For such a small frame, Skell was surprisingly heavy, and although Dakota was more than capable of hefting him around, it was still surprising to feel just how much weight was packed into such a small space. Dakota chalked part of it up to the weird armor he was wearing at first, but after seeing him move about it in, she doubted it was all that cumbersome. She readjusted her grip on him, carrying him with both her arms, his legs dangling off to one side, his head curled up near her chest plate.
Dakota continued her steady pace, the sound of her claws against the stone floor echoing through the darkened cavern. She kept her eyes trained straight ahead, locked on to the den door, still sealed behind a barrier of energy. She didn't want to look at any of the brutalized corpses strewn about as she passed them, though she could definitely smell them. As it is, she was just barely mustering enough good will to spare Skell, she didn't need any more reminders of why she should really be ripping him to ribbons right now.
Even though she knew it was the best way, the safest way, Dakota didn't work like that, she couldn't just bring herself to betray him after he had saved her life. Reluctant as she was to admit it, he had most likely saved her entire pack. Ten vanguards? Dakota was a good fighter, and she was confident in her abilities but fighting ten minotaur vanguards all at once was practically suicide. Yet here she was, carrying someone who had done just that, or very close to it anyways. Her prideful side was unwilling to let go of the fact that she had still downed two bulls herself.
She let her gaze slowly drift down to the unconscious form in her arms, her soft eyes scanning his face as she neared the entrance. She couldn't help but laugh and sigh grimly at the same time looking down at Skell. She didn't know what to do with him. She wasn't going to kill him preemptively, she couldn't just leave him out here, with or without his stuff, and she couldn't keep him around, even disarmed. Simple fact of the matter was that he was just too dangerous, too unpredictable from what she'd seen so far.
Dakota could scarcely believe that this twig less than half her size, was more dangerous than a minotaur, ten times over even. Everything she had witnessed thus far, that detached, cold look in his eyes, the acrid smell of burnt flesh still flooding into her nostrils even now, was telling her to drop him and take a chunk out of his neck. It would guarantee he wouldn't cause her any trouble, and she wouldn't have to worry about keeping an eye on him.
At the same time, the very fact that he was as dangerous as ten minotaurs was a contributing factor to her wanting to keep him around, to try her best to befriend him. All she ever wanted to do was to take care of her pack and keep them safe, and as reluctant as she was to admit it, she just couldn't do it alone anymore. The raids had been going on for weeks, usually consisting of just two to three warriors. She could deal with that, but obviously they were getting fed up with her pack's resiliency, week after week, so they must have decided to try and put a stop to it all with one final push. She didn't want to think about what might have been if she hadn't met Skell. It was clear that she needed help, and although Buster and Baxter were large fellas, they were just big softies, of no use in a fight.
But Skell ... he had already proven his worth as a fighter, and although he legitimately frightened her like no one she had ever met before, she needed his help. That moment when she had been slammed into the floor, staring up at the huge blade about to come down on her, her body refusing to move fast enough, she thought she had failed. When that strange, terrible noise had reached her ears, she didn't know what to think, but as she had looked over to Skell, watched him walking towards her as the minotaur beside her fell, she knew he had her back. Skell stood by her and even though she couldn't be sure of whether he had been fighting for his own survival, or for both of theirs, the simple fact of the matter was that he was more than capable of killing her if he really wanted to. He chose not to.
That was all she really needed to know, and while she still couldn't fully trust Skell, he deserved a chance based on his actions.
She groaned, mentally berating herself for being so much like her father, for putting so much faith in strangers. She sometimes loathed the fact that she had inherited her dad's emotional softness and optimism. She was constantly at odds with what her logical mind told her was the right decision.
If she wasn't holding Skell, she would be facepalming at how unbelievably stupid, naieve even, she thought was acting right now, going against her better judgement like she was. It was pointless trying to talk herself out of it at that point though, she had already made up her mind about the whole thing, the conflicting emotions within her doing nothing to deter her anymore. Skell would have his chance.
