[Leonora]

direct followup to leo leaving this thread

A E S T H E T I C       A R T
BACKGROUND MUSIC
Dragon Palace - Okami

The bleeding girl sprints through Inaria, her wails and cries echoing through the fields and trees like a banshee. There is a deep crimson that stains half of her face, down along her neck and her chest, a stark contrast to the pale white fur and even the other shade of red that she was born with. She leaves nothing but blood in her wake, her pawpads cut to pieces and it hurts everything huRTS WHY DID THIS HAPPEN WHY WHY WHY--

Everything is overwhelming to her, and she dashed past anyone and everyone, whether they wanted to help or not. She didn't stop, couldn't stop, all she could see was this darkness and all she could feel was a horrible pain and everything was closing in on her and god make it stop MAKE IT STOP MAKE IT STOP!

The blind girl crashes full force into a lone, colossal oak tree within one of Inaria's fields, the ruined side of her face smashing into the bark and leaving a mix of blood and white fur upon it. She still lets out an ugly cry, her 'good' eye clamped shut but her other eye still had the remains of the burst eyeball within - an awful, sickening sight.

(They're coming for you, they're getting closer)

"DON'T HURT ME! DON'T HURT ME PLEASE! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!" She shrieks at whoever approaches her first, trying to move away and pressing herself against the tree.

And still, she screams.

[Pareidolia]

It wasn’t a horrifying day for everyone here.

Pareidolia for example had been doing pretty well. She practically glowed with pride and vitality, a shaggy child just barely breaching her pre-teenage years, for she had... caught her own lunch today! Granted it wasn’t much, just a fat vole who’d been unlucky enough to be trapped between her and a hard place, but it was still something alive and squirming that she’d brought down all by herself, no help from mom or dad or godfather needed.

She would be a fantastic hunter someday. Just the best. The brightest. The fiercest. The hunter-queen, the wild-queen, that’s what they’d call her, and they’d leave animal bones at the foot of her throne, beautiful pelts and skins and paws and tails all adorned with wildflowers she could tell her subjects to weave into her hair. It was going to be so awesome!

The princess sighed, a dreamy and indulgent sound. It was another sort of sound that popped her fantasy like a soap bubble. She jumped a mile, her back arcing, her hackles on end. Looked almost like a spooked cat, she did.

She was still too young, too naive in her unwavering belief in her own immortality and invulnerability, to fully comprehend at first what she saw when her sudden run brought her to that tree. A thrashing she-wolf, bruised from the crash, crying desperately — bleeding from somewhere, all down her front, all down her face, where was the wound, was — was that her —

Doli stared. For a moment in time, she really just stood there and stared, with the green eyes passed down from her father. She didn’t look all that frightened, on the outside at least. She chewed her lip as a child will suck on their thumb.

“Your eye,” said the princess numbly, in between all the screaming and begging. It was a ruptured ruin, all blind jellied gore. If something snapped her out of her stunned state, it was only the thought that the thief, the violator, might still be lurking about, scheming to take one of hers as well.

She shook her head. Shook it again, feeling dazed and lightheaded in the first face of merciless violence she’d ever looked into. Part of her childhood innocence sloughed from her like snakeskin and died upon hitting the ground.

What did she do?

Where were all the grown-ups???

“Help,” she managed to cough out, battling valiantly for her senses. “Help —” The princess stepped away from Leonora, backing up like her wound was a disease she might catch. “Someone help! Mama! Papa! Godfather! HELP!”

She had no other answer for this poor blindsided girl.

[Anglachel]

ANGLACHEL

For a terrible moment, the ringing of screams that echo through the trees fall as white noise to the silvery healer's ears. Background noise. Nothing out of the ordinary -- not even a hitch in his step as he makes his way toward the healer's garden. It is only for a brief second, but it is enough for a wave of sickness to churn deep within Anglachel's gut. Stupid, stupid, was he doomed to forever be Saboran?

The healer does not waste another heartbeat on his thoughts, his legs taking him as fast as they can toward the source of such terrible screams and the cry of a scared child.

What greets him is a reminiscent sight -- a haunting one. Had nightmares of the same thing not plagued him in the past? Blood upon soft pastel fields, screaming and begging again and again; NO NO, PLEASE NO! . Silver stained crimson, the remnants of scarlet underneath. Anglachel stares in the face of a nightmare turned real -- but he forces himself to be a doctor before daring to feel the storm of brewing emotion.

(Later, when the girl is tended to and resting, Anglachel will dream of yellow-green eyes and snapping teeth. He will suffocate beneath the weight of his fears and will wish for Zachariah's warmth. But only once Leonora's storm had been soothed. Then and only then would the healer succumb to his own).

"Leonora, Leonora." The healer calls to her, hoping a familiar voice would soothe her terror. "Leonora, sweetheart, it's Anglachel. I need to take a look at you. Okay? I'll help you, I promise." He doesn't promise not to hurt her, for it would be a lie to do so. By the state of her grievous wound, it would hurt before it got better. Oh it would hurt, and his heart wept for the poor girl. He steps forward with caution, trying with all he had to convey every movement so not to startle her.

Anglachel knew all to well, how pain and fear wired the brain to startle and snap.

"I'm right in front of you now, okay? I'm here to help. I need to call for some others, but we'll take care of you. Alright?" Wine red eyes glance toward the child -- a vaguely familiar face from Wheatley's funeral. One of the little princesses. The girl shouldn't have to see such things -- but in some ways, perhaps it was best she learned. It does not due to stand numbly in shock. Even princesses need to act. "Do you know what poppies look like? They're white, with big petals and black seeds in the middle. There's a patch just by the edge of this field. You can see them from here, see? Can you get some for me? It'll help Leonora here. Quickly now." Spare the youth the gruesome sight, give her some gratification in helping, but keep her within sight.

With that the silvery healer tilts his head back with an urgent call. Another healer or two -- bring herbs -- and soldiers.

For sweet Leonora's wound was a bite, and acts of viciousness was not the norm in Inaria. Someone had a attacked the young healer.  

[Luna]

Luna was told that there was some important guests coming to visit for a while, and yet, Luna found herself… bored.

Perhaps it was her own fault for not meeting more of these allied wolves, or maybe she wasn’t in the right places at the right times for things to be exciting. Aimlessly wandering, the princess wished for something exciting to happen.

Then, a distant screaming rang into her ears.

Careful what you wish for.

Young legs extended into a long stride as big as they could muster as she shot toward the screeching, heart pounding in anxiety and adrenaline as she made her way to the crime scene. Despite her curiosity and want to shove her nose in places it may not belong, the scream was nothing if not laced in pure fear and agony.

Then the words "help" followed and Luna pushed herself as much as she could. Any more force and she'd be tripping on her own gangling youthful paws in attempt to get there any faster.

The beacon had already started to summon whoever was nearby. Luna only recognized Doli, slowing her pace as she got closer, although it turned more like a skidding stop right into Doli. Her body didn't collide hard enough to cause either girl to be knocked over, but one that could've helped shake the girl in her horror before Luna realized what there was to be afraid of.

"Dolia, what's the matter?" Luna followed the royal's eyesight to see the horror. She looked confused, at first. Before robotically murmuring. "Oh." Someone had already been there trying to help.

Luna shoved herself toward the adult, being careful not to cause distress but her curiosity lulled her closer. The gore had caused her to gasp quietly, ears lowering as she heard the voice of the healer but didn't properly register what he was saying. Something about flowers, helping, commands for Doli. Luna ignored them, zeroing in on the scene before her.

She didn't know how to process it at first, but somehow managed to squeak out in fear, concern, shock. How did this happen in Inaria?? "Is... " A swallow. "Is she going to be okay...? W-What.... happenned... ?" Little green eyes looked up at the healer's face, desperately looking for answers.

Will this happen to me too? To us?

[Belioh]

✦

She'd been gathering flowers, the nice looking ones. This was how she was spending some of her time, because she didn't have the energy to throw herself out there and greet all those new wolves.Okat well... not really "new" but... allies. Or whatever. There were a buncha strangers in Inaria, and she didn't really like it. She felt cramped and... she was probably overthinking everything. Wow look at her. Inaria Princess, hiding.

Picking flowers...
Or whatever.

The scream shattered her vision of endless colors of plants she was going to try and weave together, and how it was going to be done. The calls for help had her pawsteps falter, and what she was carrying was dropped from her mouth. And for some reason, Bel was running too.

She skidded to a halt somewhere behind Luna, her eyes catching Doli, and...

Her thoughts halted and all she could do was stare wide eyed as the other posed their questions.

There was... Ang, she liked Ang. So she... Leonora was going to be safe. They all were. If they stayed together.

