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10-04-2015, 08:38 PM
You are not surprised by the recognition from the blackbird, from the sweetness of the Songbird, nor the iciness bleeding from your wolf-lord in thick waves. What surprises you are his words as he turns to take his leave, as harshly as he no doubt had found the little group. You look to him for the tiniest fraction of a second before Lena begins singing, stealing your attention from the golden boy and back on to what you were summoned here to do. You do not step towards the woman or the group surrounding her flanks; do not offer her the warmth that you may have given everyone, everything, else. You simply close your eyes, breathing deeply as power wakes inside of you, reaching to permeate the blackbird’s torn flesh, tired bones; the dove-child’s tender newness, offering comfort from anything that may have plagued her. It is only as the song stops and she speaks that you withdrawal in to yourself, smiling to cover for the emptiness that you feel. You are happy to have helped them, happy to have soothed their hurts, but you cannot shake the distrust that lingers over your heart from the words of a man you hardly can tolerate. Surely they wouldn’t try to harm anyone here, after they had accepted help and begged for shelter? Your eyes narrow ever so slightly, a glance being tossed to Lena (seeking comfort, reassurance, or for your doubt to be amplified in her eyes) before looking back to each one of their faces in turn. “Yes, welcome, and congratulations. She is beautiful.” You can only hope that they wouldn’t, fear for the fate that awaits them should they find themselves tempted. |
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