The chains were spicy.

It would have been nice to imagine Valeska, noble High Priestess of Elysium, wholly focused on the task at hand in freeing the captive within the Isle's depths. She had personally led the charge, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before swallowing her terror and clamping down on the nearest chain as she pulled and pulled with every ounce of strength at her command.

The fact of the matter is, in the absence of terror, her mind splintered and was forced to fill the gap with other things - and it grabbed them from every corner of her subconscious.

"Why is this tether so spicy? It is like a hot pepper! Ow! Ow! Such poor design!" she thought through burning gums.

As her mouth sizzled, she remembered the first time she'd ever tried ayahuasca root with Amaranth. That was when she knew her companion to be directly in communication with the gods; where they had always spoken to Amaranth with clarity and ease, Valeska was forced to interpret their strange visions as best she could like a child fumbling through the dark.
What an experience! It had almost made her nauseous at the time...

"What would I be doing now if we had not been taken to this strange land?" she continued to think. They still would have had their five children from before, but what of Aelia, of Amaris - of Amaya? Would they have been the same them as in this place? Or had this Mythris changed them into who they are now? It was an interesting thought, but she scoffed. "No, no. In spite of the cracks leading to Hell, and this raging mountain in the sea, and the sun's death, I still would not change anything."

As more and more wolves gathered around her, her mind continued its meandering path through various topics and scenarios, jaws locked tight as she never ceased pulling at the chain which still burned her lips.

Something flew at her - she barely had time to register - but there was a sudden flash of brown, and she caught the tail-end of Lylith dashing across her peripheral before the girl had already taken the hit. Sacred Wolf Mother! Did she just - Valeska turned to look, but the chain started to slip from her grasp, and she forced herself to hold fast.

Had Lylith just done that - for her?

The sound of Amaranth's cry, however, was her weakness. She abandoned her post long enough to rush to her mate's side, Glitch laying equally unconscious close by; tears filled her eyes as she frantically nudged them both with her muzzle, willing them to rise, but they gave no response.

The chained wolf roared, and the cavern shook.

If there was any hope to save them - it was to finish this.

Valeska shut her eyes as she wrapped her teeth around the searing metal and her flesh burned and burned...

---

And then it was over.

Valeska opened her eyes. She was on her side sprawled comfortably in the grass, and it took her a second to realize that most of the snow had already melted. She pushed herself up with some effort; her mouth ached, that much she knew, but it would heal in time.

The sun (oh, the sun!) was warm against her fur as she enjoyed it for a long, lingering moment before she remembered -

LYLITH! GLITCH! she screamed. Her heart then leapt into her throat as she suddenly recalled her mate's blood-speckled body lyng motionless, and the howl that tore from her throat nearly shredded it.

AMARANTH!

---

A cacophany of voices guided her path. Cruel irony that Valeska was almost entirely unharmed, and she sprinted through the grass on silver legs carried by the wind and approximately one metric ton of adrenaline mixed with fear.

She could see them.

AMARANTH! AMARANTH! AMARIS - GLITCH - Amaya? - LYLITH - AMARANTH!

And then she was there, standing over Amaranth with a face drenched in tears.

Amaranth! Is she going to - is there a healer?! she cried. FIORA! She must be close by -!

She had been doing so well.

Fiora had noted Amaya consuming some of the gunk and made a mental note to see if it had any Cool Effects later. She always was a gross little creature, but Fi simply considered it a part of her holy given affinity for the Five and all things natural. She'd seen Sreda hovering over Roskva, fighting, protecting and guiding her daughter.

The Bacchus had been doing well for herself, largely protecting the hollow beside Pluto and Persephone.

Until she'd been tackled off-balance, and with that fall, knew she would never rise the same. She thought her own scream would echo in her ears as long as she lived and perhaps after, but even that didn't compare to the explosion of agony down her back -- her legs.
Her legs.
Oh, how she'd enjoyed sinking her teeth into that wraith and shaking the life of it before crawling into the hollow as it grew quiet.
She'd eaten a golden turtlehead leaf before passing out.


~~~~~~~


When she woke, she didn't know where she was.
She only knew the throbbing pains rippling down her spine. Even her tail hurt.
A whine lifted from her lips, and Fiora simply laid there. For how long, she didn't know.

Until the smell of blood reached her. Not her own -- the cascade of crimson trickling down her own haunches was already so heavy in her nose she'd stopped smelling it. No, there was the distinct scent of Elysium here! Other plague-fighters, she assumed.
She couldn't make out words, only the frantic nature of the voices.

Fiora sat up, features twisting and teeth gritting as dread settled heavy in her stomach. It was... hard to move. Her hind legs struggled to obey, and she could feel that it wasn't just the pain signals telling her not to. It was a struggle to even feel them, in some odd way -- one would think that with so much pain, from the hips down would not feel so... detached? Ghostly? She didn't know how to describe it; her legs were there, but it was as if her own brain didn't recognize them.

It took several tries to stand.

However barely, Auntie Valeska's voice screeched out, very clearly. Her name.

Nothing could've spurred Fiora harder.

She finally found her balance and, after a few horrific spasms down her back when she impacted against the ground, began dragging herself that way. Turns out, they weren't even far.
They being a fucking lot. Auntie Amaranth, on the ground, bloodied. Valeska, standing there, terrified. Amaris and Glitch, beside themselves.
Amaya, drooling -- glowing drool! Was that from the gunk? Fiora hadn't a chance to notice the rune seared into her own forehead.

Hobbling, her hind paws curling and dragging beneath every barely-lifted step, steeped in her own blood like the clays she normally covered herself with, Fiora showed up like the crypid she always had been, materializing from the woods. Even if every breath rattled with a pain that threatened to take her to the ground with her golden Aunt, the snowy Bacchus kept on moving.

The witchdoctor was always where she was most needed.

It worried her, how terribly off Amaranth seemed when on the outside, she didn't look so terribly. It made her wonder if her Aunt wasn't broken on the inside, too.

Go on, git, I need room, she rumbled gruffly despite her warbling voice as she approached, in work mode and far from her usual bubbly self -- she hoped they'd forgive her, considering the mess she was and the fact she could hardly walk herself.... but they had one chance to Not Bump Her or she may very well cause the next wound. She didn't know if Glitch knew Russian, but frankly, she didn't think about it at the moment. Valeska alone she spared a real glance at, offering a long, silent blink alongside what she hoped was a reassuring nod. Then she looked back to Amaranth and spoke aloud to anyone who would listen: there were several potential helpers here, and though she noted at least one of them were also injured, Fiora thought her aunt needed checked over first. There are flowers everywhere; someone go pluck me a few poppies and dandelions. Surely, someone here knew what common flowers looked like?

She felt the whole of her body trembling.

The yellow sun-looking ones -- I need the leaves of those -- and the red circular ones.

She squinted off into the distance, fighting a rising wave of nausea from the intensity of the pain, her breaths coming heavy and long.

If anyone sees a willow tree, its bark would be better.

Trusting someone would move to search where it would take her a long, painstaking effort to accomplish, she turned and looked down at the High Augur. A gentle, shaking paw ran along her golden coat, starting the search for damage.