"I can he-help t-too?" It was posed as a question, quietly as she peered around Luna, but not coming any closer. Her ears were flat against her head, because of all the noise.

[Amando]

Don't get involved. There's screaming somewhere, and Amando pointedly focuses on tearing up this tiny patch of grass between his forepaws for no reason in particular. You know what happened last time you got involved. Yup; it involved a court summons. It gets louder, and his nose gets closer to the ground until it's carving a furrow in the bare patch and his paws cover his ears. He gets just a glimpse of the gore as the poor girl dashes by, leaf-green eyes fixating on a stain of blood left behind her. Last time you got involved didn't end up well, but you know what's worse? The last time you didn't.

She doesn't know him-- nobody knows him; you need to get out more-- so he doesn't refute her pleas, and instead gives the girl space as he takes stock of the situation. Anglachel is an absolute blessing, knows herbs way better than Amando, and turns away the first child tactfully, but there are more than he can handle-- especially when the injured needs his attention so desperately. "C'mere, kids!" he calls, just loud enough to draw the attention of those already close enough to have seen. "Give them some space, alright? She's hurt."

His first instinct is to get himself between the babes and blood-- shield them from it-- but that implies they face it, lean just a little around and see the horrors beyond. He's not big enough to handle more than one that way, and there's-- what, three? Where are their parents, guardians? How many did the visiting packs bring--

God, did one of them do this?

The timbre whistles instead, anything to keep the puppies' eyes on him, and away from brutal beginnings of amputation. "Look here, everyone-- you too!" he directs to Pareidolia, after she's returned with the poppies, or if she hasn't at all.

"Is she going to be okay...? Wh-what happened?

"She had an accident, okay? It'll be alright," he lies, eyes scanning the distance above their heads for others incoming, "Is everyone here alright?" Obviously not. "Is anyone else hurt? Did someone see what happened?"

He does his best to keep them engaged directly with him, not bothering her, but he's half-hysterical between assurances and trying to find out what the hell [/i]happened?[/i]

"I can he-help t-too?"

Belioh draws his attention again, grounded by a child, how much of a mess is he? Amando holds her eyes, smiling, sadly. "Right now, this is the best we can do. Stay close." I don't want to be alone.

[Orcrist]

Screaming wasn't something he had expected to hear within the beautiful scenery that was Inaria. It was an eerie sound as it echoed along the trunks of trees. Orcrist expected an actual vacation where he could laze and not have to worry about his duties for once. To be in the land where his mother was born and tore asunder which gave birth to the hatred and rivalry between Alteron and Inaria. The past was the past though, and the more he laid under the lilac trees, the more he felt at home.

But the frantic screaming sent chills down his spine as he rose from his laying position and started trotting toward the commotion. He wasn't the only one who heard it. Not like he was surprised, the girl belted for all the world to hear. What he didn't expect to see was pups among the carnage, ones who didn't know how to help and it was a scramble to figure out what exactly happened. Orcrist approached with mild ambition, wanting to be one of the calming figures in the group.

While Amando tended to the three young, there was a blue figure with silver hair attending to the injured girl. The Chariot grimaced to the blood and eye tissue squeezing between lids and he knew for damn sure she'd have to get that shit scraped out unless she wanted it to fester. "Lookin' like she needs that eye taken out, eh?" he said to Anglachel, olive eyes settling on the specks of bright red around his eyes. Ah, Saboran? Ex-Saboran probably. Inaria didn't seem the type to make friends with the hostile bunch.

"Ah can help hold 'er down, I ain't no healer but I'll help yah all the same. Jus' tell me what t'do, doc." Telana would be so proud, or at least he hoped so. An injury like this to a young girl tugged at his heartstrings.

We'll fix yah right up, darlin'.

✦ ✦ Speech Text ✦ ✦

[sterling.]

S T E R L I N G

He hears something racing between the purple trees. It runs and screams as he lazes in the sun somewhere near Maeva and his mother, carrying a familiar scent with it. Mismatched eyes blink cooly -- once, twice -- before tracing a blur of white and red through the fields of lavender. Snake-like tongue flickers over a flashing smile before the black crowned prince slithers after the banshee.

