Just because it's my fate doesn't mean that I want it!
[She denies it to defy him even though she has always been torn between her innate desire to live and her inability to see any way to cleanse her dishonor but a glorious warrior's death. In Kenos, alone without a single friend or way out that she could see, she had tried to shatter her own shard beneath her hoof. In Horos, she had thought more than once that the more enemies she made... the higher the chance that she might end up killed so well she actually stayed dead, and then she would be free of the insanity of it all, of the fact that perhaps even the Oracles and the attempts at going home were just failures waiting to happen...
But she cannot allow him to claim she did not want to live, if things were different. That a part of her locked away in the icy cold caves of the mountain that was her field of communion didn't scream and wail and beg to have not made the mistake in the first place that had ruined everything, taking away any chance she might have had to learn what it was like to be free and to love and to know a family and peace. Set's blade cuts along the line of her lower ribs and pulls a line of crimson to spill over her dun coat and she hisses in pain even as she feels his bone crack beneath the force of her hooves.]
What I do in this world doesn't change anything in mi-- !
[She tries to force him to understand, to see that the offers were torture to her. Even if she became stronger here, more magical here, more able to channel Meridian spells or her shard's power, none of that would matter once she returned to a world with no magic, no shards, and no Tree. She would be just a jinba again, a single jinba against an entire war party--
But the sand hits her first. Hayame nearly bites off her own tongue from the sudden force of it, digging her back hooves in to try and fight it... but she can't. It throws her off balance and the heavy weight of her body becomes a disadvantage instead of a strength, and she begins to topple backward in a dangerous flail of hooves and powerful legs. Intent on dragging him with her, unwilling to give up the chance to grapple and bring her weight back into play in her favor, she twists and reaches for him-
And her fingers grab sand. They scramble for purchase in a god that had temporarily thrown away solid flesh, but their minds collide instead and within it... That man. That same shade she had seen lurking behind him in the desert, the one with the flowers, the one who made her hackles rise in instinctive rejection, sensing something possessive and all consuming in the eyes and voice that made her want to strike, burn, ruin before his claws sunk any deeper into the god she had sworn her service to, before his whispers took further root in a man she-]
If I did not want you, I would cast you from my hearts! I would rip your hair from my head! I would let you fall to Zenith without a single care- !
[She hits the ground with a loud, bruising sound, twisting and kicking in a frenzy to try and roll over and get back up, but all of it is instinct only- her mind is in Communion, and if she cannot get a hold on Set's form when he is sand... she lashes out at that man's instead, kicking, biting, trying to grab his hand and twist it, rip it from Set's so that she might crush him underhoof like she had the flowers in the field-]
no subject
[She denies it to defy him even though she has always been torn between her innate desire to live and her inability to see any way to cleanse her dishonor but a glorious warrior's death. In Kenos, alone without a single friend or way out that she could see, she had tried to shatter her own shard beneath her hoof. In Horos, she had thought more than once that the more enemies she made... the higher the chance that she might end up killed so well she actually stayed dead, and then she would be free of the insanity of it all, of the fact that perhaps even the Oracles and the attempts at going home were just failures waiting to happen...
But she cannot allow him to claim she did not want to live, if things were different. That a part of her locked away in the icy cold caves of the mountain that was her field of communion didn't scream and wail and beg to have not made the mistake in the first place that had ruined everything, taking away any chance she might have had to learn what it was like to be free and to love and to know a family and peace. Set's blade cuts along the line of her lower ribs and pulls a line of crimson to spill over her dun coat and she hisses in pain even as she feels his bone crack beneath the force of her hooves.]
What I do in this world doesn't change anything in mi-- !
[She tries to force him to understand, to see that the offers were torture to her. Even if she became stronger here, more magical here, more able to channel Meridian spells or her shard's power, none of that would matter once she returned to a world with no magic, no shards, and no Tree. She would be just a jinba again, a single jinba against an entire war party--
But the sand hits her first. Hayame nearly bites off her own tongue from the sudden force of it, digging her back hooves in to try and fight it... but she can't. It throws her off balance and the heavy weight of her body becomes a disadvantage instead of a strength, and she begins to topple backward in a dangerous flail of hooves and powerful legs. Intent on dragging him with her, unwilling to give up the chance to grapple and bring her weight back into play in her favor, she twists and reaches for him-
And her fingers grab sand. They scramble for purchase in a god that had temporarily thrown away solid flesh, but their minds collide instead and within it... That man. That same shade she had seen lurking behind him in the desert, the one with the flowers, the one who made her hackles rise in instinctive rejection, sensing something possessive and all consuming in the eyes and voice that made her want to strike, burn, ruin before his claws sunk any deeper into the god she had sworn her service to, before his whispers took further root in a man she-]
If I did not want you, I would cast you from my hearts! I would rip your hair from my head! I would let you fall to Zenith without a single care- !
[She hits the ground with a loud, bruising sound, twisting and kicking in a frenzy to try and roll over and get back up, but all of it is instinct only- her mind is in Communion, and if she cannot get a hold on Set's form when he is sand... she lashes out at that man's instead, kicking, biting, trying to grab his hand and twist it, rip it from Set's so that she might crush him underhoof like she had the flowers in the field-]
You do not know anything, shade!