HOLD MY HAND AGAINST THE NIGHT

SHOW ME ALL THE DEMONS LEFT TO FIGHT:

The apology is strange and barren upon the lips of a stranger. Ru offers a small grunt, noncommittal to the suggestion of accepting the apology, and watches for Erthë’s next move. The sound of her weighted sigh, and the particular contortion of that face reminds the girl of a familiar gesture. Witnessed perhaps several times on different faces, dismissing the need to dissolve her furrow. For it stands as steady as her gaze, sharpening her features in the coolness surrounding them. Unmoved.

Although, she is grateful to move on. The dun shakes the snow collecting against her body, ruffling wings, and flicking that tail. Erthë explains her suspicion, but the feeling is mutual. Ru nods with a chirp that exits from her mouth. She understands, and for a moment the tension finally seems to ease off. Despite the bad taste that lingers in her mouth. She will persist, she will adapt despite her failures, challenges and learn somehow. The girl doesn’t realize how homesick she truly is…

She can feel the pale eye glance back – and perhaps it isn’t as blind as the girl had first thought. But the look is brief, and Ru ignores the weight or the severity that it holds to push further in. Head held high, ears pressed forwards, approaching trees that the girl could recall from her first visit to the Edge.

With the billowing cry that exits Erthë’s mouth, there will soon be others to join them. The idea is an uncomfortable thought, to be examined and appraised for entry. A small amount of tension begins to twist inside her, but with the appearance of Lyanna there is hope. A small smile crawls against her features. Ru trills in greetings, eyes beaming when she spots the feather nestled within Lyanna's tail. That lofty smile finally blooms. Discarding indifference for radiance, a light that breaches past those weary eyes. 

”Do you have a name in a way you can tell us?” She shakes her head. No, not yet, but perhaps someday she would be clever enough to think up of one? Or perhaps she could tackle it with someone who had the time to search her for the words and sounds.

Lyanna asks the inevitable. The girl deflates and nods in response. She isn’t sure what she should feel – happy? Sad? She wasn’t certain what this herd life was going to be like. As long as it wasn’t empty, and forlorn; unless the goal of herd life was to become something the collective desired, needed. To make oneself valuable, is that how it's supposed to be?

For the time being she treasured her brief encounter with Lyanna. And stepped forward, awkward and hesitant before she extended her muzzle to her dark shoulder.

Was this failure, or grace? She simply couldn’t tell, too proud and tired to delve any deeper than the surface.

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