Shut up.
Once more she crashed down, shot by one of his masterfully-placed bullets.
No one cares.
She whined, low and quiet, as though he was crushing her chest. The wind blew around them, agitated, picking up speed.
Literally no one.
That's not true, she wanted to protest, but in that moment she could think of nobody to use to prove his wrongness, nobody who she could name with absolute certainty. Even Ash and Athena might have been pretending, even a little bit. He took a step closer and something new was immediately born in her throat, tight and hot and dreadful, something which felt like fear. Datura had never scared her before, not truly; her squeals of playful terror when he pounced on her unexpectedly were not fear, and even when he was upset and angry, like now, she usually placated or distracted him, and never was she afraid of him. Here, on this height, with death in front and her brother moving up from behind, somehow she was all too aware of what a fine line that had the potential to be. She looked at his face and what she saw made her blood cold.
"Datura," she whispered, pleading, but he might not have even heard because the wind was grabbing at their every breath and it was getting stronger, she could feel it push against her, testing her balance. He sulked and tantrumed and all Bella could think was that safety lay beyond him, behind him, and it was so stupid to be worried, so stupid, but -
Somehow his whispers cut through the air in ways hers could not, but such was normally the case, he was so much more powerful than she - and with his words ringing in her ears, his muzzle was under her arm and then the wind blew hard and she stumbled.
No one cares.
Instincts, honed by an entire life spent prancing up and down precarious paths and laughing in the wind, saved her. instincts, and the storm. The paw he displaced had trod air, and everything had been off, been wrong, and for a long second Bella had stared down at the rocks which were to be her final companions. Automatically she had shunted her weight to compensate, a high squeal escaping her, and fate was determined by which way the wind blew next. The mountain chose to spare her. The scales tipped just enough to bring her back from the edge, rocking on shaky heels, but then all paws were on solid ground again.
Comprehension failed her. She could not process it, could not rationalise it. Once her body knew it was safe, and her eyes refocused, they snapped onto Datura, wide and confused. Then fly. He had said it. She could not excuse it. A second new emotion burst into blazing existence at that moment, something which felt strange and hot and ravenous. "Maybe one day I will," she spat back at him, the emotion colouring her mind red, clouding it, burning down any of the lighthearted joys which normally consumed her. "Then you'll be happy."
It was ruined, she couldn't stay here anymore. If she looked out over that precipice, she would only see the ground rushing towards her. He had ruined it. Hardly able to stand the sight of him a moment longer, she tore away and ran back down the way they came, fleeing before he could see any of the misery in her face.
She'd win one day... if he wasn't the death of her first.