Not quite coherent, Labradorite's words were a promise of safety. The insectoid creature curled in on themself, quills rattling weakly as the weight of their body felt too much to fight against. "Alone," the Zoisite repeated, mandibles clicking with the weak murmur.
Later, would they contemplate the gravity of Labradorite's decision to stand with them? Perhaps. Right now, they were barely able to think of the present, much less the consequences laid out bare before them.
Curled up in a ball, their head twisted so it could see out at the world through a sideways lens. Weary, putrid yellow eyes squinted at Labradorite. If they understood, they showed no sign; only their heavy legs twitching closer to their center, a blood-soaked coat of bristles and broken spines.
They tried to fight off the urge to slip into the darkness, but trying to do anything else felt like a herculean task. They couldn't keep it up, could they? "... rest," the Zoisite said after a heartbeat. Submission seemed like the only answer. They were exhausted, and even keeping their eyes open was proving to be a daunting task. Everything in them wanted to give up, to fall into slumber-- mere sleep, chrysalis or death, the lines were as blurry as their vision, and they were losing the strength to care which it ended up being.
@V-Labradorite-One
Everything constricted around the Zoisite's body. It was lucky, perhaps, that they could still breathe with the immense pressure weighing down on its cracked carapace.
At least the pressure brought them some focus, pulled them to the present. There was nothing they could do, unable to move, but they also couldn't slip down so easily into rest with the feeling of weight grasping at all sides.
The Zoisite drew in their magic, perhaps on instinct or something more, reserving their strength. Their body began to slowly stitch together, magic weaving to try and staunch the bleeding now that the blood was being held where it could pool and clot.
Golden eyes stared up at Labradorite, barely able to stay open. Still, it was progress. Their body was healing, somehow, after all of that. Their energy was run so thin now though, they were completely defenseless-- completely in the hands of their clutchmate.
@V-Labradorite-One sorry for the delay and sorry Zoi isn't doing much aa
It'd felt the spark, the jolt of magic that signified a successful spell, but it didn't see what exactly that random spark actually caused. Zoisite's lack of movement was concerning for a brief moment. It'd make sure it was still breathing, make sure there was still light behind it's eyes, and only then would it somewhat relax.
The bleeding was lessening, at least. Or, that's what it thought was happening. It was hard to tell with everything already stained with neon or oily ichor. It considered drawing upon it's magic again, hoping that it'd have some useful effect. But it was no spellcaster, and the magic it'd been drawing on was wildly predictable? What if it made everything worse? What if it finished the fight Khavur had started?
It settled- still not anywhere near relaxed, but in a slightly more comfortable position- along the outskirts of the clearing, gaze shifting from the trees to Zoisite and back again. Occasionally It'd meet Zoisite's many golden eyes, but more often it's gaze was drawn to the cracks on it's carapace.
Keeping watch, it seemed, for however long was needed.
It's okay! Let me know if you wanna time-skip an hour or two or however long until the Zoisite is less hurty.
The Zoisite lay limply where their hatchmate had left them, feeling cold and numb from shock, but their gemstone was finally doing its work. Resting their head at an angle, they could peer up and watch Labradorite settle a ways away, setting up a watch.
Time moved slowly. While the instectoid creature didn't get much strength back from resting, as much of the energy was going directly into knitting together its carapace, as its attention drifted between a dreamlike daze and reality, their thoughts were finally starting to return to them. With this came a terrible feeling of dread, one that exhausted them as much as the blood loss.
Their body was marred with more than just scarring. Their coarse fur was soaked with golden blood and oil, several of their quills broken or torn entirely from their bases. If one went further, they would find the heart of the beast, no longer pounding with adrenaline but quivering weakly.
Zoisite had never been good at understanding their own emotions; unfortunately, the Chaos Forge did not forge creatures with emotional intelligence or depth. There was no training that Zoisite had been given to express or name the number of feelings that surged through it at any given point. Their own lifegiver gave it a series of ultimatums as a grub: simple, hard facts, that did not include emotions in the equations, and when Zoisite had killed and promptly puked from the experience, the Overseer hadn't the breadth of knowledge to deal with that either.
If their elders couldn't explain it, then they were left without the tools to be anything more than a stunted repeat of their predecessor. Perhaps worse. A creature capable of killing, a creature who would indeed kill and harm and not knowing how to process anything that came after the terrible storm. Self-destruction, inevitable?
Thoughts were already slipping off the edge of the Zoisite's mind. Emotions rose and fell, nauseating in the way they churned in the kaiju's gut. The fight was being shuffled farther back into the recess of their mind-- unable, truly, to process the harm it had done without, without, without-- and instead, their mind sharply turned to lock on one key moment.
"Labradorite," V-Zoisite-One croaked from the floor. "You're not a coward."
@V-Labradorite-One
Labradorite answered their thoughts with its own. V-Zoisite-One stared forward with unblinking eyes at the oil-slicked hide of their hatchmate, slowly processing the words. They found that they agreed, that they were not... weak, at least, not in physical form. There was something wrong with Zoisite, perhaps, but it was not... weakness. At least, it seemed like the wrong word.
"We survived it," V-Zoisite-One answered. That... That was the key to success, in the framework they had been provided. As long as they survived, that in itself was a form of success. Unfortunately, nothing about the moment felt like a victory. Perhaps because they had fled, but the alternative... That chaotic, self-destructive, total annihilation stared from the shadows. The cost had not been cheap, and each breath burned. The insectoid rasped: "Worse for wear."
They were quiet for a moment longer, consciousness struggling not to fall into stasis. "Yes," Zoisite agreed with a small click. Khavur had wanted a fight, and a fight she had gotten. The monster could still feel the slick of oil and blood cloying to their body, the phantom sensation of something brushing their tail causing it to snap shut behind it, tearing up some grass. Zoisite did not notice this, too overwhelmed by various sensations and exhaustion.
"... water," Zoisite added after a moment, shoving their heavy body up with weak, wobbling legs. They felt strong enough to move, now, the fresh scarring along side their carapace strong enough to prevent the wound from seeping further.
@V-Labradorite-One we'll finish this thread one day (so sorry for the delay aa)
Zoisite seemed to be getting stronger- all the blood on its carapace seemed tacky and old, not wet and fresh. Was it strong enough to return to Draco? They had to, eventually, but Labradorite found itself dreading that moment. Would they get in even deeper trouble for not only running, but hiding away for a day? If they weren't already looking for them-
'We survived it' It knew that Zoisite meant that as a comfort- a small victory. But was that all they could do? Simply survive batter and bruised? Worse for wear. It wanted to succeed- to thrive, but all evidence so far pointed to that being a far off future, if even a future at all. "Next time, we will do more than just barely survive." Could it keep that promise? Itd try it's best to, at least.
At Zoisite's request for water it stood, scanning the treeline. It knew the river to be sone distance away, but maybe there was a small pond nearby? Almost hilariously close by was a decent sized pond, fed by a trickling creek that disappeared into the trees. It was surrounded by foliage- some of which was blossoming- and perhaps the thickness of the trees and brush was why they hasnt noticed it. It was, in all, a perfect little place of respite- a hidden oasis in an ocean of trees. "I see water, it's very close." It began to walk them both over to the pond- keeping its pace slow so Zoisite could easily keep up.
As they walked, questions bubbled in its mind, before finally escaping to the surface. "Have you spoken to Khavur before?" It asked, "Do you have any idea why it would've.." it paused, searching for words, "..snapped?"
It bent down to drink a couple sips of water, before moving away to give Zoisite a little more space.
(one day... and no worries!)