05-16-2021, 02:11 PM
If Yan had been privy to Leilan’s thoughts, he might’ve remarked later on about how refreshing it felt to finally be the one who could annoy a stallion thought invincible to such things. As it was in the moment, he happened to be a bit more preoccupied with the state of his dead wife.
The bulkier of the two stallions is a welcome sight, and Yan looked away from Borderline’s cold body to plead wordlessly with the elder for help. He watched, breathless, as the scaled horse lowered his own nose to nudge here and there at the fallen dappled gray mare, and then blinked back the wave of desperation that came when Leilan announced he wasn’t a healer. It took everything not to bargain for some transference with the mythical King of the North: Yan would’ve offered his own life, his own breath. He would’ve argued that anything was possible if he was willing to pay the price, and for Borderline … he would pay in full.
But Leilan was working and it gave Yan no time to plot. He watched, silently, with inquisitive blue eyes as the fog and icy mist curled around Leilan and transformed itself into some material that he spread along Borderline’s skin. He said nothing, did nothing even though Leilan asked him a question. The point became moot as Borderline reacted to the Freyr’s touch. Her body, which had only collapsed moments before, began to decay. It withered and melted like snow into the earth, giving life to a blossom that caused Yan to take a few steps backward from the corpse. Blue petals like long tongues unfurled themselves beneath the pile of dead flesh, curling up and over Borderline’s body until she became completely encapsulated, and there they held her tight.
“What the fuck.” Yan blurted out, turning to glare at Leilan. “Did you just turn my dead wife into a flower?” He asked, at a total loss for what to think.
This was the exact opposite of what he expected to happen, and he’d been ready to say as much when the bulbous flower burst open with a puff of cloyingly sweet pollen. Yan looked back to the massive thing taking root in the soil of Taiga, and there he saw Borderline - youthful again, unmarked and untouched by the time that’d passed since they first met one another - laying curled and asleep in the center like a bud.
“Borderline?” He thought to himself in shock. He watched her move, come to life again, and couldn’t disguise the abject horror of it all despite the beautiful scenery of her rebirth. At least … he thought it was her rebirth. Yan had never seen anything like this before and had no reference for such a magical occurrence. He only stood, mouth agape, as Borderline stumbled to her hooves and called out for him, tumbling forward to wrap her neck over his.
And then he yanked himself away.
Yan wrenched himself out from underneath her grasp, her tears still fresh on his pelt. He shook his head in disbelief, confusion and near disgust twisting his expression as he distanced himself from the pair of horses in the forest. Honestly the entire ordeal was a bit too much for him to process in the moment, and it had happened so quickly. One moment Borderline was dead and the next… she was this? “Is that even the same Borderline?” He thought disjointedly, looking over the mare he’d known before. The laugh lines in her face were gone, the slight dip in her belly where she’d carried Memorie and Wit disappeared. Her skin was no longer a pale lily white but mostly dappled gray again, all the history and years just gone. Like that.
“You’re dead.” Yan spat at her. “You died. I watched it happen.” He shook his head. He looked up and away from the mare, back to Leilan. “You’re not a healer you said. She was dead, right?” Yan gasped.
YANHUA
@[Borderline] @[Leilan]