She was, in all honesty, surprised to hear him chase after her. Oh sure, she had done the exact same thing during their last encounter, thoughtlessly chased after the disappearing back of someone she disliked utterly, but never in her life would she have imagined that Rikyn would do the same. What was even with this situation? Apart from his anger and her tears the situation was exactly the same, only mirrored and displaced from that windswept, sandy beach.

She missed the ocean, this time. In the infernal heat it was impossible to blame her tears on salty stains from the sea or too much sand in the eyes. The wind that could have aided her in the lie was long since past them, and the ground contained more rock and compressed dirt than sand anyway. She had no excuses, nowhere to run, and today she couldn't even muster up that usual spark of anger to fling Rikyn's jibes back in his face. It was a hateful situation, all in all. For long moments she just stood there with the neck bowed and wings drooping so much that the feathers trailed in the dirt, salty rivers paving their way down her cheeks. No point in running. No point in hiding. No point in pretending to be strong when she really wasn't.

If only he had actually cared, instead of flinging the question at her as if it was a weapon, as if daring her to say anything but 'nothing' or 'no point in telling you'. Did he expect more lies, more attempts to escape, more excuses? Maybe he did, maybe he didn't - Erthë couldn't tell anymore, and she really wasn't sure that she cared anymore. He moved away when she got close - it was enough of a truth for her.

Then, if she got really close, like, up close and personal, maybe he would leave altogether? A thin smile, bitter and tear stained, appeared on her lips. It was worth a shot.

"Oh, nothing much. I'm just on my way to see if there are any remains left after my moms body. She died in the third Rift war battle, see, and it's my fault she's gone, so I thought a little visit would be in place. Least I can do, you know. Go ahead, Rikyn, laugh. I'm crying because mommy is dead, isn't that hilarious."

Raising her head she met his gaze and took a step forward, prepared to see his angry expression change into one of scorn, of disgust, or perhaps even amusement. This time she would be ready; she had steeled herself, all barriers raised, thorns turned outwards to repel whatever retorts he might have. They would come, she was certain; this was Rikyn, and she was a fool for ever expecting anything other than meanness from him.

Big girls cry when their hearts are breaking