Dawnlark Plains the pit and the pendulum

setting - afternoon, sun breaking slightly through the clouds, warm

she's traveled from herd to herd, observing each of them carefully—their numbers, their weak links, their habits—and so absorbed that she has ended up on the other side of the mountains. 

not that she's much aware; she'd gone around the range instead of over it, like last time, and while she sees the dark peaks (they'd been especially visible on the beach) she's not sure whether or not they're those mountains.

now Avicus stands upon a large, empty plain, surveying a small herd just upwind. they graze in a small depression, tails and ears twitching at errant mosquitoes and flies. she breathes deep, taking in their scent.

she is hungry. her deer hunts had been unsuccessful, so she's had to settle for mice and squirrels.

not to mention, it's strange, now, eating with her ragged tongue. she's used to it being in a certain place, moving a certain way; it almost feels paralyzed, and she's struggled a time or two to swallow food. that, too, has made her ravenous, and there's a hungry set to her face, her eyes deep and sunken.

a russet skeleton's head upon a skeleton's angular body.

alive as she feels, she doesn't look it.

After spending time with Wintersbane, Laurel lingered around; afraid to return home, afraid that everyone would see her for what she was. A slut. A desperate one, at that. Afraid to be ridiculed, afraid to be cast out, afraid... to see Mahler again, to whom she meant nothing. She didn't want to be reminded of that.

A part of her wanted not to return at all to Rivenwood. Why stay someplace where she meant nothing? Why try to build a castle on quicksand?

These thoughts drove her into the wilderness. Not far enough from Rivenwood so that she could not return, but far enough to... well, she wasn't really sure what she was doing, at this point, in all honesty.

Deer graze the plains; how easy their lives must be. They risked death every day, but at the same time, they did not need to think about life or living it very much at all. What a great way to live it must be! She lamented the fact that life was so difficult for those like her, instead, as she encircled the meadow, until finally, she ran into someone who was arguably worse off than her.

It took her a few seconds to realise the sunken face that she looked into.

Indra!

Oh, what had happened to Merrick's once beautiful daughter now? Laurel did not even know her own name, but she could feel a greedy madness consume her when she watched the woman. Indra. The plan.

Kill her.

Even Iliksis wanted her dead, but how could she kill her dearest sister? For a moment Laurel just stared and looked at her, a look of sorrowful pity on her face to see how this life had mistreated her.

But you'll make her next life so much better, dearest.

Indra!

the deer spook. they scatter in different directions, and had she not been distracted by the call, Avicus could have taken off after one of the more decrepit members of the herd, taking advantage of the confusion. as it was—

her gaunt gaze lights upon the woman, her face cold as the glacier that had healed her.

Hyor-ah, Avicus says, then freezes, mortified. it's the first word she's said since. . . 

and the graceful glide of consonants, slipping past lips and teeth—oh! she sounds no more intelligent than a suckling pup. perhaps this is why her mother does not speak.

Hyyyor-ah, she repeats, more forcefully, and spit slithers from the corners of her mouth. she spits, snarling, curling her stunted tongue out before snapping it back in, behind her bared teeth;

the woman's presence at any other time would have angered her,

now, in the face of her deformity, she is beyond incensed.

The word made no sense, but it showed that something was wrong with Indra. Oh, what had they done to her? She looked like a wreck; destroyed, battered, bruised... What have they done to you? Laurel muttered, her words no more than a whisper beneath her breath, though it could be heard by Indra herself. Should she try to caress and soothe Indra now, in this state, to bring her back to the present? But she did not realise she was Indra. The angered look on her battered face showed how very much she did not realise that she was facing her dear sister. Oh, Indra, to have fallen so far...

Time to release her. But Laurel was not a violent wolf. For all of her bark she did not have much bite. Could she truly..? And to Indra..?

Like a rabid wolf Indra looked at her, bewildered and filled with uncontained rage. It was the only humane thing to do! But how could she!

With pity did Laurel look upon the enraged Indra until finally she said: I will release you. YES, dearest, YES! That's my girl. Let the violence flow. She did not, refused to give in to Iliksis' voice lapping at her insides and calling her to arms. Yet she did give in to the violence, because it was the only way she could rescue Indra. And perhaps, just perhaps, the children in her womb...

