Avishraa Reloaded

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{{wst>pinkgothic|The peace and quiet makes for a blissful difference, though the distance to her brother Atiyath still nags at her mind. But even with Shahrivrath permitting long minutes of pause, it takes no genius to know it would be pushing it to ask to go back to the cave; not to mention simply returning without the slightest inquiry.

The afternoon sun felt strange on her scales, her shape having been wrung out by the semblance of fever that came with the magical assault minutes ago. It was an awkward, mid-way sensation, suspended somewhere between feeling ill and healthy, if sticky. Shahrivrath had come to rest his shoulderblades against the large tree, gaze not budging from her, but the glance merely a neutrally watching one - there was neither scrutiny nor scorn... at least right now.}}

{{wst>nemesis|Kemeneth pushes herself up, dragging her forepaws over her face, her shape twitching. Swallowing hard then, the young dragoness lowered her forepaws, kneeling for a little time before she stood. She staggered a little and swiped at her eyes again before she stretched, her eyes closing.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|'Have a few minutes to yourself,' was probably never interpreted in a more bizarre way - sacrificing conversation, but not relenting the control of visual contact. If Shahrivrath is up for any form of dialogue, then he's not showing it - nor any hint that he'd be aversed. Either he's incredibly hard to read, or the strangest dragon she's ever come across.}}

{{wst>nemesis|Kemeneth actually takes the time then to look at Shahrivrath, taking in his appearance then mentally comparing it to her own. She looks away then and sits, staring at the ground, chewing on her lower lip, lost in thought. The young dragoness closes her eyes, carefully going over the recent events.

It doesn't dull the pain any but nor does it refresh it. It's just there; a dull and throbbing ache. She flicks a look back to him then away again, remaining quiet.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|As the silence continues being their companion, it slowly becomes apparent that it is not quite the friend it should have been. Why was she thinking about these dreadful things? They weren't going to change because she discovered where things had gone wrong. It wasn't increasing the pain - but it was making her far more aware of it, living within her like some parasite.}}

{{wst>nemesis|Kemeneth narrows her closed eyes and half snarls, clearly angry but only at herself before she gives herself a hard shake. She flicks her tongue across her lips then opens her eyes; taking a better look around, trying to distract herself before she whispers: "Master... will the pain ever fade...?"}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|Shahrivrath nods once, briefly, but definedly. "Time heals all wounds," he assures, without that his tone is particularly soothing - it's just presented as a fact. One of his antennae twitches as he speaks up, though, indicating irritation - why was he being made to speak the obvious? Worse yet, why did he bother to answer? Moments later, his muzzle scrunches up in self-criticism, scales briefly folded against themselves.}}

{{wst>nemesis|Kemeneth nods slightly, falling silent although she is grateful. She looks down at herself then, sitting down once more, and allowing her eyes to drift closed. She didn't let her thoughts wander this time though and she looks at herself from an outside perspective.}}

{{wst>pinkgothic|And there's silence again, broken only by the sound of grinding joints as Shahrivrath shifts his weight and rolls his shoulders. Still watching.}}

{{wst>nemesis|Kemeneth lets herself sprawl on her belly; undignified though it might be, casting a look over her shoulder as she spread her wings. It's only then that she realises how... deformed she is. Sighing heavily she pushes herself up to a crouch her head lowered, accepting - for the first time - whatever may come.}}