queenavarosan:
Bright blue eyes stare at the waking form from across the flames. They’re the eyes of an archer, patient and and focused. Strikingly perceptive. Under those eyes are dark circles and a matching somber expression. Their owner pokes at embers with a stick, her gaze falling to the pit. Orange and red and yellow and warmth reflects off of her irises. It’s evident that she’s been awake for awhile now.
“Mm,” she acknowledges that her name has been said, but not much more than that. She has a fire to tend to, a fire that she’s been tending to all night. Alongside the wounds on her childhood friend’s stomach. It’s a tiring responsibility, but one that must be done. She is rather used to such things now, in all aspects of her life. This is hardly any different.
Attempting to move was a mistake. The black spots dancing across her vision are nothing compared to the feel of the world turning around her. “Why-” It’s like sandpaper rubbing against her throat as she tries to swallow down the taste of copper. Had she the energy she would be furious. With herself, with this situation.
Instead she tries not to vomit and focuses on the sound of breathing. She tries again, voice husky and tinged with frustration. “Why didn’t you leave me?” Svaag. It would have solved so many problems for Ashe. Saved her the aggravation of having to deal with the Winter’s Claw and its growing power and presence. Instead Ashe saves her.
As the crippled warmonger lying against the boar struggles to move, the frost archer continues to stare into the flames. Such radiant heat. Lucky that she was able to find flints and a pack of starter on Sejuani’s person – Bristle’s saddlebag to be precise. Ashe herself doesn’t carry much on her trips. She travels lightweight, always on foot. She’s had a fair bit of experience in doing that throughout her life now. She’s fast. A true ranger. The bow was always meant for her, it would seem.
“Would you have left me?” Ashe fully expects that Sejuani will answer 'yes’, that she would have. Still, she doesn’t look up. She knows Sejuani will reason that of course she would, that she would jump at the chance to leave an enemy behind to die, because they are weak and deserve to die if they cannot survive on their own. But Ashe truly believes that Sejuani would have done the same had their roles been reversed. Sejuani is a warrior at heart. Ashe knows this. If Ashe is to die, it will be to Sejuani’s own hand, in combat, to prove herself as the worthy victor and rightful ruler of the Freljord. Or at least, Ashe hopes. A small part of her harbors doubt. Sejuani has often claimed she will do whatever it takes to survive, to win because that is true strength. Ashe has seen her willingness to commit terrible deeds firsthand. It is cowardice in Ashe’s opinion, but. She chooses to see the best in her childhood friend, her battlesister.