Blood thickens in the air. But it's not hers. His interest wanes, though the commotion that follows gets his attention. More screaming, more bodies, pile after the bleeding girl who's scent is dangerously intermingled with Shuck's. He follows quietly, that disquieting smirk replaced by a mere nonchalance. He doesn't approach the group, instead deciding to watch from a distance (your teeth are clean); but he hears the barks of an angel haired stranger. He knows poppies well. He'd been sure to find some in the new kingdom, mostly in preparation for Antares, but assumed some kind of destruction would follow in the wake of Gemini. It always did, didn't it? 

Was Gemini finally getting her revenge on the lilac kingdom? An eye for an eye? 

Sterling plucks a handful of poppies from the ground and finally has the nerve to approach the group. YOUR TEETH ARE CLEAN! -- yet something still gnaws at him. This is their fault. His fault? For not extinguishing the fire before it grew and grew and -- 

He drops the poppies near the healer. The mangled mass of flesh dangled loosely from the girl's socket. " The tissue will get infected soon. " It should be severed, he almost said, but refrained for once. "I can help, if needed."  His voice was soft, apologetic. He was never good at comforting, that was always Maeva's expertise, but he'd picked up on some things.

This is your fault. Don't you care?

[*Lotus*]

There were too many wolves in Inaria. Too many unknown faces and too many different scents. She'd caught words spoken here and there about a gathering, but hadn't bothered to ask more about it. Before she had left, Moons had been her main connection to the happenings of the pack, but Lotus had yet to catch sight of her and was beginning to worry. She would have gone looking for her if not for the wound at her leg, which still caused her pain and limited her movements. It was partially for that reason that she hadn't gone to mingle with the visiting wolves, and had kept to herself. It was also because she still carried some discomfort about being in crowds and interacting with strangers. At least, the gentle healer wasn't as socially crippled now as she'd been during her first year in the pack. Then, she would have barely spoken a word without stuttering and avoided eye contact. She'd come a long way, but still not enough to mingle with such a large crowd of strangers. So she rested in her den, knowing to keep the weight off her leg for a another day or two to allow it to heal.

Then came the echoes of the yelling and the screams from the nearby river. The little healer crawled out of her den and looked out into the distance, unsure of what to do. She should not go, for she knew that if there was violence, there was not much she could do to prevent it. She was not a fighter in the least (though she had been stupid enough to try to take on a 700lbs cat by herself recently), and odds were she would be more trouble than help. Still, if there had been violence then there was a chance someone was wounded and required care. Heading back into her den, Lotus filled her bag with the essential herbs, roots and barks she knew could come in handy in a myriad of situations. Then slipping her head through the satchel's strap, she balanced it against the strength of her shoulder and head off towards the river.

She had barely taken two steps out of her den that Anglachel's call rang clearly through the air. He asked for medical assistance and herbs as well as soldiers for backup. The call was coming from the opposite direction which she was first heading into. Had there been more than one accident? No matter, Lotus knew she couldn't ignore the call of her fellow healer in need. She set off to find him, but her progress was slow. Her bad leg slowed her down and she cursed aloud to herself wishing that she hadn't been so hasty on that day.

They were many on the scene by the time she arrived. Too many. And children to boot. Where had they come from, she wondered? Everywhere, answered the back of her mind. Ah yes... wasn't this gathering about children? One more reason why she'd opted to stay in her den. She'd slither past the children and the one who seemed to have taken them under his wing. Anglachel was there, along two other wishing to help the girl. Oh the girl... her screams had torn at Lotus's heart even from a distance and the sight of her was just the finishing blow. She would never again see through that eye (because Lotus didn't know she never had in the first place), and the pain she must have felt should have been beyond what the little healer had ever experienced herself. Placing herself beside the other healer, she began to take out the contents of her back. She worked quietly and without a word, acting as an assistant to Anglachel, since after all it was he whom had made the call. A small bundle of pre-washed leaves was taken out and placed on the ground to create a sterile space and the contents of her bag were placed upon it. Among them: Yarrow leaves against hemorrhage. Coltsfoot leaves to prevent infection. Valerian roots to prevent seizures or as an anesthesia in stronger doses. She left the other healer to choose from the items she placed for him, or left him to rummage her bag to find whatever best suited his practices. From the side of the bag, she took out a large shell and swiftly disappeared with it, only to reappear moments later with it filled to the brim with clear clean water. She would place it beside the array of herbs and look up to the wounded girl. She would not give her attention to anyone other than the patient and the other healer unless directly addressed or until the medical situation at hand had been taken care of.

"You are safe from whoever did this. We won't let them get to you. You're going to be alright."