when the moon fell in love with the sun

As Iolaire was tending to the last of the wounds, Deathbelle stepped back. 'I'm fine. Go tend to yourself.' Iolaire blinked once, then turned and walked away at a fast clip. Soon the darkness would absorb her small frame. She had no fear that anything would happen to Belle on her way back to her pack. The bad thing of the day had already happened, after all.

Walking through the darkness on her own was helping a bit and hurting a bit. On her own, she was beginning to calk down since she didn't have to worry about having someone look at her face. Also, on her own... she was realizing just how much of a selfish asshole she had been. Belle couldn't understand though. In a sense, the larger woman's life had been given to her. She had been born into a ruling lineage. Events had worked out just right and she had been placed in charge. Iolaire, on the other hand, had had to fight for everything that she had. She fought for her position, she fought for her skill. Her good looks had played a large part in that fight. She relied upon them heavily. If they were gone...

With a groan, Iolaire altered her course. She wouldn't go back to the Armada just yet. Not until she assessed her injuries thoroughly in the daylight. Tonight she would bed down next to a stream. In the morning, she would deal with her face.