Hecate’s words as she entered the Proving Grounds made her laugh. She laughed and laughed. “Hecate, I see you still need to learn something about war. War takes something from everyone. But I’m sure you’re not thinking about that. While I am sorry for the losses of your family, remember I lost family too. I think everyone did.” She felt the storm in her bones. She had to be carrying Alistair’s children. If not, what was left of his legacy? His murderer and son, a queen who had loved him? “All I can offer you is that while I did kill your mother, and then your brother, your father did not die by my claw. And as your mother was dying, she said to tell you she’s sorry.” While the girl was most likely distracted with this information, she lunged. Irina’s claws hurtled for Hecate’s chest; a miss would leave her rolling to her feet, and a half hit would leave some thick scars across Hecate’s pelt. She very well might bleed out if a half hit was to be landed. If Irina hit full on, the impact would knock Hecate to her side, and nearly gut her-what had been done to Irina’s son Rambaldi. He had just barely survived. Mari was doing her best to take care of him. She distracted herself from these dismal thoughts by going for Hecate again, trying to cuff her across the head. A miss would have her stumbling back, a half hit would slice Hecate’s ear and neck, and a full hit would take her ear, Irina knew. She’d practiced this many times in the land where she was born.
"The truth takes time." Pyro, Kruam, & Kára - Nadia
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