seal my heart and break my pride | injury

[agathe.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]In Agathe's defense, she had never been a careful individual- not in battle, at least. There was something absolutely exhilarating about combat and the promise of destruction it ushered in, something that inhibited even the most rational parts of herself and sent her careening blindly into what certainly could be her untimely fate. Her grandmother had berated her time and time again for her recklessness, angered by the precarious line that she danced so gleefully upon and even went as far as punishing her for her refusal to cooperate- the faint scars on her back indicative of a particularly wicked blow dealt by one of her sisters on her matron's icy command. But Agathe didn't change, would never change, not even here, the need for peace unable to drown out the song in her blood for war.

And after days, no, weeks of idle pacing, of untapped energy growing and growing and growing within her, she finally had an outlet. Oh, how she wished to squeal in delight as the stray rogue descended upon her, the cheetah - nothing more than a young adult, maybe even a mature adolescent - reeking of her old clan. But this was not one of her sisters, just some lesser scout sent to find her, as so many probably were. Her grandmother had vowed to hunt her to the ends of the earth, at least she was making good on that promise.

But she had been foolish to send somebody so weak, so inexperienced, to try to return her, and Agathe cared not that she was spilling her kin's blood as she bared ivory canines and prepared for a fight. The cheetah was frightened, the fear in her eyes a gleam that the Lunar Lieutenant knew too well. She almost laughed. Almost. Would have had sharp claws not raked down her face, her chest, blue blood welling in their wake. Her vision turned red as she retaliated, giving the cheetah only the mercy of a quick death as she tore at her body. She hadn't been quite quick enough to end the fight before acquiring a few more wounds, but she wore them like badges of honor as she took a step back and admired her work.

It was a shame it was over so soon.

Her injuries weren't terrible but they would require looking after, and this body... it would need to be disposed of far away from this land. She stared at the cheetah's corpse unimpressed, its own blue blood staining its tawny pelt. "I'd bless you," She whispered, mainly to herself, "But I doubt I even have that power anymore."

(ah yes so ag got into a little bit of a fight. the two largest wounds are on her face and her chest but she also sustained a few more on her shoulders and legs)

[emil]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 400px; padding: 0px; line-height: 14px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"]caution was not something he grew up with. there was a certain amount of care he took in his daily life, but his home had been the safest; protected by a strong mother, kept out of the way of the world's dangers. only when his mother passed did the coldness of reality finally reach him. he was alone, an amateur in everything, no real knowledge of how to properly take care of himself. the kindness of strangers he met on the road could only take him so far; he needed to learn, and such brought lessons of how to treat the wounds he got on hunts or scuffles over territory. love wouldn't call himself an expert, not in the slightest, but he knew what was essential to survive.

he knew, at least, was pretty sure there was some sort of rule about going near the borders for the time being. love didn't spend much time around the others here; there were several he was certainly interested in getting to know better, but the boy found himself becoming shy whenever they crossed paths. a mere "hello," before they went on with their days, uttering nothing more to each other. a majority of his time was spent wandering. the territory was vast, with so many things to discover and stare at in awe, but today he was drawn to the borders. in the air, the crisp scent of blood hung thick, and while alarms flared up in his mind, the panther continued forth. someone could be hurt, or in danger. he was a lover, not a fighter; a sweet little loverboy that knew nothing of what the world held in store.

soft brown eyes settled on the woman standing over the body of another. for a moment, he tensed, until her scent washed over him. he remembered her from when he'd joined; agathe, the pretty snow leopard with a cool, collected personality. something he wished he had, but he was stuck with his mess of one. "excuse me?" love said slowly, taking a few steps closer. he did his best to ignore the body, instead focusing on agathe as he peered around to look at her face. she was bleeding. not terribly, but she would certainly need help. "you okay? can i help?"

[radeken]

"[color=#cd7f32]I don't think there's a cure for being a sloppy idiot." Because everyone wanted Radeken's input, right? Like it or not, here she was offering it. Her two cents were inescapable, as was her scrutiny on most days. She had a knack for being around if there was an opening for snark, and the site of an injured creature was more than perfect for her. Easy, too, just to follow the scent of blood. "[color=#cd7f32]Oh!" Radeken gasped, mouth parted slightly as if she had been struck by some sudden realization. "[color=#cd7f32]Oh, you meant help her injuries." She didn't even have the courtesy to make her feigned shock appear half convincing.

