Porcupine Ridge [discovery: lotus spring] dirty laundry

Lotus Spring/"The Lotus" being a small spring of cold water at the base of Porcupine Ridge?? Cast off from the melting cap at the top of the mountain??

There was a certain level of difficulty that came with being blind; aside from the obvious of course. Dawa had adapted to this gradually and without complaint. It was not in her nature to complain — as it was not in her nature to do anything, really, aside from her duty.

The task of identifying where one was, became a tedious thing indeed. She felt compelled to explore the territory that the trio had so recently claimed as their home, and traced her steps through the trees. The cleric could have smelled her way along the border, maybe, if the scents were known well enough; however, Dawa knew of at least two new scents that overlay Tenzin's; perhaps more. So, she could not rely upon her snout.

Touch was her strongest asset. It was an ironic ability — to be so strongly tied to the way things felt despite the same sensation bringing her the majority of her pain.

Dawa was slow and steady, stumbling often as she adjusted to this new place. Her bowed legs and oddly twisted bones made for some interesting tread patterns in the mud and soil, as she daintily sloughed her way through it. The sound of calm that greeted her outside of the forest was bizarre, yet welcome. Tall grass tickled her nose, brushing across her sides the way Raheerah's slick fur had clung to her on their claiming day; then, as if to warn her of how slow the journey was, the midday sun beamed it's empty rays across the vale. She felt the warmth suddenly and at first, Dawa did not know what to think.

Her next step took her somewhere entirely new — perhaps undiscovered, and ultimately indescribable. Her paws did not touched down upon smooth and fine, but wet and cold, and she toppled face-first in to a small spring, a speck of dust within the ocean for all she knew.

He followed her. Through the night and the day; be it cold or warm, over terrace or mountain, he followed her. If she should fall behind him, it was still he that followed. Should she descent into the deepest, darkest fathoms, he would follow, and obediently he would trail her into the heavens above, for was it not she, the immortal, the untouchable, whom he truly worshiped? Was it not she that survived the blades of his fangs, the piercing of his nails? Did she wither under his gaze of flame and coal - no, she emerged the only one, deathless. It was she, the eternal, the only one who defied his judgment. And it was she to whom he had pledged his life.

Perhaps she did not know it, and Raheerah would hide it for as long as she shuddered in his presence, for he would not wish to cause her undue discomfort. To further harm her, that was not his intention, though he knew even if he tried he would fail: she was indestructible. He remained silent even as he trailed her footprints, even as he spied her among the rocks and the snow, encroaching on the cliff face. She must not have noticed him, and he would further disguise himself; or would have, had she not suddenly vanished from his sight.

A rumbling erupted in his chest. The beast charged, but could see only the crystal blue of a spring thawed from the snow surrounding. Water trickled and spoke in gentle song, then it showed him to the frail canine collapsed in its breast. He drew back his lips as he approached the edge of the spring, and within him fury, towards the foolhardy spring that dared crop up in her step. He appeared behind her, and instinctively he leaned to grab her, but some field of sanctity held him at bay. As though he encountered some tangible barrier, the beast reeled back with a wild snarl; for he could not touch her, she was holy. He paced, desperate to resurrect her from the clutches of the spring, before he froze and locked his gaze upon her. "Lham." The monster roiled impatiently, and concern fleshed the word, as though seeking permission to raise his Goddess from the trap.

Fathomless. It was all dark and deep to her — a twisting void, within which she spasmed with instinctual enthusiasm, otherwise unfelt. Water forced it's way in to her mouth in the process, wanting to be swallowed up, wanting to fill her belly and choke those tiny lungs. What else could be broken? Dawa felt no fear as she began to drown, the first few moments a blur of frenzied limbs and the sleepy rolling of the spring's fluids.

She touched down at the sound of Lham, which brought a new kind of spasm to life. A more familiar one that shot through her toes and up to the girl's elbows, which buckled, and plunged her dripping face back in to the water. She would not ask for his help until she was truly ready to expire — and even then, her words were hollow, "'Heera--"

He waited, and it pained him to see her scramble in the water, fighting for air, clinging to the surface that slipped away beneath her. Another growl boiled in his chest and threatened to rip from his lips. Why did she play mortal games like this, to fool him? She was mistaken if she thought she could hide her eternity from him; he saw through her. He had seen her, truly, and the amaranthine of her existence. He saw through her illusion, yet she persisted, and she wore such a convincing mirage of panic. He admired her. But no matter how much she pretended, it made his stomach twist, and he wanted no more than to pluck her from the waters-

-and there, she breathed his name, just barely-

-the beast hovered at the edge, gripping the snow and rock. His permission had been granted. She gave unto him the ability to touch, and he would use it well, just this once. Raheerah leaned over and submerged his head in the water, searching with his teeth for the nape of the female. He found her and wrapped his jaws around the back of the neck, so gentle that the creature could not draw blood, but firm enough that he would wrench her out of the water. The touch alone felt dirty and foreign, like every time she drew her nose along his side. It sent spikes through him. He felt frantic to pull her up and release her, to relinquish the touch, for he was unworthy of her.