She came to a stop a few paces from the shield of energy protecting the den door, looking up from Skell and steeling herself, trying to ignore the scent of burned flesh that still permeated the cavern. Winston would be relived to see that she had made it, but he was still no doubt gonna give her hell for having Skell with her. In hindsight Winston was probably right to not trust Skell after having witnessed the kind of destruction he was capable of, but at the same time, she wouldn't be standing there were it not for his help.
She just hoped she could rush inside and close the door before Winston had a chance to see or smell the grizzly scene behind her. It wouldn't do much to reassure him that bringing the person that caused it all into the den was a good idea.
Dakota sighed, resigning herself to the inevitable verbal onslaught she'd be facing in just a few moments. She concentrated on the lingering vestiges of courage within her, brushing aside all her other emotions as she closed her eyes and focused on this one singular feeling. Her gemstone began to glow with a soft red light, as the courage within her burned away every other sensation coursing through her for a single moment, her entire body alight with sensory overload as the light radiating from within her ruby intensified before expelling itself in a burst of energy.
The shockwave of light and sound that rippled outwards from her collar collided with the force barrier surrounding the den door, the red energy from the pulse of light fusing with the blue energy of the shield, before it flickered into nothingness as the shield disintegrated with a sharp crackle.
The rough, glowing gemstone embedded into the center of the door sputtered and faded into darkness, as Dakota's ruby also dimmed, the overwhelming sensation of courage rushing through her subsiding as she gasped from the sudden withdrawl of emotions. She had never truly gotten used to that part of being a diamond dog, of being a gem bearer.
She had spent so long training to brace herself from the sudden influx of emotions that came with her ruby, that she had more or less ignored training to steel herself against suddenly having them yanked away all at once. It made her feel strangely empty every time it happened, having all that unwavering courage and bravery ripped away in a moment, and even though the void within her was always filled with other emotions quickly, it still rattled her nerves every time.
It scared her how weak she felt without her gem's power.
Coming down from the unnerving rush, Dakota blinked hard a few times, shaking her head slightly to straighten her thoughts as the den door began to slowly slide to the left, stone grinding against stone as the dim torchlight from behind the door peaked around the edges of the circular slab of metal and rock.
Dakota took a step forward as the door creaked open just wide enough for her to fit through, but quickly halted her advance at what she saw as the stone slab clicked into position, having rolled open all the way.
Standing a few feet beyond the entrance was Winston, hunched over menacingly. He looked ready for a fight, his gemstone glowing his signature amber, his claws encased in sheaths of crackling energy of the same color. His expression was a mix of fear and determination, his face contorted into a snarl at first, his fur bristling with anger, droplets of desperate wetness clearly visible in his eyes, but as him and Dakota locked eyes, his demeanor softened instantly, shock clashing with relief as they both danced across his features, his snarl melting into a slack jawed stare. His gem flickered and dimmed as the arcing energy surrounding his claws disintegrated into wisps of residual magic before sputtering out of existence. His eyes brightened.
" Y-you ... you're alive! I-I ..." Winston stuttered in disbelief at first, breaking into an uncontrollable grin and practically shouting, before fumbling into a breathless sense of awed happiness, unable to find the words to finish his sentence. Dakota remained silent, managing to return the sentiment with a weak smile of her own. She was still preparing herself for the confrontation; she knew it was coming.
Indeed, it came not seconds later as Winston dropped everything rushed forward to meet her, ecstatic waves of joy washing over him for a moment, before being torn away, as he ground to a halt, his expression faltering upon noticing Skell held snugly in her arms. His implacable grin quickly receded into a vague frown as he stared at the strange form Dakota held, only looking up from it a few moments later.
"Is ... is it , y'know ... dead?" he said, pausing every few seconds, hesitant to ask. Dakota took a brief moment, sighing and looking away from him, breaking eye contact.
"No, he's still alive," Dakota responded, her words bittersweet. Winston's gaze drifted back down to Skell, scanning him as his chest rose and fell weakly, before turning away and staring at the ground.
Dakota remained where she was, fighting back her anxiety as she steeled herself, taking a deep breath, and stepping forward, hopeful that Winston would just let the whole thing slide.