It'd be hypocritical of her to assert that she knew more about the importance of caution than present company (though that wouldn't stop her), but the fact that Radeken never sought out a battle might've worked in her favor. That she expressed her recklessness differently meant nothing. Behind the thin veil of an icy intellectual partied a bitch who had dosed herself too high, on too many unknowns, and far too many times and who hadn't once hesitated cut herself open just to learn the quickest way to seal it all back up. No, none of that kept her from the feelings of superiority that blossomed in that moment, eyeballing Agathe's wounds with a look that said, 'How stupid can you be?'

It was a look that hid an underlying frenzy at the sight of blue blood. Radeken could've kicked herself for not bringing her bag, all full of empty bottles ready to catch and contain the bizarre liquid. Maybe once they clear out, I'll take the dead one in for examination. She felt itchy, longed to tiptoe over and stick her nails into the open wounds, press for answers. Well. Why not ask now? Couldn't hurt.

"[color=#cd7f32]Why are you and the dead one bleeding like that?"

[agathe.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]Agathe turned quickly to face Loverboy, eyes momentarily narrowing as she was seized with temporary unfamiliarity. Brutality would embrace her expression, contorting what usually was a mask of calm composure until it resembled something so entirely unlike the snow leopard that even she was shocked by the swell of emotion that accompanied the shift. And then, she remembered who he was and where they were and reverted almost instantaneously back to normal. She didn't bother apologizing for looking so frightening or hostile, instead only nodding at his words. "That would be..." Bile rose in her throat at the thought of accepting help from another. She ignored it. "Lovely and much appreciated."

Perhaps she had been entertaining the thought of a sincere apology when Radeken's words cut through the air, causing the cloaked snow leopard to bristle ever so slightly. "I don't think you want to see what happens when I'm being sloppy," Agathe merely retorted, refusing the urge to pull her lips back in a snarl. It would be classless with her to engage in a fight with her own clanmate, even if such would have once been encouraged where she came from. Instead, she turned her attention to a combination of the stinging in her face and chest and the inquiry that, surprisingly, followed Rad's words.

"We're witchlings," Agathe explained breezily, as if her heritage was a commonly known thing, "Our blue blood is a symbol of our status. Where I come from, only those who bleed blue are welcome to join our ranks." She'd turn to consider the deceased cheetah for a few seconds, her golden gaze running over her wounds several times. "We need to deposit this one's body as far from here as possible. I can take care of it once my wounds have been addressed," She continued, nodding ever so slightly to Loverboy. "Any more questions?"

[guts]

The smell of iron leads her to the scene, as well as the voices that seemed to be bickering. As usual, she mentally noted, frowning at how they seemed to treat each other. The child couldn't understand why everyone couldn't just get along. As she took in the sights, though, her eyes grow wide. The scent suddenly makes her nauseous, having to fight the bile rising in her throat as she looks up at the other three, her eyes searching for some sort of explanation.

She didn't like this. It was violent, bloody, the fact that it was probably an enemy not even registering in her mind. All she could think was that this was a person, now dead on the ground. They weren't anything more than a corpse now. The look of surprise and fear on their face only furthered her panic, the sight and smell of death causing her to squeeze her eyes shut tight, head tilting away.

The kit doesn't speak, only turns and makes her way back quickly to the Observatory. She had barely even noticed that Agathe was injured, only seeing the dead body and feeling the urge to run away, to put distance between it and herself. She felt like she was going to be sick.

"speech"

[radeken]

Witchlings. Radeken had always thought ‘witch’ was just a derogatory term, or superstition at most, so this certainly something worth recording once she had her books on her again.

“[color=#cd7f32]How many more are there? Why did you kill it?” The response to her insult was brushed aside because she didn’t care to entertain a snotty back-and-forth when it looked like Agathe was more than willing to answer questions. “[color=#cd7f32]Why does the body need to be disposed of far away?” Radeken wanted the body and she didn’t want to have to work to bring it back.

She didn’t mind looking Isabelle’s way entirely, merely catching a glimpse of the youth in her peripherals, approaching and then hastily departing. Radeken rumbled with a low laugh. That’s life, little thing.