Fight Me

Her husband's voice behind her made her gasp softly with a startled jump, her eyes shining with unshed tears as they snapped open and her head turned to look at him over her shoulder. The pieces of the dummy he had clearly just finished decimating were scattered about the floor and she watched as he sheathed and sat Embershard down. She had somehow entirely missed his presence in her rush to escape everyone else that was outside of this space. She wished that it was a relief for him to be here with her, but when she was desperately clinging the any last shred of control and trying to keep everyone—including Artorias—from seeing the raw pain hidden beneath it felt like the last fragile thread that was keeping her together snapped. She had only wanted to be alone to collect herself and lock away these unstable emotions again, but that seemed to be an impossibility in this castle with so many eyes on her at all times.

Her ears folded back and she turned away from him again as he started to move toward her, gritting her teeth as she struggled with her own emotions, her shoulders trembling gently under the weight of it all. She didn't want to cry, she didn't want to mourn. She had done all of that and she just wanted to move on—but she couldn't. She was too lost, too angry, too mad at the unfairness of the world. How could she guide her pups and her siblings through this grief if she couldn't even do it for herself. She wanted to lash out, but at what? She couldn't control death, she couldn't control fate. Nothing would bring back what was lost and she was left trying to put pieces back together for everyone and she couldn't figure out how to put them back together for herself.

She held onto that frustrated anger as she finally got to her paws again, turning around toward Artorias and stalking toward him to meet him somewhere half way in the middle of his dojo. "Fight me," she demanded as she lifted a paw to shove his shoulder, glaring up at him with desperate, furious anger. Her turquoise gaze still stung with tears, but she refused to acknowledge them. When he didn't immediately give into her demand, a snarl tugged at her lips and she shoved him again, harder this time in the middle of his chest. "Fight me!" Briar demanded again, her voice louder and wavering with emotion. All of this demanded to be funneled into something and she refused to let herself simply break down and cry. She needed to be stronger than that and this was the only thing she could think to do with this pent up, bottled up frustration at the world.

"Briar Carpathius"