I love the way you rake my skin, I feel the hate you place inside.
More than just the flesh must be damaged, she thinks to herself as the mare laughs maniacally. Femur could not blame her though for a mind just as broken as the flesh is torn. Whatever had befallen the mare had been more traumatic than either herself or the stallion could ever guess at. But the mare goes on talking about how this is now hell on earth and how appropriate that is. Femur holds back a laugh; Tephra is rich in heat and sulphur, and is perhaps the closest thing to hell at the moment but she knew otherwise, having been spat out of her mother’s loins upon the desolate wastes of a kingdom ripped from Beqanna’s breast than taken back in as a rude fashion as it was snatched in the first place. Nothing could ever quite compare to Pangea.
The land had been an utter ruin and Femur, for the first time in a long time, misses it as she looks upon the ruined flesh of this mare.
The tovero is a hard creature and Femur can only nod her at the mare’s assessment of salt in her wounds and more pain. She agrees despite the fact that she had offered a gentle protest against causing more pain because the mare looked as if she could hardly suffer it but the quiet stoic suffering is what impressed Femur the most - Scyla, even in the face of whatever hardship she has just endured, remained full of determination to overcome it if for no other reason than that she had to. Despite all of that, the mare falls to her knees in the surf and Femur moves to assist her as best as she can, offering a shoulder and an encouraging bump of her maw to the mare’s neck.
Scyla’s question gains a sly smile from Femur’s fanged lips as her black eyes slide to the stallion and back again, “A bit of both?” she surmises, toeing the line of whichever felt appropriate for her at the time. Right now, she was walking the fine line of being downright kind and helpful which was so not like Femur - not that she was characteristically mean either, just that she kept to herself and preferred it that way but something about the brokenness of the tovero had pulled at her and spurred her to an action she’d never otherwise think of.
On the mare’s other side, she can see the stallion grooming the feathers of those once beautiful wings as she looks over the painted and torn skin of the tovero’s back. His answer had been more honest than Femur’s own wry attempt of one and she was inclined to agree with him that neither of them was angel or demon - they just were. He goes on to introduce himself and she gives him a nod in return before uttering her own name to them both, “I’m Femur.” his ministrations are far more kindly and helpful than Femur has been until he mentions that it might be a good idea for her to rest and attempt to heal the fractures in her mind, and suggests finding a place. Femur perks up at this, she has a spot in mind that is guarded and suitable.
“I know a place,” she offers;
She’d not knowingly breach her beloved’s sanctum for them but she’d bring them close, knowing that he’d slink by in either shape - horse or wolf, and nothing short of a fly would come to bother the mare as she recuperated.
Femur
@[Scyla] @[Warrick] I know this reply was super delayed and we'll probably want to wrap this thread up and move on to a more current timeline since Scyla has given birth and Warrick is the new Overseer. Still wanted to reply and let you guys know I hadn't forgotten about it! <3