Burning Seas

[Ice]

Ice looked up from his fingers at Khalora as he spoke to him. He only caught some of the words he said, but he understood what he was saying nonetheless. Ice could have replied before he had finally died, but words were caught somewhere deep within him. Nothing seemed decent to say. He couldn't now find Khalora's body, shake him, and say it was all worthwhile, that the lives lost, his life, was worth it in the end when peace was achieved. He couldn't say that, and he would never be able to. You can't argue with a dead man. He couldn't raise Khalora's head from his watery grave and tell him it was alright. It wasn't.

Ice turned away as Khalora fell away from the White Warrior. He should have felt glad about Khalora's death, he should have been relieved, or ecstatic that his sworn enemy, from the moment he was born, had finally been defeated, and Ice, against the odds of age and experience had won over him. But there was a strong sad wind in the air, suffocating the people around him. The Ice Warriors were not cheering, neither were the Fallen Angels. Even the shouts of the Pirate King did not seem to carry in the deafening silence. The Southerners were running now, they were diving off the ship, but quietly, making as little noise as possible. No longer wishing attention to be drawn to them. Their morale was destroyed, with their King gone.

Ice felt Kevin Sage's hand against his back, but instead moved to Alaria, the pain in his fingers mattering not against the pain that filled his heart. The sword that had gone through Alaria's body, had pierced his own heart and soul. He held out his hands and caught her body as she bent over, he lay her down on his lap and gently stroked his hair.

"You can't leave me now, not now, Alaria." He said, looking down at her eyes. His white hair hung around his head with sweat and blood, stained like his soul, and Alaria's own clothing was blood soaked.

Ice became aware of the imprint left within him by the stone. A last power left behind. Perhaps . . . just perhaps if he could manifest it again. He had trapped it mentally before Khalora had struck the Amethyst down. He focused his thoughts, even more than when he had first cluthed the stone. His entire thought was bent on it until he mentally grasped that last ounce of power within him.

And for a moment, just a moment, Ice's eyes shone violet, and the temperature dropped again.

Then the temperature had returned, the sun was appearing again, and Ice's eyes were pale blue. However, from his back, just below the shoulder-blade, long, white wings grew. Children of the last of the amethysts power.

Ice smiled as he strecthed the newest parts of his anatomy. They were fearsome to look upon, and it gave a much needed boost to the Ice Warrior morale. He picked up his scythe again, and Samara took her place beside him. He pointed the scythe at the Pirate King. Ice had finally grown weary of this fight. It ended now.

"Leave." Ice said, looking at him, deadly seriousness dripping from his words. "Leave now, and go unattacked. You need no more people slain today. Go back to Teer, and do whatever you must to save yourselves. This fight is over now."

[nina]

[[So sorry, this post is freakishly long But my muse attacked me, and I was on a roll! hehe]]

As she pushed away from Cailen, Nina watched that fateful moment as Alessio’s body hit the deck in one lifeless mass. But even in his final hour, he managed to strip away the Stone from the hand of Ice. As the Southern King died, a feeling of both sorrow and joy overtook her heart. The man that had hunted her every footstep was now gone, and though Danarta itself was not an open home to her, Nina knew the remainder of Lilan was free. She was now free.

But at such a heavy price, a wave of guilt shook her body…

She was staring toward the center battle, and The Ice Warrior King sprouted wings – it was the last bit of power from the amethyst. Again, that man grew hostile, pointing his scythe toward the Pirate King, who also had his weapon drawn toward one of his own. Nina could take it no more.

“Enough!” She shouted above the waves, above the voices, and above the wind before any more blood should be shed.

Nina spoke to every person standing before her. Her voice shook at first, but grew in strength as she slowly went on.

“They called it the Amethyst of Eternity… of Power… of Life. But in truth, the stone was nothing more than a mere trinket of lies. I call it the Amethyst of War, of Betrayal, and of Death, for that is all it brought the world of Lilan – nothing but sorrow.

Once peaceful races rose up against each other, and even the outcast were forced to choose a side. Did I fight for the North, the South, the Pirates, or the Navy? I tell you that I fought only for Lilan, and I have failed, for we still stand here, at the end of our spirits, strengths, and wills, at odds with one another. If only our ancestors could see us, how ashamed they would be…” Nina’s voice trailed off for a moment. She held back a single tear that threatened to spill down her cheek.

The battle field before her was littered with the bodies of every race: men, women, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, family, and friends strewn the deck of the White Warrior. The cold sea was desecrated with sinking ships, floating corpses, and scattered debris, and tinged with blood.

She spoke again, now seeing the attention that had been directed her way. “If this battle has taught us anything, let it be this. There is no race here greater than the other. We all have our weaknesses and strengths. The Southerners have a mighty army of brute strength, loyalty, and swordsmanship. The Northerners have grace, agility, and fine archers. The Pirates are cunning, swift, and sly. The Navy has an amazing fleet, they have honor and integrity, discipline, and courage.

And despite our differences, we all have one thing in common, and that is our weakness: our pride, greed, and arrogance. We’re not so different after all.

Look around you. This path of hatred, rage, and anger has brought us here. Nothing but a bloody massacre lays before me. Not a single one of us proved greatness over another. We’ve only learned what we’ve feared all along: we are equal. The price we’ve paid to receive such knowledge was death.

The death of our friends and our comrades. May they forgive us in the afterlife…”

Nina sheathed her sword and eyed the Angel to her left. No, they would not fight anymore, at least not this day. Despite Nina’s words and all those who took them in, she knew that few would really hear. After this day, a new tension is sure to rise up within the races: a yearning to know the true outcome of this battle. Which race is truly greater than the other? Distrust and suspicion now dwelt within every heart of each individual here.

But Nina quietly put those fears aside, for they are future worries. Today, the races stood together at a loss. All defeated, all dishonored, and all in mourning for fallen companions.

Nina looked back toward the Isle. Lyneya and Dagwyn were still there, and Nina prayed they would be okay. But she could not go back to them. Their mission was done, and she still had her own mission she had to accomplish.

Or perhaps there is just one last goodbye I need to make…

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[Alaria]

Alaria began to fall to the ground and before anything happened, Ice had her in his arms. In his arms she laid, and him on his knees. Fingers now bandaged and wrapped, there was a chance they could reattatch the fingers. His own hair was now bloody, and as she looked at him, his eyes flashed a brilliant violet. There was still power!

Before her eyes, he grew giant white wings, and then the violet left his eyes as the pale blue returned. Everyone was fleeing. Obviously nobody had won this battle. There were more dead than intended. Of course, this was a war, what do you expect? Just then, she noticed the seriousness of her wound. She patted her thin fingers to her chest and felt the blood and the thin slice all the way through her body.

Ice, I would never leave you. I couldn't leave someone I- She broke off, turning away. She wouldn't make a fool of herself in front of everyone. Ice stroaked her hair and she smiled, her eyes drooping. So tired..... She raised herself up enough to gently kiss his cheek, and then pulled herself closer to him, taking in his body heat. Sighing, she pressed on the wound. It stung with all its might, and the bleeding was finally stopping. Alaria was even paler than before, now that the blood loss was so great.

Help me Ice. Please, she whispered, her eyes watering in pain and sadness. She would live through this escapade, but it would forever mark her. Alaria wrapped her bloody fingers around her clothes, trying to press the material in the hole to stop the bleeding.

Samara had gotten up to return to his side. While he held her, he raised the scythe to point out at their enemies and allies. The battle was over. They could leave without being attacked. Her vision went blurry with fatigue, and she turned to Nina.

Above it all, she had heard Nina yelling at them to stop. She nodded her head silently to everything she said.

She's right, Alaria croaked, and huddled closer still to Ice. Oh what she wold give to have Sampson here, to feel his body warmth near her. That leopard would have taken her from harms way and she could be standing now. But alas, Sampson was not here. Those tears she had faught back for so long were now falling like snowflakes from her pale blue eyes. Her hands gripped Ice's free one, and looked at him, pleading him for help.

[Ice]

Ice looked up at Nina, and listened to every word he said. He kept his scythe held up, despite the fact he suddenly felt oddly weak, like the energy had simply been drained out of him. His wings drooped down to the deck, and as his eyes met Nina they were pale blue lights of a terrible sadness. For a moment, they merely sat staring, until a huge tear shining like crystal snow slid gracefully down his cheek to land somewhere amidst a white deck stained red with the blood of Lilan.

He turned back to Alaria, and looked down at her beautiful, broken body rested in his lap. Her eyes seemed closed. He wasn't sure whether she was conscience or not anymore. He wasn't ever sure if she was alive. He had heard somewhere that grave wounds could make a person delirious, make them forget everything, make them forget who they were or where they came from.

"Alaria?" He whispered, leaning closer to her. One of his hands was at the side of her face, and another holding onto her body, despite the blood covering her clothes. It didn't matter anymore. He was already soaked in the blood of countless others. Blood that ran deep underneath his skin and tainted his very soul. Ice had never felt his heart to be so black.

"Alaria . . . are you still there? Can you hear me?" Ice felt tears growing in the back of his eyes, and burning into his cheeks as he tried in vain to fight to keep them in, where no one could see just how much he loved Alaria. "Do you remember the North? It's winter now, and the snow will be drifting down from the pale grey sky. All of the white roses will be blooming. The songbirds will be flying around Svëna, and the leopards will come down to Elïna as the mountains get colder. Can you remember the feeling of the snow? Can you remember the song of the whitebirds?"

Ice leaned in closer, and placed his cheek against Alaria's, and all of a sudden, no one else on the ship mattered, and no one else existed. The gentle sway of the White Warrior against the waves was hypnotic, and lazy, but Ice didn't notice. There was only he and Alaria, on their own in a dark world devoid of light.

His voice was just a whsiper in her ear. The words were for no one else. "Alaria, stay with me now. I will always help you, I'll always be there. But you can't go away now." Ice needed her, and he had never known just how much. He needed her now, more than ever, and as every tiny bit of her conscience slipped away, the world seemed more and more dark.

[Jarad]

Geddo grabbed a rope and bound Poker's hands. He grabbed him and started to drag him away. "Pirates! Southerners! We must Retreat! Do not attack anymore and we will go unattacked!" HE said to his men and the now leaderless Southerners. Poker would pay dearly for his betrayal of the Southerners.

He got onto a boat and started towards the Pirate fort. "Leave Poker alone. Don't speak with him." Where his orders to his men. He went into the captions courters and put his head in his arms. "Why? Why did you die Khalora? Your men need you! You shouldn't have been killed by my own men. Please. Forgive me for letting this happen Khalora." He said to himself. He was angry at the fact that Khalora was killed.

[Alaria]

Alaria had pictures and words floating around in her mind. She couldn't decipher them in time because more just seemed to pop up. She tried to throw up barriers against them, but couldn't, they flooded through. At the very back of things, she could hear a voice. A soft male voice talking quietly to her. She concentrated on it, and everything else disappeared. She listened intently to what he said.

Opening her eyes, she looked at the man above her. Her brain fuzzed for a moment, and she couldn't remember who he was. Something nagged at her, and then it hit her. This was Ice! The man she loved! But then something else hit her: incredible pain. Crying out, she looked at her stomach and then to him.

Ice, I'm still here, but why am I bleeding? And where are we? Panic filled her voice and she leaned up to him and placed her hands on his cheeks. Alaria's eyes searched his and she couldn't seem to find what she was looking for. She looked around her and took everything in. Bodies everywhere. Lots of them. Some were dead, some were alive, screams of pain in her ears. People and ships were retreating.

Something that he whispered in her ear made another memory trigger. The songs of the white birds, the white roses, Elïna and its inhabitants. Suddenly things flashed before her eyes. Running through the forest with Ice, fighting with her life to retrieve the stone for him, wrapping his hand with her clothes. Everything was there.

Of course I still remember you. Please, lets just go home to the healers. She reached a finger out to touch one of his white wings and it was soft to the touch. A shudder passed through her body from the coldness and the loss of blood. Her fingers clutched the wood underneath them. She wouldn't die. There was too much fight left in her. She would survive for Sampson. For Ice.

[Maccenna]

Maccenna made her way to the commotion that had stirred though all the hearts of those around her. She shoved her way through others until she reached the edge of it all, just in time to hear a speech, much more like a desperate plea that came from a woman she did not know.

She listened to it, confusion stirring in her mind as the woman spoke of bloodshed and of the similarities of their races to one another. She heard her speak of the stone, that of which she knew little about and how its promise of life had only brought death. It was then that Maccenna noticed a man, perhaps a year older than herself, holding the limp body of an ice warrior. If Maccenna had not known that the winged man was the leader of the Ice warriors , she would have supposed him to be a fallen angel, but alas, he wasn't. She supposed this was the result of some of the great powers the stone could bestow upon humans.

At first, Maccenna believed that this speech given by the woman yet unknown to her came about as a result of the tragity of the northern leader and the loss of one of his followers, that lay before her eyes, for she could see a heart breaking love filling him with denial. Maccenna could see an unbearable pain residing within him. She realized that he must have very much cared for the the woman who laid in his arms. To her, it seemed the woman had passed on, her face was wan and leeched of the colors of life, and she felt her heart drop and her stomach knot, but then she heard the woman speak, and realized she was still alive. This nearly wrenched her heart from her. She could imagine what the leader of the Ice Warriors was going through though she had never experienced the pain herself. It was true that there was an unbearable pain for those who had seen the death of the ones they loved, but Maccenna imagined it would be far worse to see their loved ones in pain, not wanting to let go- suffering, while they could do nothing but anticipate and pray that that life, so adored, may be spared.

Maccenna turned her head away from the scene. She felt awful as she imagined how many lives of men and women she had taken from the grasp of their loved ones, and imagined how those, who must suffer the passing of their loved ones lives, may never see their faces again, and may only be fed hope from the last memory that may have silhouetted them against the door post, as they prepared to leave under the banners of their kings to fight.

It was at this time that Maccenna heard Geddo's voice, distant in her thoughts, rise above the sorrow that had filled the Ice Warrior king. She was not prepared for the grief she would have to face next. She felt the air choked out of her and it felt as if a knife and been thrust into her chest, a twisting feeling filling her gut, as Geddo grieved over Alessio Khalorah's death. It seemed as if all other things had disappeared from the earth. She had known him. She had fought with him before. Maccenna had thought Alessio to be near invincible, one of the strongest men and wisest fighters she had ever known. Who could have done this? How could it have happened. Maccenna could not find the sense to think, to act, to speak. She could not even shed a tear as utter shock filled her.

And what was worse, was that she found Poker, being bound in rope and shoved roughly by Geddo into a boat. She did not understand what was happening or why, but it was at this point she lost herself. She had been hit twice with a blunt blade and her heart was shattered and swollen with grief. She ran up to Geddo, her face red with anger and her eyes beginning to water. "What happened?? Why are you binding him!" She swung her head around to Poker, "What have you done?" Her voice wavered, but she relized that niether Geddo, nor Poker would answer her on the White Warrior. She followed them into the boat and took care to choose a seat next to Geddo. "What is going on?"

Maccenna had missed much of the front forward action for she remained a good deal of the time in the back line deffences, launching arrows upon enemies.

||Okay.. soooo... its really late here, so my post is going to have aweful gramer and spelling... ec cetera.. Hope you guys don't mind reading a post that isn't much organized, but hey, it gets the point across... Sorry for interrupting the dramatic scene between Ice and Alaria. Its soo beautiful *tear*
Reminds me of some things...

[Poker]

[ooc: xDD]

Poker sat down on the boat. His hands were bound, and the rope burns across his wrists seemed insignificant. He had fulfilled his duty in saving the pirates. Poker didn't care anymore what Geddo did. He had done what he knew was right. Geddo could do nothing to take that away from him.

But then Poker saw Maccenna, and knew that everything Geddo could not do to him, she could. He knew how Maccenna thought of Khalora. She had been a connection to him, perhaps quite a big part of the alliance itself, with she being the first pirate to ever join the Southerner naval force. Even though he felt he had done a right in the world. He couldn't help but feel his heart rip in two when he saw her. She asked him what was happening, and Poker, with a heart torn between she whom he loved, and what he thought was right, turned to her with a face that had undescribable emotions written plainly across it.

Poker, for a moment, was left completely without words. With one binded hand, he reached up to brush one of her ringlets behind her ear. Her face looked so beautiful to him, and yet so sad. It only broke his heart more that he would tell her this. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to. To look at her was to hurt his heart, and yet he could not draw himself away from her.

"Please don't cry." Poker said. He couldn't quite pick the colour of her eyes sometimes, they changed so much, but he could not miss the water that was within them. Threatening to burst. Poker could not stand to have her cry, it would complete the ripping of his heart. He couldn't say it to her. He just couldn't. "Everything will be alright, Maccenna, I promise."

[Kevin Sage]

Sage turned a deaf ear toward the Drifter who spoke before them. This war was not so glorious, but it instilled fear into the hearts of Southerners, the Navy, and the Pirates.

A new Age has dawned this day... a cold war... and tension now stirs in the hearts of all the races...

Sage looked around as the remaining Pirates left the ship, along with any straggling Southerners or Naval officers. Soon, only the Angels and Ice Warriors remained.

Sage approached Ice as he held Alaria. "Ice, we need to get back to the North. Alaria is going to live if we can get her to the healers as quick as possible. She's strong; she can make it if we leave now."

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[nina]

Nina Foster met the eyes of the Leader of the Ice Warriors. The message was hard to grasp, but Nina knew that he looked at her with understanding, remorse, and possibly respect. Tears formed in his eyes, and he slowly turned away from her and looked down at one of his own. The woman was the same person that Nina fought back on the Isle.

She seemed so strong... Nina thought to herself, and in her heart, she hoped that the woman would be okay.

Looking around her, Nina realized that she was alone in the midst of Northerners. Any remaining races had abandoned the White Warrior. Nina turned from the emotional scene between fellow Northerners and looked toward the west. The sun was setting, and not just to end the day, but to end this day's war.

There was no place left for her upon this ship. It was time for Nina to leave, and she had something she had to do...

[[*exit Nina*]]

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[Jarad]

Geddo sighed, "Khalora is dead." He simply said to Maccenna. He knew that he could not choose Pokers fate, but it was up to the pirates to choose what would happen to Poker, even though he was the pirate king, he knew that there where others who where on Poker's side, and so, some pirates might react negativly to the banishment of Poker.

He was caught between a rock and a hard place. If he didn't, he wasn't sure what would happen, but he knew that the southerners would see the pirates as their enemy. Poker had almost sealed their fate and Geddo was sure that he has caused a war between the southerners and the pirates.

He just had the boat keep going towards the Pirates fort. He hoped that the southerners wouldn't attack them until they delt with Poker. He also hoped that their new King would be understanding. He doubted this and knew it was a false hope.

[Ice]

"You're right." Ice said, little above a whisper. He looked up, and it seemed to those around him that something cleared from within his eyes, and the Ice they had all known for seventeen years was back. It was almost cruel that a seventeen year old had seen so much, knew so much, and had the fate of so many on his shoulders. But it was Ice's life, and he knew no different. "Of course."

Ice nodded solemnly at Kevin Sage, he was much more than just one of the archers in the background, Ice had learnt that. He then turned to another one that deserved his attention.

"Cailen," Ice said, looking at her with a melancholy admiration, "let's go home."

Ice looked up at the helmsman of the White Warrior. Often Ice himself would helm the great ship-of-the-line, however, now was not one of those times. "Take us around the Isla de Meuna, and lead us back to the shores of the Ice Forest, then dock the ship in Toorïa. Go east around the Isla." Ice knew that at the moment the races were sitting on uneasy neutrality, but he wasn't going to risk leading his fleet past the Fort.

Ice picked Alaria up, careful to touch her wound as little as possible, so as to dim her pain. He walked silently into the captains quarters and laid her down on his bed. Her blood would stain the sheets, but Ice didn't really care any more. He was already covered in the blood of countless people he would never know. Ice tore part of the sheets off the bed and tied it around Alaria. It wouldn't stop the bleeding altogether, but everyone knew that pressure helps wounds. After that, Ice just sat there next to his own bed, looking down at Alaria. A constant vigil over his fallen lover.

[Alaria]

Alaria was lifted into the air by Ice's arms and carried down into the ship. But before she turned her head, she saw the look in Nina's eyes. Hope. She smiled and tucked her head against his chest. As he lay her on the bed, she automatically felt sleepy. But before she could try to turn on her side, Ice was bandaging her abdomen. Slightly embarassed that he was the one doing the bandaging, she smiled wryly.

He sat down to look at her, and she put her hand on top of his. Yawning, her eyelids felt like heavy blankets, threatening to cover her. Keeping them open, she reflected on what happened. She found the stone, gave it to Ice, who absorbed its power. Then Alessio smashed it, she got ran through by a sword, and Ice got his fingers cut off. She bandaged them, then collapsed and Ice had caught her, then brought her here. So much had happened.

Finally her eyes drfted to a close and someone's words rang out in her head. Kevin's. "She's strong; she can make it if we leave now." Her smile faded as she went to sleep. Her stomach was feeling a little bit better, and she was incredibly tired. Fatigue washed over her.

I love you Ice.

[Maccenna]

|| Sorry to interrupt such a touching moment. <3.....||

The waves lapped around the bow of the small rowing boat as they drifted away from the White Warrior, a swollen and beat group of bedraggled pirates, rocking to and fro on the timbered planks of wood that stretched across the shallow belly of the quarter boat and served as seats. There was an eerie silence of solemness in the air that preceded the words that Poker had spoken and then Geddo right after.

When he spoke to her, Maccenna simply glared at Poker. She was a clever girl, and two and two had come together. She realized that it was Poker who had finally killed Khalora, but she wasn't aware of the fact that the King was already shot and weakened by the time he got there. It was the only reason she could think of that could get him arrested by an already unlawful bunch. There were very few rules to break, so it wasn't hard for her to figure everything out.

Maccenna had hoped that the two men would answer her question so that she wouldn't have to guess or assume anything, but she didn't get strait answers from Poker, and nor did she get any from Geddo. All Geddo had said reiterated what she had discovered a few moments earlier; that Khalora was dead. He never said how, nor why Poker was arrested, but every moment she thought about it, it all seemed to make more since.

And Poker had told her not to worry? She was lit up and livid inside, but she didn't say anything out loud. How could she not worry? Though she had never told him, she loved him and he told her not to worry? It was like asking a man to grow wings and fly. She couldn't do that. She needed him with her, or else life would not be worth living anymore. There was no one left for her but Poker. He was her family- something she never really had. Sometimes he was more like an annoying brother or friend- someone she could get lost in argument with, but he was so much more than that to her, something that she could neither begin to say, nor write, for it went too far for words, even, perhaps, expression.

Suddenly, Maccenna was lost in a state of confusion. For a moment she broke away from her thoughts and turned her head away from Poker, only to get absorbed once more. What would she do if he was gone, he whom she loved? But how could she ever forgive him for murdering a friend, when they were under an oath of alliance? No, she could forgive him. She loved him too much not to, but how could she forget what he had done?She could never do that. Could she have done the same thing as Poker, murder a nutural friend, someone she knew, perhaps like Geddo, but was he even accepting of Khalora in the first place?Why did he kill the Southern King? Would she have done it if she were Poker, who cared not much for Khalora anyway? But where was the reasoning? It would have only caused confusion and anger- hate and war between the Southerners and the Pirates. What good would that murder bring about?

And then another thought of despair enterd Maccenna's mind. Would Poker be realeased? What would they do to him? Some Pirates were vidictive. Would they lock him up, sentence him to death, make him work, like a slave until he died? Would they banish him so that she could never see him again? It pained her too much to think about what could and what most likely would happen to him, so her thoughts changed into a faint hope. She would find a way to realease him if they held a trail, and if not, she would sneak into the deep dark cells herself to find him. She could not bear to be permanently separated from her, she could not bare it if he was to suffer, for his suffering would cause her to suffer twice as much.

Maccenna did not look at Poker again. She was afraid to- the future hung like an ominuos cloud before them, and she was afraid she might cry if she looked at him, so instead, she looked back, back towards the white warrior.

Maccenna's eyes caught the sight of Khalora's broken and beaten ship, The Silver Flame close to the White Warrior, though far from them, and on top of her troubles, she put a note in her mind to get another ship to tow it back so that she could burn it, along with all it's memories.

[Cailen]

Cailen stood in silence, watching the world around her. The snow was falling, and the smell of its clensing was overpowering the stench of blood and death. She nodded vaguly at Ice as he retreated with Alaria into the Captain's Quarters. She gave a soft sigh as the weight of everything that had happened finally penetrated her battle core. She looked around her and saw that all the Pirates and Southerners had finally left the ship, and the Angels and Ice Warriors were preparing to leave for home. There was no saying what kind of chaos had been created with this battle, but it was sure that things would be different. Only time would tell if it woul be a better world.

She pulled out a cloth from her belt and wiped the blood off her sword and sheathed it. She did the same to her bahg nakhs. She pulled Ice's bow off her back and cleaned the slight sprey of blood off its ivory white shaft and slung it back. She would not bother him now. when he returned she would give it back to him.