Raheerah drew her back onto the rocks and stepped away, looking her over with his one molten eye. The cold winter air would soon freeze the moisture on her fur, no matter how warm the sun's rays were this afternoon. He said nothing, despite his concern; if she should feel it necessary, he would obey her, find the monk to warm her, or provide this heat himself. Silence remained fixed on his lips for the moment he held her in his gaze and each breath accompanied a low rumble, awaiting her command.

Spoilers:

As volatile as the beast could be, he was trained well. His shadow loomed over the water, fighting with the darkness that soaked her little body; the chill of the water reached in to her bones, it stung, but not as much as Raheerah's sudden grip upon her scruff. Dawa was hauled ashore in the next instant, dripping wet and shivering — whether that was from the pond or the pain, she could not say. Both sensations were shocking things to her system. Entities fighting for dominion over her.

Her body was then placed on the ground — nearly thrown. Her teeth chattered and grew more envigorated when a ghoulish wind pressed against her. Dawa did the first thing her body asked, and pressed towards Raheerah. She ignored his scent and the feel of the beast's coat, burrowing in it, touching his skin and sparking her own with hot white lightning. Physically, Dawa's breathing became shallow and her crooked tail tucked — falling away from any sort of dominating, proper stature that an Alpha should hold. Clear signs of her pain, which she endured because instinct told her to.

The cold meant death, it was basic, it was bestial. The only language she could truly understand.

He had not meant to depose her so harshly from his grip, but desperation had lent him the need to release her as quickly as possible, so that the sacred air could be restored between them once more. So that her aura could find itself again and once more defend from his darkness, and it would lurk just out of her reach, as she would from his. Raheerah stepped back and watched her, but so little time had passed before she pressed back into him, and he felt his muscles tense. Their closeness caused him discomfort - he did not wish to touch her again. He was not sacred, like she; he was a beast, a monster, the unconquerable darkness, but he was not eternal.

But this was what she wanted. And so, he shifted, accommodating her tiny form. He moved so that he would sit upon his haunches and place both of his front paws on either side of her, cradling her small, moisture-laden form in his warmth. Still, it electrified him, and he would relish the moment he would no longer be obliged to touch the sacred being beneath him.

Raheerah sucked in a breath and cocked his head slightly, looking down at her with his single, burning eye. "Yoouu should not bee wanderiing aloonne, Lham." He rumbled lowly, quietly, as quietly as a thunderous beast could.

He fell around her, steady but slow, and while Dawa was complacent with this, there was a desperate nagging sensation in the back of her mind. Far back, perhaps where the crack in her spirit truly lay. It was something she did not understand — but the darkness that was her protector, her warmth, erupted with his elongated words.

The name of Lham would have made any other poor creature flinch, given their history. There was nothing from Dawa. Only the uncontrollable shivering of her muscles against the bone, her short fur mixing with his swarthy coat, dominated by it. He could swallow her up if he really wanted to, this dragon. "Not alone, with Raheerah." She chimed robotically. As the beast trained one eye upon her, she was oblivious, although a moment later she felt his breath wrap like a scarf around her body.

I keep forgetting to reply to this....

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Raheerah ignored the discomfort of his skin, the uncertainty that occupied his chest and his gut, being so close to her. He would obediently do as she wished, be it hold her in his warmth or give her solitude - should she tell him to leap from the highest cliff, he probably would. Fortunately this was something that Lham did not realize. She knew naught the extent of the beast's loyalty to her. Though it wasn't so much loyalty to her as it was this image he crafted himself - not to Dawa, but to Lham. Still, it held a great deal of power. He was thankful that she was far too modest to acknowledge it.

Her response brought forth another low rumbling. "Iiiii amm not aalwaays wiithiin reeeach." The dragon answered with a huff, looking down at her before he raised his head to stare out toward the valley that cradled them. He thumped his tail in the snow and ushered another low snort before he breathed in, testing the air for scents. "Whheeeere is the monk." Raheerah spoke, still staring out across the valley.