middaeg | [closed] and I think of each life as a flower

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[closed] and I think of each life as a flower

Who: Toby and Steven
When: Early Aguril
Where: Out in the wider plains
What: Aftermath of a quest
Warnings: Mild gore, Cwyld

Lion has the eye for small things hiding or fleeing in the long grass, much more than Toby does. Long after she stops seeing the little creatures, the big pink cat finds things to pounce on. She keeps an eye on him, and plans to make her own sweep through the grass before she leaves, but things have gone quieter now and it's time to calm herself with some deep breaths and take stock.

Small bodies litter the ground. The stoats and their riders were all on a scale where they could be stepped on, where she used her feet more than her hands, and she's got red-tainted-with-black blood almost coating her toes on up to her knee blades. When they were even able to find her through Steven's illusions they could barely get through her scaly hide, inflicting tiny cuts and punctures and burned strips that would normally all heal to subtle distortions on her skin within a few hours and be entirely gone with her next molt. The arrows would be the only trouble, itching and needing to be pulled free, but there was the matter of the Cwyld.

Toby's been infected; she can see the darker mottling on her scales around those sites, feel the burning sensation, and knows it's minor, the Wilders will be able to take care of this. She's pretty sure Lion's in a similar state. Steven seems worse off.

"I think it's over," she says. "You were hit a couple of times, weren't you? Let me take a look."

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He's got the sort of headache that you get from squinting at something small for way too long, with tension across his brow and around his temples. At first the glamours had felt relatively easy, but the more moving parts he had to deal with, the harder it got. Still - they made it to the end, didn't they? Even if that means they are surrounded with dead animals.

It makes him feel sick to look at them, and so he averts his eyes when he can. Lion had tried to eat a few of them, and Steven had been forced to intervene - if they were infected, Lion is at risk of being infected, too. Thankfully, Lion listened to him. They've always had a connection, but Bonding to Lion has a familiar has only made it easier to communicate his needs. Lion could sense his fear at the sight, and stopped.

Of course, it didn't all go so smoothly. Towards the end, when the creatures were dismounted, he got too close to some of the frogs. He didn't know to expect the gas, and the momentary paralysis was enough that the tongues could do their worst. He tried to fend it off with the thick carapace around his forearms, but the acidic touch has still left veins of blacks across them, and his wings are even worse.

The delicate material of Fae wings are not reacting to the touch infection well. He's had to drop down into the grass, the stimulation of flying feeling like too much. He tries to focus, looking up at Toby wearily as she comes to see him - triumphant and defeated all at once.

"That... That was even weirder than I thought it'd be," he jokes weakly, before flinching at the various unpleasant sensations. He sinks onto his butt. His eyes are a bit misty. "I think they got me... a bit, yeah."

She gathers some clean grass, cuts it free with a wrist blade, and uses the bundle of plant matter to wipe the worst of the blood off her hands and wrist blades; she knows Steven was unhappy about the killing, and it will be worse if she has to touch him with bloody hands. Her own blood, a distinct deep turquoise, wells and beads in numerous small wounds but scabs are already forming. Normally they'd be dark; with Cywld present they're outright black.

Cautiously, one of her ankles gone stiff from too long an exposure to frogs, Toby goes to a crouch to bring herself lower down.

"The Wilders will be able to help." She scrutinizes his arms, the unpleasant look of his wings, and is at least satisfied that he's not dying. Toby would offer mint water right about now if her waterskin hadn't been punctured by a high-arcing spear. "We may need to get you back to the city to make you entirely whole and clean. That was some good work - we did good today, even if it doesn't look like it."

He doesn't really know how fast the Cywld spreads - he doesn't think it's bad enough to kill him before they get home or anything, but the idea of being tainted by magical disease is frightening even if it's ultimately manageable.

There's so many 'what if?'s about these things.

Lion lumbers over to Steven's side, slumping in the grass tiredly. Steven frowns, cautiously reaching over to try to get a look at Lion's mouth - he's still worried about potential infection from biting those animals.

"I wish... there was something we could do, for these animals. And... for the people that are like this, too." He withholds his gaze, and through the Bond, Toby may feels pangs of regret and sympathy. "I'm sorry that I couldn't help you guys... finish stuff..."

That is, kill.

"I know. I wish there was something to be done as well. Preventing the spread of the infection is a benefit, this is necessary, but it is a terrible thing to be necessary." Then she shakes her head. "It would only have hurt you to try. Your friend was here, and me - we were enough for this."

Toby was angry during the fight, and afraid all out of proportion to how small the creatures were. The Cywld always makes her think of the virus used on her people, though it is at least less virulent and grotesque and painful than the stories. When her father told them some of those listening would cover their eyes after making small cuts under them, to be the afflicted. Toby would go to all fours and raise her neck and tail as high as she could in her best approximation of an Andalite body, to react as her great-grandmother had.

He wonders about the future, about when it wouldn't be enough, but he avoids the topic for now. There's no point in being a downer when they are both still hurt.

He looks out at the field, including the scattering of animal corpses, and then flinches away again.

"Did they get you, too?" It's a bit harder to tell, though some of her blood looks darker than it should be.

