theres an old man sitting on a throne thats saying...
Grief, relief, anger, joy, loss.
Conflicting emotions waged a war in Iset's head as her older brother flew to her side. Her weak body obviously paid no mind to the trepidations flitting around her head, because her bony knees soon buckled, causing her to crash into Amet's side. She used the time he spent speaking and asking questions to gather her courage. Though she lacked the strength to stand, her exhaustion didn't soften the scathing glare that she threw her older brother. "How am I here? How are you here? Who do you think you are, leaving us like that. Do you have any idea how much damage you caused?" She rolled her eyes at his accompanying questions.
"Of course I didn't tell Shalla. What, do you think I'm a complete idiot?" She jerked at the mention of her twin and with considerable effort heaved her petite frame off of her brother and took a few steps away. Whiskey colored eyes filled with tears that were quickly blinked away, and she shook her narrow head to clear the fog that had descended.
She couldn't meet the identical pair of eyes that stared at her with a mixture of guilt and curiosity. Couldn't tell him that her fear had gotten the better of her and she'd actually left Sakir behind. But, what other choice did she have?
"It got worse," she began, "much worse after you ran off." She felt a twinge of sympathy for the colt standing beside her, for how much better was what she did, really? "I don't blame you for leaving," she mumbled, still not ready to dole out a true apology. Accusatory eyes met his, "but you should have taken us. How could you leave us?" Her voice cracked and dropped to a whisper.
"He thought it was my fault; after all, I was always the one to cause trouble," she added sarcastically. "He thought I told you to go, that I drove you off. And when I told him I didn't know where you'd gone, he-," she stuttered and pawed at the ground as a way to stall. "Well he gave me this, and a lovely set of bruised ribs to start," she tossed her dirty nose to the gash spanning the length of half of her neck and shoulder.
Her expression changed to one of sympathy, knowing that Amet had to be just as worried about Sakir as she was. "He didn't hurt him when you left," she reassured. "He wouldn't come with me, but... but he's okay still. I- I can feel it." She didn't know how to explain it, but in her heart she knew her twin hadn't been harmed.
The young filly squared her shoulders and locked out her knees. "So, what now?"
...I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut