Maea
You think killing is hard?
Try healing something. That is hard.
Try healing something. That is hard.
It took every ounce of willpower that she had not to flinch away from the touch. Thalassa's fingers against her cheek felt unreal, the way a small foal had once seemed too vibrantly alive under her own hands. But the touch was light, feathery almost, and Maea almost smiled, tense shoulders beginning to relax...
PAIN
Dazed, the petite woman staggered back and touched the face where a bright red mark already began to form against her pale skin. It stung, sharp and immediate, and some deep part of her was grimly amused that she had finally been proven right; it had been a good idea to stay clear of Thalassa. Not so much because of the violence, perhaps, but gods, they were similar. In temperament, in depth of emotion, and especially the way they took the blame for things that went wrong around them.
"I was dead," Maea said matter-of-fact, tenderly testing her jaw. "For a while. Not because of you, though. It was Melita who shot me... and I who used far too much magic for all the wrong reasons." Assured that she wasn't bleeding, she straightened and adjusted the hood over her horns. "For whatever reason, Flora brought me to Torchline, where Ronin and Remi healed me wounds and brought me back to life." For a moment lavender met with blue, Maea's gaze direct and earnest – but weary. So very tired.
"Afterward... I needed to be alone. Process... and I hurt you, back then. I nearly killed you. I was afraid... if I came back, it would happen again." The anger she had felt, night black fury with an aftertaste of vindictive cruelty; it made her shudder even now just to think of it. It was everything she hated and shied from in herself. And she'd let it take over.
"I am sorry, though. For making you worry. I thought the very dramatic scene of resucitation by the fountain in the middle of Haulani eould go around... but it seems I was wrong."
PAIN
Dazed, the petite woman staggered back and touched the face where a bright red mark already began to form against her pale skin. It stung, sharp and immediate, and some deep part of her was grimly amused that she had finally been proven right; it had been a good idea to stay clear of Thalassa. Not so much because of the violence, perhaps, but gods, they were similar. In temperament, in depth of emotion, and especially the way they took the blame for things that went wrong around them.
"I was dead," Maea said matter-of-fact, tenderly testing her jaw. "For a while. Not because of you, though. It was Melita who shot me... and I who used far too much magic for all the wrong reasons." Assured that she wasn't bleeding, she straightened and adjusted the hood over her horns. "For whatever reason, Flora brought me to Torchline, where Ronin and Remi healed me wounds and brought me back to life." For a moment lavender met with blue, Maea's gaze direct and earnest – but weary. So very tired.
"Afterward... I needed to be alone. Process... and I hurt you, back then. I nearly killed you. I was afraid... if I came back, it would happen again." The anger she had felt, night black fury with an aftertaste of vindictive cruelty; it made her shudder even now just to think of it. It was everything she hated and shied from in herself. And she'd let it take over.
"I am sorry, though. For making you worry. I thought the very dramatic scene of resucitation by the fountain in the middle of Haulani eould go around... but it seems I was wrong."
You can break something in two seconds
But it can take forever to fix it
But it can take forever to fix it
