Her mortal body stirred, pulsating gently despite the horror and tragedy that swelled within her mind. Her ears softly twitched as her heart raced, tachycardic in her chest.
In their vision, Valeska held her ... clutching the golden woman close as if she were something much more precious than she was. Amaranth felt hollow, cold, despite the valiant efforts of the other to warm her spirit. Amaranth's head draped over those plush silver shoulders, white fur up her nose as Valeska shook with fear, and rage, and horror. Tears flowed freely from those once-gentle golden eyes, eyes that were now scarred with a story that was meant to be unseen.
With a wolf that was meant to be invisible.
Unlovable.
Her father had taught her that long ago.
“No one will hurt you, ever again. No one. My strength and my fangs and my rage - it is yours. It has always been yours.”
"Valeska," she breathed, her eyes burning uncomfortably as the word fell from her lips and into the thick fur of Valeska's mane. The single word said so much, so little, all at the same time. It was a word that held the softness of fear, the tenderness of love, the underlying heat of a promise that she would try to return. A word that meant everything to her. For Valeska
was her everything. Her Valeska.
That mortal body quivered once more, struggling against the pain of her mind. Toes twitched, tail quivering. And on her cheeks, too, a soft glimmer of the burning tears she'd tried so hard to contain. Her heart was pounding, the hectic colors of red and gold flashing in the back of her mind's eye —
“Please - you are safe now -” Valeska's paw touched her, and suddenly, she re-emerged into her mortal body with a start. Hectic breathing, pattering heart; her purple gaze found Valeska's and she stilled.
"мой вонючий лось, — My smelly moose" she whispered.
'I am safe, because of you.' Her eyes were soft, her tired head leaning over to drape over Valeska, narrow muzzle
sandwiched between Valeska's chest and paws.
She struggled to wonder why this vision would present to them now, of all times.
"They call on you to vanquish the darkness. The plagues." The words fell from her lips, her body still shaking.
"To restore balance. Perhaps that's why this was shown to us," she continued, nearly breathless.
"I —" she started, but her voice caught in her throat.
'I want to protect you, too,' she numbly thought, internal voice a pathetic whimper. She decided instead, on brief silence, to let the soft scent of pine and snow waft into her nose. The scent of stale blood reminded her, only too vividly, of her failure to protect Valeska when she'd been stolen. Beaten.
"It's too much of them to ask you," she said finally, knowing that Valeska's divinity would lead her into battles that she may not be able to win.
Her body and soul ached. The magic of the herbs wearing off, leaving her to stew in the after-effects.
These gods. They would leave Valeska in the dark and yet call upon her to sacrifice everything to serve them.
It would have enraged her, had she not been so exhausted.