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08-30-2016, 09:22 AM
i never said i'd stay to the end
Leadership weighs a heavier burden than she had thought it would. No longer can she have the simplicy of mourning, time set aside to ease her way into her emotions and work through them so that on the other side, she can be a more stable person.
No, they do not allow her this. The Sun God hasn't even allowed her this, immediately taking her magic from her as if he had read her mind in knowing that being a healer was no longer something she wishes to do, or maybe he really did read her mind, and decide that her failure in saving Gaucho would end in her punishment of taking the Throat up in her definitely not large enough arms like she had done her children and save them from the uncertainty of their future.
The ocean of her thoughts turns into a raging hurricane in turn, unsure but knowing only that it is violent and that it must do something.
A branch snaps beneath her hooves, drags her back to the low sunlight into the forest and the crying of birds that abruptly stopped with her mistake. Hobgoblin looks at her with large ears pricked, expression drawn out and wide, long on his small, feline features, tail curled into a small question mark behind him.
The returned face to him is nearly as long as his own, sagging beneath endless weights and constant worrying, blue eyes filled up with fear, sadness and discomfort, ear hanging instead of thrown up like mountains as his do. Hunger takes a few gentle, baby nibbles out of her stomach. Neither of them are sure whose it is, but that still leaves them to the chance that it is the both of them.
"Are you going to go hunt?" Speaking out loud to him has become sort of coping method within the past days. If there is company, then obviously she doesn't out of their near constant need for privacy, but nonetheless the idea of speaking to someone, anyone keeps her grounded.
The irony of her choice to wander out of her herdland when needing company is great. She searches out loneliness when a portion of her begs and pleads for company and comfort from the bodies of those around her.
"Not want."
A frown stitches across her features. Hobgoblin's tail begins to shake as the itch to give up this current body for another one starts up.
"Why not?"
The birds are back to chirping as her voice whispers her out of her choice of two words, flipping the table on him as she becomes to the one to ask that same typical question. A breeze, one whose temperature is sinking towards its Orangemoon state, runs between the trees and brushes the palms of its hands against anyone it can find.
And like this is a textbook example of their connection, bond, soul-entertwining, whatever you would like to call it, Hobgoblin responded with his body breaking apart and rebuilding in front of her, slamming her with the emptiness of a stiff expression that has no muscles or skin to show her how he feels.
I hate it when you do that.
Like nearly every other time with her statements that fall into that category, she is met with silence, the proof that Hobgoblin, past all of her insecurities and fears that are growing at a remarkable state during this time, doesn't care anymore than he must.
OOC: I TRIED, OKAY?
they're just standing around in the woods doing nothing. Hobgoblin is in his serval form up until his change is mentioned and is then in his wendigo form.
when both us knew how the end always is
you were angels,
so much more than everything
:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed
