Själ

And just as Zèklè was not truly suicidal, Själ was not truly angry with the lightning boy. In her quietest moments, she found herself missing him. It infuriated her, that the metallic colt from her first visit to Helovia had managed to get under her skin, to keep her from falling headlong into the role that her mother had been convinced that she was meant to play - but she was grateful all the same, because for whatever distance might have arisen between the two, Själ always knew that Zèklè would come back, that he would always greet her with that warm, jolly grin, that they could always go back to racing up the path to the Heavenly Fields, go back to playing princess and knight, go back to just being them. In a world of expectations, Zero's laid back nature had always given the princess a moment to just be.

She could never be mad at him, not really. Even if he had invited her to live with him and then just disappeared.

More than anger, though, worry had pervaded her thoughts of Zèklè, for she was convinced that he could not have just forgotten her. (Could he? Gods, please, no.) Something, therefore, must have happened to keep him from fulfilling his promise. Something like his ma disappearing and something like him getting himself lost (metaphorically speaking, anyway). Unfortunately, Själ could relate all too well. A frown fell across her face, her eyes flashing in a vaguely angry sort of way - how could Zero's mother simply abandon him? Didn't she know how he idolized her? Didn't she know that he needed her? Bitch.

But that was unfair, and she knew it. She said nothing at first, simply watched him with worried eyes, debating whether or not to press him, to ask him to let her share his burden, to ask him to trust her. For a moment, she thought about skimming past his outburst, acting as though nothing had changed - oh, how easy it would have been to just move on, to go about their business, to share in the happiness that they had always managed to find in each other. But things had changed, and, most importantly, he was not okay. Själ was burdened now with her need to protect those she cared about (even Zèkle; especially Zèkle), and she would not - could not - allow him to suffer alone.

"Zero..." she murmured, "... don't -" Don't what? Don't push her away? Don't put on a mask? Don't lie? She sighed. "I've been fine, I guess. I... I've missed you." She swallowed down a lump that had appeared suddenly in her throat, reaching her muzzle out to him for comfort, almost as though she wanted to make sure he was really there. "You know - you know my mother, she disappeared and... and left me, too. You... you can talk about it, if, y'know, if you want?"

"Speak."
--Ansgar.--