“You’re too hard on yourself.”

I snorted derisively, and maybe it could have been a cynical chuckle, I dunno. I just knew that I knew myself and my actions better than anyone else ever could. I was the one person I couldn’t hide myself from--well. Me and my Pa, maybe, if he were watching up where he was (and I hoped to high Heaven that his eye missed me a few times).

*“You’re not a failure. You’re not. You’re Roskuld...my Roskuld.”*

This drew a shaky sigh from me that rocked my shoulders; my lips found her skin again and I wanted to fall into her, onto her, hold her and let her hold me and let that be the end of it. To hell with anyone else; she had called me her Roskuld. You hear that? This gorgeous bitch had claimed me and maybe I didn’t understand the gift she had given me at that moment but I felt how precious it was all on its own; a talisman, an amulet that I could clutch when the storm clouds would start to billow. Her Roskuld; I was her’s, and there was no way I could let myself forget that.

She finally pulled herself away from me, and with her presence she took her radiating warmth and the cloud of her scent wafting over me; I shook my head and raised my eyes to hers, catching the crimson glitter that danced in the contours of her face.

*“I still have part of you with me….I still have that ring you gave me.”*

“No shit?” I asked, my voice perking a little. Tell the truth, I forgot all about the embarrassment that ring had been; from getting it made by some shady guy in the woods to actually getting it to her and trying not to let my voice crack or the heat rush too hard up to my face. I failed both those tasks; but I remember how happy she had been with it, and how gorgeous she had looked with it on. I looked passed her to see it now at the base of her tail--and I understood at that moment why I had missed it before; her scar had jumped out at me, violent and deranged and a whole tragedy that clouded my vision from the sparkle of her tail.

She asked me about her feather; I froze. “Uhh…” I kinda stammered, stuck; I probably lost it when the infection took over and I had spent all those months rough and dirty and confused and hurt, oh so hurt, and frightened for her and the people I loved. No matter; here she was, hurting herself once more so I could have a token of her to keep with me, a reminder that she owned me (but in the good way, I swear). I took it from her, my movements slow and deliberate; I reached around and tried to sew it into my mane, struggling fiercely until it was kinda-sorta-maybe caught in my mane. Uhhh, yeah, probably would need to adjust it at some point--but Jiji was talking again and her voice did things to me that drew my eyes to her.

She lived in the Dragon’s Throat; it took me some moments to remember that was the hot, shitty sand place I had wandered to sometime ago. I tried to keep the sneer of disgust off my face; god, why’d she have to live in the crappiest hell-hole on this green earth? But she told me she hadn’t been back since...well. Y’know. “Ji…” I said under my breath, coming close to her again. I hated hated hated hearing the pain in her voice, seeing the way it contorted her features into a miserable thing.

“...y’know,” I breathed to her, my words slow and pensive, “They probably miss you.” And it wasn’t like I wanted her to live there--but I knew that if she hadn’t showed up in some time, I’d worry about her, too. “Your...your son probably wants his Ma.” It was so weird to think about Jiji being someone’s Mama; it made my heart swell and pull at the same time, like we were growing up too fast too far apart from each other.




@[Ranjiri]