Someone will probably be around to gather and burn these, and any plants afflicted. Toby's not at all sure what to do with the carcasses herself. Everyone she and her people have fought have been Yeerks infesting hosts, and when it's possible they try to treat the bodies with care like what they give to those who died free. Even the humans, even the Taxxons. Had these creatures been people of a sort, whipped to a frenzy by the infection, or had it altered them and drove them to group tactics and tool use?

Maybe it doesn't matter.

"Yes, and it isn't pleasant. I'll be fine with some attention, though. How is your Lion?" She stirs, about to rise and then stopping herself. Steven is clearly troubled and she doesn't know if arranging the bodies will help him or not, but she should ask when the moment presents itself.

'Arranging bodies' is something he's genuinely never had to worry about. Gems just vanish when they are defeated, and unless their core shatters, there is no 'body' left behind. Just gems, that could easily be bubble and sent away, to be dealt with later. He's never seen a gem shattered in front of him, but he imagines that collecting the pieces would go much the same.

The only thing his mom left behind was, well... him.

He looks at Lion again, trying to look into his mouth without actually touching him - his own hands are infected, after all - and checks over his paws. It looks like there's some singed fur, so the skin beneath will have to be checked,

"He bit some of them, so I want someone to look at his teeth and stuff," he looks a little bit pale, thinking of it. Meanwhile, Lion yawns in his face. "What happens if you eat infected food? Is there medicine you can take?" He sighs, and then leans over, bumping heads with his familiar.

"You gotta be nice to the doctors, okay Lion?"

Toby's been present for enough mercy runs to the outer city to have at least a general idea. She nods, as always just noticeably wary about the big animal. "Yes. Caught this early, it's easily treated. I wouldn't want him to slip away and escape treatment, of course, but I doubt there will be any lingering effects as it is."

Lion could use a mane-brushing, not that Toby knows what a mane is called, or a brush for that matter. The long pink fur got in the way of a few stray attacks.

"Steven," she says suddenly, deciding to just forge ahead bluntly, the way she knows how to do. "If these were my people, and I was not forced to quit the battlefield, I would try to handle and arrange their bodies in a dignified way. These aren't my people." She tips her horns to one side as if saying, clearly. "But I think it will be good to show them respect and acknowledge that I am accountable."

Not guilty, accountable. Toby's perturbed but not really upset about this, and more concerned for her bondling than perturbed. He seems very young just now, and she would like to try to bring him through this without too much lingering trauma. "It may bother you more. I won't think less of you if you decide to leave. Yet, if you wanted to say something to them, this could be a good time."

Steven is a bit taken back by the suggestion, but not in a necessarily disagreeable way. If anything, the idea just puts him at ill ease. Thinking about bodies or how to arrange them is far beyond his expertise. Not to mention, other factors...

"I... I don't know if we should touch them, more than we have to... what if it makes the infection worse?" He's already not feeling great and the idea of getting more infected is ominous. He feels sensitive to it, somehow. "But..." He trails off, because it's really just a lot to deal with. "Maybe... we could cover them? In leaves, or grass?"

He looks down at his feet.

"If the Wilders don't have to look them over or anything..."

"Ah." Toby's face doesn't change, but that's a flicker of surprise and guilt. She's the Seer. She should be able to consider the future and the ramifications of her own and other peoples' actions better than this. "It's true. I didn't think of that."

She needs to remember not to treat Steven, or other people in this place, like she would her people, and generally she does. They have their own ways, and she doesn't have authority over them. Not that she should have total authority over hers, really, even if they have all accepted that she is a Seer.

"I want to help you, but I don't know how," she admits cautiously. "You haven't seen much death, I don't think?"

"...No," he admits after a few moments of hesitation. Death isn't something unfamiliar to him - he's seen the aftermath of it. Yet, it's always been Gems. A shattering is different. His mom's 'death' was different.

"Not like this. Gems just go poof when you defeat them, and we can take the home and keep them safe... they don't look like this."

He looks in the direction of the dead animals again. How much worse would it be if these were unquestionably people?

She nods, though she has only a vague idea about what 'going poof' means. They may have had a conversation about Gems at some point, maybe disabused her vague notion that they're all inherently small in stature like Steven and Peridot.

"There are good deaths. Or - some deaths are better than others." Toby doesn't think of an old person surrounded by loving family as her image of dying well, unfortunately. "Even a good one hurts to be present for. It should hurt. Pain means a connection to the one who died."

Before coming here, she'd been noticing herself feeling less about it, and knowing that she'll need that distance. "These were not good deaths. I'm sorry that this has been your introduction to it."

His mom probably had a good death, he thinks, unbidden. She got what she wanted. To create something new, and to leave her pain behind. He knows first hand how much that hurt everyone, regardless. He nods with tired but deeply sincere agreement.

He looks out at the field of fallen creatures, taking her words to heart.

"Sorry, little guys," he says, softly. He settles on that idea for a moment, and then looks back at Toby, his voice a bit more steady. "I'll be okay."

She nods.

There's no infection so high up on her body. She removed the enchantment that made it harder to accidentally cut living flesh for the purpose of this outing, but she only really needs it when surrounded by soft people in a place full of blind corners, like the city.

"All right, then. Hold still for a second."

Toby leans down, angles her head to one side, and touches the flat side of one of her bladelike horns to Steven's forehead, under his antennae. It's a gesture of approval and affection, as close to a kiss as she's willing to give.

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[closed] and I think of each life as a flower

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Sorry for the delay!

it's cool!

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