss)
The energy is so overwhelming Ruthless feels a flush of red cross over her chest and throat. Her legs are numb with exhaustion, her wings tender and tired.
Our lioness had fallen to the confidence of a mouse. Her eyes fell distant in the same way Brine’s looked dull, her neck sunk in pride like her mother’s had hung since she could last remember.
A broken, blank canvas once painted with vibrant shades of summer colours, glowing the feeling of joy.
The tentacle falls slack, jolting Ruth from her daze and focusing her attention on the dead limb below her—the soft ache from pressure still throbbing on her right leg. Bronze irises swing to see Fiorina hanging a gushing tentacle from the grips of her jaw.
That is so cool.
Hope is restored! Ruthless whips back to see Wolfbane, his seizing movements both hypnotic and disturbing. Her heart is pounding, her stomach flipping. The only thing that she is sure of is that they might actually beat him.
Golden legs lift into the air as she kicks out her front in a celebratory rear, white wings flapping beside her before carefully lowering back to the ground.
But something has changed.
(We cannot fight, baby Ruth. We just… can’t)
The whisper of Brine haunts our golden child like a cougar on the hunt, sinking into her ears and falling deep through her throat to the pit of her stomach. A constant presence that she couldn’t shake. And though she silenced—not having heard her taunting words in months—Brine rose from her disappearance with demand of attention.
Because if she understands what is going on, then she understands that Lilliana is surrendering herself to him.
(And you thought she was different.)
The copper mare has intention with every step, each deliberately placed with a longer stride to shorten the distance. Ruthless fleetingly glances to Fiorina, curious to see if she is as shocked, but also wondering if maybe this had been some elaborate last-minute plan they had silently agreed to. Perhaps maybe Lilliana is a distraction.
But what if she isn’t?
This is why I protect you. How can you fight this!? I am your mother Ruthless and I will never let you see what I have seen. You do not know what others are capable of.
It doesn’t occur to her that she hasn’t exhaled until she finally does, the long-winded breath and slight wince in her throat as the last bit of air escapes. Monsters are real, but so are warriors. Fiorina proves it. And she isn’t some strong, powerful stud.
She is a mare.
Rage boils deep in the pit of her stomach, but things are already falling apart. But, Wolfbane has agreed. He has already resorted to dismissing them. Daring them to test him, wanting the drama.
No, please Lilliana you can’t. You aren’t like her. You aren’t..
Even so, her voice is not found. She cannot bring herself to test the waters. She isn’t as brave as Fiorina. She isn’t as strong, or well-versed in the art of fighting. Not now.
Not yet.
Her eyes just flicker between Lilliana and Fiorina, in the hands of whatever they decide to agree on next. Her wings pulling close to her sides in search for warmth and comfort; mirroring the feeling of the copper and raven mares that stood next to her only minutes before.
Ruthless
@[Fiorina]