"It's not the fire dragon. It's a fuzzy pink one I don't even know but its sure as hell just as menacing." Though he hadn't seem him breathe fire, he didn't want to test that out as his encounter with Raheerah had certainly formed a strong aversion from the heat. Confusion really twisted his features as Khloros appeared to not be disturbed by what he had done. Not questioning it and instead accepting it. How could one just accept something like that? That the one they thought they could trust wanted to originally see him dead. Almost flinching back at what was to come, felt the boy's breath on his head just as he had before. That minute touch over his scar made him shiver and he exhaled, closing his only eye and slumping to the ground in a seated position.

Still, his heart beat was pounding, he had killed Wynry and he had reveled in it but his talks with Booker and now with Khloros. It was changing his perspective on the world and he was not sure he liked it. He opted to stare at the dusty ground as he found himself relenting to the horse's wish. If he took off with Booker, then that would be a mistake the fox wouldn't make twice. This tie with Khloros, this possible "friendship" as he had said they were friends, was one he wanted to severe. But it had reached a point where it would just do him more harm than good to cut the tether. Especially now that the boy knew he did in fact have Booker, if both the pony and the dragon tried to take him down... Voice small, he whispered almost inaudibly, "O-OK."

Defeated, by his own shortcomings, as well as knowing he had no other option if he wanted to stay alive. he kept his gaze on the ground. It had taken him weeks to work on his incubated disease, and it would probably take another prokaryotic some time to figure it out but it could be done. They were all bacteria players and though he was the first, he knew that he wasn't the best at it just yet. This boy was different to all other gembounds and he could feel it even just by looking at him. So he knew he would be bested if it came to a battle of the disease. "I-I'll take you to him." What the fuck was he doing. This was all wrong but he couldn't help it as he stood up. Being nice to people was fucking weird. Possibly sabotaging everything he had worked for just to preserve a "friendship". Friends. Snorting, he wondered if the foal would blindly follow him this time as he had before.

"Hear my words."

Code by Lisa | Table by Azooka

@Khloros

If I could heal him, I would. But I think that whatever is wrong with him... can't be healed.

Khloros stepped back, glowing eyes crinkling slightly as if in smile, gratitude all that showed, echoing the very real relief that flooded through him. It was safe to step back, now. If the answer had been "no," he would have had to be close. Very close. A quick lick at that open eye socket, or over the fox's nose, was all it would have taken. But for now... For now, his would-be killer had said "yes."

"Thank you, Louie," Khloros said softly, heartfelt--his voice breaking again, just a little. He didn't want to make things ugly. Perhaps there was hope for the fox--hope that he could turn around. Be healed. Khloros thought he was a sickness. That he was ill. That he would need to be healed, or healed away, but for now--if he would take the horse to Booker, then it didn't matter.

He didn't need to be close, anymore. Not for now.

Khloros didn't speak, past that. He stepped aside, waiting for Louie to lead, his hooves quietly tapping on the stone.

There is evil in this world.

The black horse watched Louie, his demeanor still every bit the gentle, saddened, betrayed little horse. But inside, he'd gone cold. The anger, the rage, the shock, the betrayal, the stomach-knotting horror at the idea of Booker ill--it had almost taken over, and Khloros had shut it all down. Shut. It. Down.

He was ready to kick out, to snap the fox's neck, to crush his skull. His rage could blind him at any second.

But he didn't want to. He wanted to believe that there was goodness in Louie--somewhere. Something to heal. Something to fix.

But he wasn't going to bet on it.

He followed along, docile and quiet, letting out a soft sniffle as they walked. How best to keep him talking? To keep him--feeling?

"Are you all right?" he tried again, quiet. And he had to ask himself--did he care? Even a little? Or was he only speaking to keep the fox talking, and feeling, as he'd imagined? The answer was yes.

Yes, he cared.