Finally Laurel lashed forward with teeth exposed (for she knew Merrick's daughter would never let go willingly, and so it must be taken by force, no matter the cost); clumsy in battle and a lot less attuned to it than Merrick's daughter — than Indra — but in much better health to balance the scales.

i will release you.

the words mean nothing. Avicus stares at her, face contorted in confusion—and then the world shifts under her paws as the woman advances, fangs bared.

any other time in her life, the girl would have met this challenge head-on. as it is. . .

Avicus turns tail and runs, lanky limbs churning up dust and prairie grass behind her. she will not have the strength or stamina to last for very long, but if she can at least outrun the woman, find a place to hide—

hunted

she is being hunted.

for the first time in her young life, Avicus is not the hunter;

but the hunted

though the woman is haunted —

she runs.

The warm sun was in stark contrast to Laurel's mixed feelings and the intent of the leap to kill. Heavy rain and thunder crashing would have suited well her stormy feelings. Iliksis spurred her on with his taunts and jeers, but she did not do this for him. She did not even do this for herself, truly.

She did this for Indra.

Her poor sister had been so battered in this life. Much more than in her previous. It made sense, being a daughter to the demon child that had killed her in the first place. Oh, cruel fate. But her next life would be better, Laurel would make sure of it! Her next life, she would fix everything that had been done wrong in this one.

She ran, and Laurel did not stop a beat to follow. It was easier this way. She was not a fighter, but she was a hunter. It was easier both to tell herself this was for the better as well as that the chase, the hunt, matched her skillset better than an outright fight.

Laurel did not relent, following across the outstretched plains with a snarl on her lips and adrenaline rushing through her veins.

there's no way Avicus could outrun Laurel, all things as they were. but she's leaner, nimbler—even if a little stymied by hunger and fatigue—and she can at least make it difficult for the woman.

she darts to one side, then to the other, skidding wildly. she zig-zags across the plains, making a beeline for the deer, which continue to flee.

if she can bring them within the herd. . .

danger for them both, of course, of flying hooves and heavy bodies. but the resulting confusion might work to her advantage. she has to try, anyway.

but it's hard to catch up with deer, much less outrun them.

she is tiring, but the will to live is greater.

for now.

She set off, finding a spur of will to live greater than Laurel had appreciated, considering her appearance. Teeth flashed as Laurel growled in her pursuit. She wanted nothing more than to sink her teeth into flesh; to release Indra from this world, and perhaps also just a little bit to hurt Merrick. To take her wishes for revenge into her own paws.

Ahead of them were the deer. Laurel didn't realise what Indra was doing until she saw they were headed straight for them. She sped up, determined not to risk her own skin by getting mixed up in between the herd, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to make it.

at this point, it's a suicide mission.

one deer is slower than the rest, and Avicus launches herself at it, teeth bared, attempting to get the deer between herself and Laurel. the terrified animal bleats—an older doe, past fawn-bearing years—and stamps her hooves, one coming dangerously close to her cheek.

but is it better to get brained by a deer in the heat of the hunt, than killed by some crazy woman hell-bent on god knows what? Avicus thinks so.

she maneuvers around, eyes flashing, trying to keep both the animal and her great-aunt in her periphery.

oh, how she wishes Karst was here.

she shouldn't have left him.

better to die upon that mountain, than lose her life to Laurel.

The slowest of the deer came into range, and Indra almost got her lights knocked out by it. Torn between wanting to rescue Indra and wanting to relieve her from this life by whatever means, Laurel could not help but feel her heart squeeze as she watched it. Indra was surprisingly spry and witty considering how bad she looked; a mixture of sorrow for what she must do and pride filled Laurel.

The deer was in between them now and for a moment Laurel lost sight of Indra; but she knew that Indra would be on the other side once she passed it. Instead of slowing down so that she could get to Indra's side, Laurel ran forward at the same speed; she would catch Indra on the other side of this deer, and not waste any of her energy on doubling back.

the doe takes off, leaving nothing between them.

something within Avicus snaps.

she has never had a solid grasp on her base instincts to begin with, often giving into violence, but had always managed a tenuous hold for one reason or another. but Aventus's ascent, Moonwoman's feigned magic, and now Laurel's attack—

it all built up. spilled over. tumbled out, in snarling and spitting, raving and drooling, a girl turned to fire.

she launches herself at the woman, grasping for her throat, reaching to pummel her sides, hoping to drive her aunt into the dirt until she is no more, no more, NO MORE

she sees nothing, lost in rage, and blood more or less literally blinds her soon, anyway

she'll pull the spine out of her, present her head to Father,

then who is the better of them?

who is the best of all of them?

she bites down in giant snaps, tasting empty air, hoping one of them will strike true and snap Laurel's neck in two.