"No," Winston said shaking his head, his eyes hidden from view. The sinking feeling within Dakota was reaffirmed by his defiant, yet saddened tone. She had known this wouldn't be easy, but she had to try and push through it.
"Yes," she retorted, unsure of what else to say as she took another hesitant step towards Winston.
"Dakota, please ... I- we almost lost you, because of that thing," Winston stuttered, his words cutting into Dakota as she slowed to a halt just a few inches away from him. She tried to look Winston in the eye, but he refused to look up from the floor, and so she found her own gaze slowly drifting to the side as she mulled over what to say.
"He saved my life," Dakota said, letting her words resonate for a few moments, as Winston shifted uncomfortably.
"If you hadn't gone back for it, you wouldn't have needed saving, you would've made it inside with everyone else," Winston suddenly said, his voice faltering near the end.
"That was my decision."
"And it was a stupid one."
"No, it was the right thing to do, and you know that" Dakota fired back, trying to convince him of her point of view. She tried one more time to get him to look up at her, but sighed as he continued to stare at the floor. He was beginning to shake slightly. The oppressive silence that permeated the room was strangling them both.
"Look, Dakota, whatever happened out there, I know it wasn't your doing. You even said it yourself, 'He saved my life.' We've known each other for a long time, and I've never met anyone better at fighting than you b-but ..." he stammered out, choking up near the end as his voice cut through the air, swallowing hard and continuing " I know what burnt flesh smells like, and I've known you, trained with you long enough to know that you haven't the slightest idea when it comes to fire magic. Whatever it did to those minotaurs, it couldn't have been pretty; it smells truly repulsive. I don't want that happening to us."
Dakota could feel a shiver run down her spine. She had hoped he wouldn't have noticed the terrible stench, but it was a long shot at best. She calmed herself, trying to put together a response, taking a step back as she attempted to fill the entrance a bit more, to try and at least keep him from actually seeing the carnage.
"We only just met it. We have no way of trusting it, and I don't understand why you insist on putting blind faith in it."
"Winston I was out there, fighting right beside him. He could've turned on me and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. But he didn't. The fact that I'm even alive right now is proof enough that we can trust him," Dakota said, trying to put every ounce of passion and confidence into her words.
She finished, silencing sweeping over them, Winston still refusing to look at her. She was getting nowhere, snorting in frustration at Winston's stubbornness, but concerned about him all the same, noticing that his shaking had gotten worse. His paws were clenched into fists. Taking a deep breath, and readying herself, Dakota decided to redouble her efforts.
"I'm not asking you to like him. I'm not asking you to be grateful for what he did for us today. I'm not even asking you to trust him. All I'm asking, is that you trust me."
Silence.
He refused to budge. Dakota was about to sigh in frustration and defeat, only stopping herself from doing so once she caught a glimpse of something seemingly insignificant; a single tear sliding off of Winston's hidden face, plummeting to the ground and dispersing into even smaller droplets with an almost inaudible sound. Dakota found herself staring at Winston, watching his trembling form as another droplet of wetness fell from his darkened face. Winston did many things, but cry? Something was definitely wrong with him. She blinked a few times in disbelief, swallowing hard as she mustered up the courage to speak, finding her voice.
" Winston, I-I... " she said worriedly, trailing off, suddenly unable to think of what to say. Without any better idea, she hesitated and took a step forward, now only a few inches away from him. His refusal to look at her, combined with his reluctance to speak was starting to get to her, the ice in her veins growing colder by the second. She could feel herself getting goosebumps as she looked at Winston's visage, shrouded from view. It was so very strange to see him like this, and more than a little disconcerting; she was honestly lost as to why he was acting like this.
"Look at me," she demanded, trying to wrest control of the situation. "Winston, look at me."
Her voice died away within a few moments, and in that time, Winston finally moved. He hesitated at first, but little by little, he began to look up at her, stopping just short of actually looking her in the eye, flicking his own eyes away from hers. They both stood there, neither daring to speak, until finally, Winston's shaky voice split the silence.
