P a n g a e a
broken your servant I kneel
it seems what's left of my human side
is slowly changing in me
The mare had no idea what was going on. This entire situation was at odds with everything she thought she knew. Here she was, injured, struggling to make it, yet he wasn't taking the time to 'rid the competition.' For various reasons, there was no quick death that could have been excused for such acts in her homeworld. More than that, she couldn't understand why he was helping her. He wasn't just letting her life - he was making sure she did so. The longer she seemed trapped in this confusing circle, the smaller she seemed to shrink, waiting to see what he would do, when the foot would drop, when the fangs would emerge, when the compy in the grass would attack.
Instead, he held his ground like a trike, unwilling to back down, horns at the ready to put a 'point' to his argument. His stance relaxes further, and her eyes narrow, slitted pupils watching him closely, searching that stance for any tensed muscles, anything that would prove it was all a farce, a trick. . . she found ... nothing. He then took a step back, giving her more space, and again that skeptical look returned to her eyes, the yellow gaze searching his eyes for any falseness but only finding peace. She stood slowly, refusing to show the weakness of muscles losing strength the longer she went without a decent meal. All those weeks ago, when Aeon had found her the odd furred creature that reminded her of a protoceratops . . . had that been the last time she had eaten properly?
He finally begins to answer some of her questions at that point, speaking of the upset about Noor being of little consequence, but she can't deny the concerns the creature appears to have about the slower pace . . . because of her. Again, it didn't make sense that he wanted to help her. It didn't make any sense! You don't let the weakest set the pace for the pack. The invalid was left behind to fend for themselves or disposed of. More often than not, they; themselves would leave rather than force the pack to make the decision. You would wake up one morning, and they would just be gone. She'd have to remember this if she did begin to slow them down . . . if it came to it, even if it would upset the male . . . if it came down to it - she would walk away from this temporary mini pack.
The elk then turned to limp away, and she briefly watched the movements in concern. A prey animal limping on its own wasn't a good idea. "He shouldn't . . ." She starts, turning towards the large man, "Take the rare advice of a predator, do not let him walk alone while he limps like that. It's a universal dinner bell." Her tone was quiet, as her eyes stare down this chocolate and cream being, "And should it come down to it, do not be foolish enough to choose my life over his. If I slow your pack down too much . . . leave me." The mare added with steel to her tone. But then, he began to explain why he was helping, that it was how he was raised, and she snorted dismissively, "You were raised to concern yourself with another? Why? Wouldn't it be less competition for food sources? Removing the weak from a population ensures the rest of the population survives." She tilts her head, the thick curls of her loose forelock shifting against the pebbled scaled hide of her muzzle and forehead, "How can survival instincts be so . . . . dead here."
Did they truly have so few predators such things no longer mattered? Still, she pauses, before her gaze finally shifts down to her hooves, pawing at the ground, small trenches of snow being carved out as if to distract her, before her voice comes out almost unwilling, a hint of discomfort, uncertainty mixed with a bit of gruffness at even having to say this, "Thank you. For, well . . . you know. Thanks." For not killing her. For helping her. For not holding her actions against her. For giving her the means to survive this winter.
His gaze turns to her wings, and she briefly unfolds them, the thin webbing that stretches from her hips to her shoulders and each finger. The webbing stretched out in full display to prove they were in working order until he stated his reservations. She cuts him off in his pause, "It doesn't hurt that much to kick off the ground and be airborne. I can handle the pain to ensure both of your comforts." Then he explains his real reservations as she hesitates, before huffing, and refolding her wings, "Fine, when we get to your stupid mountains . . . I will . . . . . . walk." She says that last word like it's a curse word, her entire face seeming to come to life to express her disgust at such an idea. The offer to help her carry her weight is startling, and she pauses before shaking her head, "There's . . . no need. I am far lighter than I actually appear, it's why you were able to take my feet off the ground when you collided with me. The uhm . . . well, the place I was at before here, would study me, they said there were . . . aspects to my bone structure . . . well, I'm just lighter than I look, to support flight. I'll be fine." Why did this have to feel so awkward.
Her gaze looks up along the plains, to the rest of these lands and to the mountain range so far away, before startling when he offered his name, "Gareth . . ." She repeats quietly, before nodding her head once, "I am Pangaea." She didn't bother with giving a nickname, knowing most tended to shorten it after a time anyway, much to her chagrin. Her wings once more unfurled, flapping a few times to test the air, before nodding to him, "Lead the way, I shall follow from a respectable distance above." She states, Her wings pump again, but this time she prepares herself. While she almost has her back limbs collapse beneath the sudden shift in weight upon those injuries, she grits her teeth, ignores it all, releases the tense muscles during a downward thrust, and is airborne before the smell of fresh blood can be picked up. Her wings flap, carrying her high enough to catch a wind current that would allow her to glide but keep her close enough for conversation as needed, through projecting vocals - assuming regular horses could do that? She assumed so, "Lead the way." Because she didn't know where she was going.
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: I'm so excited.
when suddenly it changes
violently it changes
there is no turning back now
you've woken up the demon in me