Finally the deer between them cleared, and Laurel was glad for her patience. What she didn't expect was the immediate attack that followed. There was a madness in Indra's eyes when she lunged forward, and once more Laurel was reminded that though this vessel housed Indra's soul, her memory was wiped clean and she was also Merrick's daughter, a different person. Laurel shrieked when she was lunged at but managed to move out the way just in time to prevent being thrown to the ground, done for. Teeth grazed at her fur and scraped past skin, leaving smarting marks, a few times but did not manage to bring her down yet.

Laurel was no fighter, and in perfect condition she didn't think she could've ever fought Merrick's daughter, who was more trained in such matters. But she remembered the Indra she had wanted to put out of her misery — remembered how pathetic she had looked — and she knew that she had a chance. She knew she had to push through. She wished that she would've been here by the side of someone like Xan or Mahler — her heart squeezes in agony as she thought of how he was not — but as with everything in her life, Laurel was left to her own devices. The only one she had and the only one she could trust was Laurel, and it fueled her belief that she could get the upper hand and end Indra's miserable life. She'd always be alone, that was how it would be.

Unless she would kill Indra now.

Unless she could have Indra be reborn and shaped by her own ideals, back in her life as the reliable subservient sister she had been before.

She'd have her sweet, sweet Indra back. At what cost? It was worth it; every bit would be worth it.

And where attacks from men had always made her flinch in terror, this time Laurel felt bloodlust churn in her heart and she felt determination rush through her veins. This time, she could do it, and she felt zealously righteous in what her hand would be in their intertwined destinies.

Without hesitance Laurel lunged back at Indra, eager to slow them down to a halt so that she could snap her neck and kill her; no more than a prey, now, think of it as hunting. Think of the razor-sharp teeth as hooves kicking back. Teeth exposed and eager to draw them to the ground, for teeth to seek purchase until Indra would stop moving.

So that she may finally have peace.

So that she may be reborn in a better body, a healthy body.

So that Laurel may have her back.

lightning flashes in her mind;

each strike, each blow, setting off a cacophony

thunder rolls—

or is it just the growl in her throat—and her aunt's?

so entwined they are, she isn't sure where her body ends and Laurel's begins. fur caught in the wind, whorling; blood spattered upon the prairie;

they both will be the worse for wear from this encounter.

and yet, Avicus the worst of it, and just as soon as the madness had began, it ends. fight snaps back to flight, and she skitters, whirling, kicking up dust and grass, bits of pelt,

flying, flying, sailing away from Laurel from all the strength she has left,

and for an instant she feels free, borne on the breeze, stronger than she has before. flying

over

the edge of Larksong Grotto, at the end of the plains,

tumbling down into darkness that envelops and embraces and entices

until she shrieks and sees and senses no more.

Teeth clicked against teeth, against fur, against skin. Grazing, raking. Her teeth, Indra's teeth; it all became a blur for Laurel. There was smarting pain in her face, her shoulder. Her whole body was aching and the growls rumbling in both their throats replaced the missing rain and thunder of their encounter.

Finally Laurel felt herself lose footing. They disconnected and Laurel grabbed onto the land beneath her hind legs for dear life. Feet slipped but she somehow managed to use the adrenaline still rushing through her veins to grab onto the edge of the plains. While the echoes of the shrieks of Merrick's daughter seemed to surround her Laurel finally managed to hoist herself up onto the ledge. Her body hurt, blood marred the ground where she had come up.

She collapsed onto the ground, panting heavily. The shriek stopped, and Laurel felt tears at the corners of her eyes. Finally, she had managed, and she'd done it alone. She didn't need a man by her side to achieve what she needed to.

Laurel covered her painful face with her paws and cried to herself. Relief and joy, this time, but a part of her also wept over the grief that she had never been able to express, the grief of being turned away by Mahler, who was supposed to be her last chance, her last stop. A stark reminder that such a thing simply did not exist. Not for her, anyway.

She cried until she ran out of tears and then, finally, she took a sharp inhale and rose to her feet. With a slight limp in her step Laurel started to head back towards Rivenwood. She hadn't intended to return at all, but now she knew that she needed to grab this second chance with both her paws, for the blood that tainted her lips was the same blood that would be born from her womb.

She just knew it.