"T-This isn't the first time you've done this," his voice was hoarse and unsteady, but it was backed by a wall of raw emotion that took Dakota aback as he continued, "I've thought you dead many times, and every time you came back, every time you turned out to still be alive, I told myself, I'd never let you go again, told myself I'd try harder to hang onto you ..." Winston said, still unwilling to lock eyes with her.
"... and yet here we are, once again," Winston said, taking a step back and outstretching his arms in exasperation and disbelief. He still refused to look her in the eyes.
"I never meant to-" Dakota started, but was quickly cut off.
"No, no I know, but," Winston interrupted her, sighing sadly, searching for the right words, before continuing " Look, Dakota, I've always trusted you, always done things your way, but your way always ends the same, and I can't put up with this kind of emotional rollercoaster we go through every time you go and nearly get yourself killed. I know you only do what you think is right, only do something because you think it's the only way, but I'm drawing the line here. You're wrong this time. I'm not letting that thing in, I'm not letting it jeopardize me, you, and everyone else just because you want to do things your way again."
His words slammed into Dakota harshly, the emotional intensity behind them truly telling of the kind of mental state Winston was in. Dakota and Winston had traveled together for years, wandering the world, and in that time, she had only ever seen him brought to tears once before. It was just as worrying then as it was now.
If she wasn't completely stunned before, she froze solid as Winston finally dared to look her straight in the face, his icy blue eyes clashing with her emerald ones. The kind of deep pain in his eyes, pain she had caused, blew her away. The stress mixed with frustration , anger and defiance in his eyes, all melded into a withering gaze that truly pierced Dakota. She had to look away from him, unable to continue looking into his pained soul.
"Winston I'm, I'm so sorry. I never realized, I just, I always thought ..." Dakota was starting to tear up herself. She could barely hold back her own emotions, memories of her travels with Winston pushing themselves to the forefront of her train of thought. Every time they had been separated, every time she had stayed behind to buy him time to escape, every time they finally met back up ... every time, that same, forced smile on his face, like he was hiding something. She felt her memories shift, tinting a shade deeper, a bit darker. Her past seemed to grow teeth only to sink them into her hide.
She had never much cared for her own safety, putting others before herself, never even stopping to consider how others might feel if she never came back, always focusing on doing what had to be done instead. It was a lot to think about, and the more she thought about it, the worse she felt about her past actions. She suddenly lost her will to speak.
"Dakota, just ... just put that thing down, and we'll be done with this" Winston said, his trembling voice chilling Dakota to the bone as he spoke. She registered the words, but she didn't want to hear them, each one sending an icy tremor down her spine as she flicked her eyes to Skell's nearly motionless form in her arms. She watched his chest rise and fall weakly, his labored breathing muffled by his mask, the acrid stench still assaulting her nostrils reminding her of what he had done.
Winston was right to be wary of him. Dakota was suddenly feeling terrible about herself, feeling like she owed it to Winston to just give up and kill Skell, just to spare him any more trauma. She battled with herself, realizing that no matter what choice she made, it was the wrong one. If she killed Skell, she would be betraying someone who had not only saved her life, but could actually stand up to the minotaurs in combat. She would be throwing away her only chance of ever being able to feel safe in her own den.
On the other paw, if she somehow managed to convince Winston to accept and spare Skell, she'd have to live with the fact that she was perpetuating Winston's suffering, along with proving him right that she did think she always had the answers, always had to do things her way. She sighed exasperatedly, mustering a weak smile as she looked back up into Winston's eyes.
"Winston, I'm so sorry, for everything I've put you through. I-I can't even begin to imagine how much of a jerk you must think I am right now but ... we have to give Skell a chance. It's not because I trust him Winston, it's not because I even want to keep him around, it's because we need him," She was going to regret her choice either way, so she figured that at least this way, nobody had to die, or so she hoped. Winston was about to retort, but she intervened, cutting him off before he could even begin.
