Something hums softly in her chest, quiet now, chilled by the water which rushes down her throat, but constant. She brings her gaze back up to meet him, and the expression in her eyes is careful, almost shy. She lets herself step back from the water and back from him, widening the distance between them, as though afraid of what will happen if they come too close again. A warm smile curls on her still-wet lips, softening the lines of her gaunt copper face; her forelock hangs across it like a veil, and she tosses her head, wanting to see him, wanting him to see her. Is this what it is like, to have a friend, and believe that they have you, too? she wonders. She thinks of Sacre, of Hototo, of Amaris and Natraj. With them it has always been so difficult, such a challenge to gauge where she stands, what they feel. Her love for them is fierce and defensive, a desire to protect, to hold and defend. So what is different here, with him?
Perhaps, she thinks, she has fallen so far that where she stands does not matter- only that she stands at all, and that somebody is beside her.
Her attention lingers on the curve of Caneo's horn, the way his eyes glow, the way his face dances with shadows and his words fall like waves, each one a confession for her ears alone. He asks her if she's happy, if she has reached already that lofty goal- has she, she wonders? Is this what happy is? She has always thought it would be something more, something mighty- but here, in this place, with the gentle humming in her chest-
Maybe this is enough.
"I am."
Fire Dancer's smile broadens, brightens, spreads as embers down her back until she thinks she may burst with light. Two words, and they send the hum back into a roar; it is all she ever wants to hear, all she needs. Warmth spreads over her copper hide; her expressive eyes gaze gladly, gratefully, to her quicksilver friend, and the light they hold tells of something special, something which means the world to her, even if he never understands. Her voice is a soft, low note, a hanging melody in the quiet meadow which reaches out to stroke his cheek- "I am too, Caneo," the girl breathes, and it takes her aback because it is true.
From across the field and across their bond, she can feel the joy in her brother's heart.
As though sensing the silent exchange, Caneo asks where the kitsune is. "He is with our cousin, Amaris, back at the tree." Quietly the girl dims, her expression growing somber, the memory of her graceful cousin stark within her mind. The tendril of guilt grows sharp, cutting dangerously near her heart. I left her behind, she silently whispers- but she needed this, this moment. And if she could share what she'd gained here, couldn't that be enough? She looks at Caneo as though seeking an answer to a question unasked, her expression conflicted: a million things dance to her tongue, yet every one struggles to take tangible form.
The girl sighs, and lowers her head, letting her gaze drop from his face to his chest. "We've lost so many," she says at last, her voice soft and honest and tired. "Natraj is strong -" and she smiles here, fondly, fiercely, love for her brother filling her with pride "- and she needs him more than I do. I love her - love them - but I..."
She falters, her voice growing quiet as the memory of Kaj flashes through her mind, his words at Lace's death a knife in her gut. "You know nothing of grief, insolent child!" - and not for the first time she wonders if he was right. Perhaps she is nothing but a collection of nerves, self-centered and blind to the suffering of others- perhaps that is why she cannot be strong, not for Amaris and not for Natraj. She wants to be, yearns to be, but she is so young, so tired, and...
"It's hard, sometimes," she says at last, but the storm which raged within her is still, and she turns herself back outside, back toward him. A rueful smile flickers at the corners of her mouth, sadness and happiness waxing bittersweet across the crescent face. The words are a fraction of what she is feeling, but they leave her like ballasts off a diver's belt. She hopes he will not chastise her, will not withdraw his friendship in light of her failure- hopes that he will take her confessions as the treasured secrets they are, shared pieces of a guarded heart so rarely offered (or examined), and let her continue to stand here at his side, the glow of his starlight fueling her flame, encouraging a dream that maybe - maybe - it is not too late to start again.
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