But it was not why he asked.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Louie

The silence they walked in gave Louie time to think. But his thoughts were mostly white noise as he tried to blank his mind from his feelings. Feelings were useless, and though Booker had encouraged him to think another way so as not to become a hollow shell, he felt as though he was too far gone into that "hollow" state he had spoken about. The numbat had Baratheon, the dragon to protect and be protected by. No one seemed to understand that the key to survival didn't hinge on being able to assist others. Yes, there wasn't enough mercy in this world. But those who chose to give mercy were often stabbed in the back.

Thinking on this, he felt his body movements become rigid as they continued to walk. But he wasn't first to speak as he heard the foal nicker behind him, "I'm fine." Electricity seemed to hang in the air as his pelt began to bristle once again. Robotic in his strides, the winding tunnels of the gorge back in the direction he had come from were long and treacherous. Breath being held within his lungs as he tried his best to remain calm and sane, he exhaled in a question, "Why do you think Merry Men chose to begin here in Monoceros?" The gently ebbing pull of the weakened twister began to tug on his fur as they came closer to the middle of the room.

"Hear my words."

Code by Lisa | Table by Azooka

@Khloros

The steepness and narrowness of the trail wasn't lost on the horse, nor was the air tugging at them as they kept going. It wasn't beyond the realm of possibility that Louie still intended to kill him, and he remained watchful, but quiet.

He preferred it didn't come to violence.

"I don't know. Nemesis told me about the Fire and the Wind, and how it lived here, once," he explained softly, referring to the absent twister.
"But I don't know about the merrymen, or why they're here. I don't think anyone wanted to tell me too much--I was only here to look after you," he added, his words at this last a little hollow, dull with the weight of his new knowledge.

Is this even the way to Booker? Probably not. Probably he will try to kill me. Maybe he won't. I would heal him if I could.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

@Louie

Nodding absently to his answer, Louie tried to figure which corner would be the best one... But he felt sick again when Khloros mentioned he had come back to help him and he stumbled on nothing and careened into the hall with his blind side. Scraping up the thick scar tissue, it didn't bleed heavily but he hissed under his breath, saying nothing as he regained his footing and shook out his fur.

"Mmm. Yeah." Beginning off at a pace, his movements had returned to being fluid and sweeping. Nothing more to say, they came to the end of the winding tunnels and he looked up to see the platforms where the dragon was perched and he knew where the numbat lay. Pressing his lips into a hard line, he looked back and nodded his head up towards the platforms, "They're up on my platform. Let's go." Finally admitting ultimate defeat to his feelings, he trudged onward toward the beginning of the steep climb, tail down and head lowered.

"Hear my words."

Code by Lisa | Table by Azooka

-exit Louie-

@Khloros

Khloros followed along in silence.

He waited for an attack that never came, and the farther they went, the more raw his nerves were. He'd gone cold, for now, but that certainly didn't mean he was mature. He was young, and he wasn't ready for this.

He hadn't been ready for Raheerah to burst into his home, taking all he knew and destroying it in flames. He hadn't been ready for the injured, blinded Gembound limping away from that. He hadn't been ready to lose Booker--and he sure as hell hadn't been ready for the betrayal that Louie had laid on him today.

But they were all alive, it seemed. Alive--for now.

And if Khloros had any say in it, they would stay that way.

Louie staggered, smacking into the wall, and suddenly his stiffened gait changed. Khloros pricked up his ears as he followed along; if he wasn't mistaken, the fox's gait had taken on a sudden defeated sort of sag after Khloros had spoken.

Good. Then my words did what I meant them to.

Cold gripped his heart again, and he fought back the icy sliver of guilt he felt for trying to manipulate the fox. He wasn't harming him, after all--not yet--and he hadn't lied once. Not once.

And it didn't matter; none of this did.

Only Booker mattered.

As they ascended into the ledges, Khloros felt a surge of grim and bitter triumph.

He'd had to manipulate. To be ready to outright murder another Gembound. To play on Louie's feelings, and to twist them to suit his needs.

But they were nearing Louie's den--supposedly--and that meant that it had all been worthwhile.

Booker was just ahead.

It had been worthwhile.

________________

BRING OUT YOUR DEAD

(exit Khloros)