The afternoon still brought no sign of Dakota, and Wyheree was beginning to wonder if she had indeed frightened him away after all. As the shadows lengthened into evening, Wyheree retreated to the inn, emotions swirling and confused. A talk with Skyler (who she was happy to see was in one piece) lifted her spirits a little, conversation with Kairee only served to muddle her feelings further. So Wyheree sat at the bar, drinking the Elven wine she loved, her eyes glancing up the stairs now and again.
It was very late when Dakota entered the Inn, or fell into the Inn as the case may be. He looked hideous - barely able to keep his feet, the strong smell of liquor soaked into him. As he passed by her and Brian, Dakota did not greet either - it was like he could not see anything before him. Dakota wrenched open the back door and stumbled into the alley. A moment's hesitation, and Wyheree slipped out behind him, determined to help him as he had helped her the previous evening.
She found him easily enough, vomiting against the wall, slumping down in an apparent stupor. Kneeling down by his side, Wyheree called out Dakota's name, her cool hand stroking his forehead. At her gentle touch, all hell broke loose.
Dakota snarled at her like a wild animal, locking a hand around her neck, his eyes unfocused, not seeing the one gasping in his grip was someone who cared for him. She pushed out hard with the coldness around her, and it was enough to make him let go. She was angry - no one had ever laid a hand on her, and her eyes glowed silver as he again made a lunge for her, attacking without care. She easily sidestepped Dakota and lashed across and down, drawing biting shards of ice with the movement, biting them into his face and side. He turned more swiftly this time and swung a fist into her jaw, catching her unawares and knocking her to the ground. Dakota then crouched over top of her, both hands on her throat now, fingers tightening. Her hands were free, so she drew them up and raked her nails - now morphed into icy claws - down his face and neck, desperate to get him off of her, desperate to breathe. He howled in pain and rage, blood flowing from her cuts. Wyheree scrambled to her feet just as Dakota charged her again. Setting herself, she drew her hands together and fired a massive bolt of ice straight into the charging Dakota, and he went flying back, striking the back wall of the alley with a sickening thud, and he crumpled to the ground.
Shocked both at Dakota's attack and her reaction to it, Wyheree slid to the ground herself, barely hearing Brian calling. If these were his demons, he was going to need all the help he could get to battle them.
It was very late when Dakota entered the Inn, or fell into the Inn as the case may be. He looked hideous - barely able to keep his feet, the strong smell of liquor soaked into him. As he passed by her and Brian, Dakota did not greet either - it was like he could not see anything before him. Dakota wrenched open the back door and stumbled into the alley. A moment's hesitation, and Wyheree slipped out behind him, determined to help him as he had helped her the previous evening.
She found him easily enough, vomiting against the wall, slumping down in an apparent stupor. Kneeling down by his side, Wyheree called out Dakota's name, her cool hand stroking his forehead. At her gentle touch, all hell broke loose.
Dakota snarled at her like a wild animal, locking a hand around her neck, his eyes unfocused, not seeing the one gasping in his grip was someone who cared for him. She pushed out hard with the coldness around her, and it was enough to make him let go. She was angry - no one had ever laid a hand on her, and her eyes glowed silver as he again made a lunge for her, attacking without care. She easily sidestepped Dakota and lashed across and down, drawing biting shards of ice with the movement, biting them into his face and side. He turned more swiftly this time and swung a fist into her jaw, catching her unawares and knocking her to the ground. Dakota then crouched over top of her, both hands on her throat now, fingers tightening. Her hands were free, so she drew them up and raked her nails - now morphed into icy claws - down his face and neck, desperate to get him off of her, desperate to breathe. He howled in pain and rage, blood flowing from her cuts. Wyheree scrambled to her feet just as Dakota charged her again. Setting herself, she drew her hands together and fired a massive bolt of ice straight into the charging Dakota, and he went flying back, striking the back wall of the alley with a sickening thud, and he crumpled to the ground.
Shocked both at Dakota's attack and her reaction to it, Wyheree slid to the ground herself, barely hearing Brian calling. If these were his demons, he was going to need all the help he could get to battle them.