The pain was excruciating. If her glasses weren't already smeared with gore, she was certain she'd be blinded by pain instead. She held her front left paw, broken at a dangerous angle, close to her chest. Walking on three legs was exhausting, never mind the heavy package that was hers to bear all the way back to Armada: Hanako's body. Makara couldn't wipe the blood from her glasses with her paw broken wasn't sure she could bear the unobscured sight of her body. All she got was smears and flashes between the mess - her ear, limp and lifeless. The slash of red that had become her throat after the worm had cut her down. A small - so very small to her now - paw, curled in on itself. That was her mother. Bits and pieces, interrupted by a wash of blood.

Makara panted heavily with the effort, dragging Hanako by the scruff out across the glaciers. In some ways she was lucky they were so close to home, but she couldn't imagine Basilisk would feel the same way once she brought this news home. Once he saw Hana's body. Patrols would be tripled, wolves would fear for their lives, nothing would ever be the same again. Not after what she'd seen writhing underneath the ice. She pushed the thought out of her head, burying it deep. There was no time to dwell on what she'd survived, since it wasn't over yet. Next she had to live through this. Makara cried out when she stumbled, hitting her broken paw on the ground before she staggered back upright. She stopped for a minute to catch her breath, panting hard in the cold, the cloud of her breath in her face further blinding her. Between the dried blood and the ragged gasps of her own breath, she would take being rendered sightless. Looking at what had come to pass was too painful. Armada's border was close, she could smell it, she just wasn't sure how she would survive the journey between here and home.

"speech"

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The cold bite of the air was overpowered by the reek of blood, thick enough to clog Ronan's throat. He followed the smears across the ice and recognised an exhausted effort to drag bleeding dead weight. It didn't take long for him to catch up, and as he approached he found himself wishing that he hadn't, that he was the sort to turn a blind eye to such things. To her.

Padding over, he didn't make any scathing comments, no I told you so's sneered from his lips, because what could he even say? They'd spoke of her family and even with the blood he could catch the resemblance, that Makara couldn't leave her behind. She should have though; Ronan was no medic, but even he could see that she was in no condition to be putting any weight on her leg. That she didn't have much left in her.

Most days Ronan felt that way too. A distant sense of self settled upon him, his mind and body moving on autopilot, because if he gave up now what was it all for? His mind immediately went to logistics, he didn't think he'd be able to carry them both but he would work something out, always did.

"Makara." He said, a blank expression set on his features, tension had his shoulders hunched slightly as he took to standing beside her. "Lean on me. I will carry her."

She thought that she had gotten used to the funny ways that fate liked to poke and prod holes in your sanity, but nothing could have prepared her for seeing Ronan stiffly come to her side at this moment. Makara's glasses were still too smudged to see, but it was something about the way he walked to accommodate those wings... just from the approaching stride, she could tell it was him. Once he got close enough, his scent finally gave him away entirely. A sick little laugh sounded in her head at the absurdity of it all, and for a moment she thought that she was laughing out loud and tried to snap her jaw shut to stop the sound, but the only sound that eked out was the click of her teeth when she closed her mouth. Pick your jaw up off the floor. There's work to do.

Hot tears that she'd been holding back bit and stung at her eyes behind the goggles, steaming them up from the inside out. At least he couldn't see that through the dried blood (she hoped). What reaction would be normal? What wouldn't push him away? As much as she wanted to scream and rage that life wasn't fair and that he'd conjured this scene up out of her nightmares with his casual cruelty, his utter indifference... she couldn't. She was finally without words. Her mother's violent and sudden death had stolen them all. For an absurd moment, she pictured Hanako hiding all of her words in some secret pocket. Not yet, Makara. Not until you're ready. I'm keeping them for now.

She did have her daughter's best interest in mind, once.

He spoke gruffly, his face still carefully schooled into neutrality. She wanted to shake him and scream: DON'T YOU SEE HER LYING THERE? SHE'S DEAD. DEAD. I WILL NEVER GET AN APOLOGY. I WILL NEVER FEEL HER WARMTH AGAIN. I WILL SEE HER EVERY TIME I STARE OUT AT THE NORTHERN SEA. I DON'T TRUST YOU WITH THIS SACRED TASK. YOU ARE A FOOL WHO CANNOT SEE BEYOND THE END OF YOUR OWN NOSE.

But she had no words. And she needed him.

Makara nodded behind her blood spattered goggles. All of the blood rushed to her head at once as she gently laid Hanako down and stumbled until her injured leg was aligned with his strong shoulder. She tried not to crush his wing between her shoulder and his leg, but the relief that passed through her body when she allowed herself to lean on him made her sloppy. As much as it killed her, she ceded her mother's body to his strength. He could carry her body home. Makara would carry her memory.

"speech"

pixel by king-lulu-deer on DA - coding by xarae