"You saw how many of them there were, you can see the kind of trouble we're in now. We're not running from far flung patrols anymore, they're actively trying to kill us. Can't you see how much they want us dead? They sent real, proper soldiers after us! These aren't volunteer militia like before. I ... I can't handle this on my own anymore, I can't protect us from that many," Dakota finished, pushing aside all of her thoughts and completely throwing herself into her argument, her words resonating with impassioned emotion. She was still staring into Winston's eyes, the two of them fighting for dominance as Winston took a step back, looking away. He had managed to get his emotions somewhat under control, but his voice still trembled as he spoke.
"Then get Buster and Baxter to help you. I'll help you. We're in this together Dakota, that was the whole point of settling down here, so we'd have others to back us up if we needed it. We stand together. We fight together."
"But we don't have to! That's what you're not getting. I don't want to force y'all into fighting. That's the whole reason I volunteered to be the scavenger of the pack so y'all could sit tight, nice and safe in the den. I tried, hard as I could to keep everyone away from danger," Dakota fired back, frustrated with Winston's stubbornness. He was making a noble gesture, but a naieve one all the same. He knew just as well as she did that Buster and Baxter wouldn't last long in a fight against minotaurs, it just wasn't in their nature, and it wasn't in his either.
He wasn't made for fighting.
"All you'd be accomplishing by throwing the rest of the pack into battle would be getting us all slaughtered, and I'm sorry Winston, but no matter how badly I've hurt you, I'm not gonna let you think for even one second that this idea of yours will work. We're not soldiers! We ran away from our pack precisely because they tried to force us into that lifestyle, and now, you want to try and convince me that they were right all along?" Dakota said, tears beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. She hated arguing with Winston, especially after all the pain she'd put him through. It wasn't fair to him, and it hurt her that she had to stand by her choice. She had to stand by Skell.
A long, drawn out sigh permeated the den entrance as Winston's demeanor shifted noticeably, his shoulders relaxing, his posture easing up. He slumped up against the cave wall to his right, still looking down at the ground as he spoke.
"Fine, just ... just keep that thing away from the others. If you're bringing it in, you're hosting it. Keep it in your room, and away from me," Winston conceded as he motioned with one paw to allow her in.
Dakota's soft gaze lingered on Winston, trying to get him to look at her, but after a silent moment, she simply sighed.
"Thank you ..." she almost whispered, her quavering, grateful voice filled with guilt. She took an uneasy step forward, eyeing Winston intently as she did so. He didn't move, his deflated form remaining slumped up against the wall. He refused to look at her.
Swallowing her emotions, Dakota continued on past him, the sound of her steps the only noise accompanying her as she walked. Winston vanished as she passed him. She couldn't bear to glance over her shoulder to look at him, so she just kept her head to the ground, ashamed of herself.
I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry ...
She repeated it to herself, over and over in her mind, trying to wrench truth out of them. She tried to convince herself that she meant what she said and thought, but found herself questioning her authenticity. How could she truly be sorry if even after all that, everything Winston had said, she still kept on doing things her way?
Dakota felt a terrible, creeping sensation sweep over her as she plodded down the entrance hall. Her head was swimming and her emotions battled for control of her against her logical mind, which kept trying to reassure her that this was the best choice she could have made. She began to feel very dizzy, her self loathing and doubt starting to close in on her, paralyzing her. Each step was harder, more deliberate and forced than the last.
The short trot down the hall to the central room of the den felt like a walk of shame. She did not greet Buster or Baxter sitting beside the crackling fire burning in the hearth, nor did she respond to them as they leapt up to embrace her. She brushed past them, her gemstone radiating a crimson glow, the circular door to her room grinding open and then slamming shut behind her as she sealed herself inside.
She set Skell down on her makeshift bed of straw, hides, and furs with a ginger precision, letting his heft slip away from her arms only to be replaced by an intangible weight saddling her shoulders. His set of blades clattered to the ground, Dakota releasing them with a weary sigh before combing over the lithe monster before her, unbuckling anything that wasnt bolted onto his armor and piling it into an organized mess on the floor.
Dakota flopped down onto the floor beside her bed, letting her head rest against the wall, gazing up at the ceiling. Her eyes unfocused, staring at the rough stone as she braced herself.
And she waited.