[mature] diabolical, delicious things;

[leliana]

I waited for something, and something died
so I waited for nothing, and nothing arrived

She remains quiet the rest of the way to this mother. 

She’s said her piece, and she focuses instead of conserving her energy as best she can. She has no idea of what she is walking into. She has no idea the extent of the damage, but if it’s as bad as Dovev says—and she has no reason to believe that he’d risk so much to come find her—then it won’t be an easy task. If she was at full strength, it’d be one thing, but she’s not; she hasn’t been for a while. The exhaustion from trying to heal Warrick still simmers in her blood and no amount of rest has been able to squash it just yet.

If she was to be useful here, she’d need everything she could muster.

Which meant that she needs to be quiet as they walk, focusing only on the quickened pace of Dovev.

Such things, however, fall away when they finally reach the mare on the ground and the little colt. She instantly takes in the celestial markings, the constellations splashed across his little coat, and she is surprised by the way it guts her. She takes in a steadying breath, feeling slightly light-headed, but she doesn’t have the luxury of letting the agony roll through her. She can’t afford to let the reality of the situation—that Dovev has brought her to one of his loves and their child together—sink in.

So she pushes it to the side, swallowing and turning her hazel eyes to the boy. “It’s going to be okay,” she breathes, her voice even and soft—always so calm, regardless of what she felt inside. “I’m here to help.”

Then, without wasting any further time, she reaches for her gift, unravelling it in her palm. The golden light of it whimpers slightly, as exhausted as she, but she coaxes it forth, and it eventually it responds. She closes her eyes and then lets it pool forward, reaching for the mare on the ground. Everything else goes to black as she works her way through the mare’s body. The little boy is no longer there. Dovev is no longer there. It’s only her and the mare and the wounds, and the mounting concern in her chest at the magnitude.

She frowns as she works, worry knitting her brows together, sweat beginning to darken her neck.

Her concentration is so much that she doesn’t even hear Dovev the first time he snaps at her. It’s only when she feels his teeth gripping and yanking her that she opens her eyes, her golden light recoiling into her chest. Her expression is cool, her eyes unflinching as they find his and she stares at him without saying a word for a second. “At least you’ve learned to say please,” she says quietly before turning her attention back to the mare. The worst of the wounds had been stitched together, the bleeding and the burns, but there was so much more to do—so much more to accomplish. “I will be fine,” she whispers to Dovev, unwilling to feel the depth of his concern, not letting herself feel his fear. "Let me do what you brought me here for."

Stepping forward, she moves to Disastardly, her muzzle skimming over her neck breathing softly.

“It’s going to be okay,” she repeats, this time to the mother. “I’m here to help.”

She would deal with her own wounds from this some other time.

it's our dearest ally, it's our closest friend
it's our darkest blackout, it's our final end