02-12-2021, 04:17 AM
"but you promised me this is love" ✭ ── The first sign that something was wrong was that Elsweyr had left for the Pitt at all. Arrow tried, she really did, but no amount of "truce" would make her not want to set the place on fire. Which would be rather useless considering it was a fucking desert, no? Still, the point was she hated their guts and would have pulled them out and hung them up like little decorations at this point, perhaps spelling out an ironic "live, laugh, love" to spruce the place up. Alas, she refrained, twas' not her decision to make.
The second sign something was wrong was that the lioness hadn't come home soon enough. The ghost had been pacing during the entire duration of the ambassador trip, biting her cheek in sudden regret that she didn't go with, feeling a sinking sensation in her nonexistent stomach. It had gotten so bad that she eventually just left to track her down, whether she was still there or had left already was of no importance. She'd come across the scent of blood as well, crossing paths with Atticus, and by extension, Elsweyr.
The immediate change in expression could have been seen miles away, somewhere between guilt, terror, and unchecked rage. They had a truce, Aurum insisted the Pitt would not be touched, and they would be safe in return, no matter how much they truly hated each other. That was the agreement, and yet, here was the second in command, covered in blood and the scent of the warbound bastards. The noticeable injury of the leg made her violently wince, kicking her own corresponding injured leg. A cold chill ran down her spine, praying to whatever god was listening that this didn't end the same way, and that Elsweyr didn't lose the mobility like she had. Perhaps that was the part that encouraged the red in her sight, seeing it all again as if she was recalling her own torture was bad enough, but anyone but those she cared about. Anyone but Elsweyr.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'll fucking maim them-" Arrow hissed, cursing the fact that nothing she could have done would help the problem, hard to be useful when you went right through people. "Stay with me, big girl." Her voice was strained, knowing the lionesses probably couldn't even hear her. She didn't know.
The second sign something was wrong was that the lioness hadn't come home soon enough. The ghost had been pacing during the entire duration of the ambassador trip, biting her cheek in sudden regret that she didn't go with, feeling a sinking sensation in her nonexistent stomach. It had gotten so bad that she eventually just left to track her down, whether she was still there or had left already was of no importance. She'd come across the scent of blood as well, crossing paths with Atticus, and by extension, Elsweyr.
The immediate change in expression could have been seen miles away, somewhere between guilt, terror, and unchecked rage. They had a truce, Aurum insisted the Pitt would not be touched, and they would be safe in return, no matter how much they truly hated each other. That was the agreement, and yet, here was the second in command, covered in blood and the scent of the warbound bastards. The noticeable injury of the leg made her violently wince, kicking her own corresponding injured leg. A cold chill ran down her spine, praying to whatever god was listening that this didn't end the same way, and that Elsweyr didn't lose the mobility like she had. Perhaps that was the part that encouraged the red in her sight, seeing it all again as if she was recalling her own torture was bad enough, but anyone but those she cared about. Anyone but Elsweyr.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'll fucking maim them-" Arrow hissed, cursing the fact that nothing she could have done would help the problem, hard to be useful when you went right through people. "Stay with me, big girl." Her voice was strained, knowing the lionesses probably couldn't even hear her. She didn't know.