the Rift


[OPEN] the fire in your heart is out

Sikeax the Sea Soul Posts: 355
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 5 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Hobgoblin :: Common Rougarou :: Water & Seoul :: Plain White Dragon :: Toxic Breath Zuno
#1
well someday soon when the spring brings the sun
i'll sleep, i'll finally
feel better when the winter's gone
sikeax
Get it all out of your system before it’s too late. Seoul’s eyes won’t leave her, slightly judgement but more confused, questioning her logic as Hobgoblin’s eyes burn with hate and forewarning, because now that Sikeax has become everything that’s ever going to matter to him in his life, seeing her going back into the dragon’s den kills him. It crumples up the steel of his heart and melts the logic in his brain. It rips his soul apart and leaves him battered and broken, wondering why this is a good decision.
“They not love You.” Eyes closed shut as tight as they’ll go, bleeding tears as they strain. The agony of the reminder comes back in and hits hard, leaving a faint whimper in Seoul’s throat that she barely catches. It doesn’t have to be like this, but it does, because Hobgoblin is never gonna love her the same if she doesn’t let him tear her down.
So, the entire time that his thoughts go through her head, she tells herself that it’s out of love and care, that he just wants what’s best for her.
“They say no. Sia left. Sia failed. Sia no longer want live in Throat.”
It doesn’t feel her’s when he says it so coldly, malice lacing around the three letters and sinking deep into their core. What used to be something so special and loving between the two of them has become nothing more than a way for him to draw out the most of her in the shortest amount of time, to strike the deepest so that she’ll crumble in just the right way that she won’t want to do this.
Volterra will let me in. He won’t reject me.
“Ampere Sultana too.”

She spares a few seconds to think over how he choses to use her true name instead of a haphazardly made nickname, how it probably means something stronger in the long run when it comes to how the Rougarou feels about the small Pegasus. Any extra thoughts are discarded with a shrug of the shoulders, Seoul humming a piece of her confusion into the mix as her world draws out into a confusing mix of emotions and silence.
“I don’t think they’re going to turn me away.”
“If? What do?” There’s an accusing sensation to his words, burrowing into her skin as if he wants to remind her of everything she did leading up to now.
“Then I guess we’ll go live with Rikyn.”
Another idea that he’s not particularly fond of, and one that makes Seoul chirp with worry. While her experiences with the northern herd are all positive, the cold in the air isn’t something she can feel herself before very overjoyed about. Except, the Dragon’s Throat is only across a long stretch of water, one that makes her whine at the idea of crossing but nonetheless wins her curiosity over tenfold, and the majority of Sikeax’s memories relating to it is positive.
He shoots her a look that runs his hate down his face like raindrops, coloured black as his nose wrinkles up in a disgusted position. “If you hate everything I do, then why don’t you go?
It strikes a cord and all of them know it, Seoul tucking into herself as the situation heightens into Hobgoblin recoiling in disbelief, fear slipping into the soup of emotions as anger tries to take control.
All he can do is sit there in the cool, damp sand and watch her go, steadily making her way towards the beginning of the northern border of the island with Seoul clinging to her mane, head turned around to watch everything he does for her, pity and worry written across her features. Regardless of how the little dragon frets, Sikeax feels nothing, a seemingly empty void with strong features as the tide climbs up her legs.

OOC: GUESS WHO'S HOME
Hobgoblin is in his leopard seal form and lounging out in the sand behind sia, on the mainland side of the Dragon's Throat. Waiting to be re-accepted back into the Throat.

"Talk."
image credits

@Volterra, but anyone else is free to come and bother her some while she stands around and waits


you were angels,
so much more than everything

:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed


Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#2
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

Vadir's shriek rips the air like a benediction, an ungodly sound of pure rage and unadulterated hatred. Volterra looks up from his grazing to see the golden queen squinting into the distance, and he's granted with the sudden image of a white dragon. The only white dragon he knows is Abraham's, and he's fully on board with Vadir smashing that particular plain into the ground, but there's something that doesn't quite add up about this vision. In the blurred edges of it he can see something...familiar.

Vadir, what is it? She sends him another image of the white, and her utter contempt radiates through his mind from her.

"It's disgusting," she hisses, and without warning she disappears into the distance to do what comes naturally to this unfortunate runt of dragon society. Sensing something isn't right, Volterra gallops off in pursuit, and before long the Throat gives way to open ocean. His fire-wings erupt courtesy of his key and bring him flying across the sea in pursuit of Vadir. No sooner has he alighted on the other side than he sees Sikeax, and his muzzle splits into a grin of delight. He can see Hobgoblin at her side, and is that....a white dragon? He'd never realised she had equine blood before, enabling her to bond to a dragon. "Sikeax!" he booms in greeting, moving towards her.

Yet as soon as he comes within touching distance of her, Vadir appears above him, a golden bullet. She aims for the young white dragon, claws and teeth extended, revulsion evident in every fibre of her massive, gleaming body as she moves inexorably towards the little plain. Volterra feels a spasm of concern - if Vadir gets hold of Sikeax's new companion, there's no telling what she'll do. She'd brutally attacked both Babel and Dramyrth for the mere crime of being male, despite their golden scales; only the Gods know what she would do to the white.

But then there's a flash of red, and a protective snarl that rips through the air. Vérzés hurtles towards his much bigger golden sister, and he slams into her, pushing her aside just before she can reach the white. Vadir gives a thunderous roar of outrage and twists around to wrap her jaws around the neck of her assailant, and thus begins a savage battle of gold and red, of royal and common. Enough! booms Volterra, but for once, neither dragon obeys him. They continue at their battle, hissing and spitting and blasting fire and ice at each other, sending frissons of loathing and pain down their bond to their mammoth Indomitable. He winces each time - the dragons had seemed to be getting on much better recently, yet it seems Vérzés's like of Sikeax and Hobgoblin also extends to her new white companion. For him to challenge the colossal Vadir in protection of the white...it is either brave or very stupid.

Trying to ignore the fierce battle overhead, Volterra looks to Sikeax. "You have a dragon," he remarks.

image by neverr the glorious

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Valdís Posts: 24
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 1 year
dark
#3
tie a rope around your neck,
and let me kick you off a bungee
Apa is bringing more life into the world than should be physically possible, I am not (and never have been) some precious gift gracing Apa or my mother, their little miracle. I have never been the child to be adored and spoiled, to be cherished and grateful for with adventure and curiosity burning brightly within me. I am no child to be proud of and thankful for, to wish to see grow strong and well, to watch go far in life.

Hiba, I will hear them whisper behind my back, harsh and judgmental with their sunken eyes and ivory features. They are better, they are favoured, cherished. Hiba, they will mock as I pass them by with the stench of rot still clinging to my skin even though my wounds have long since healed. Hiba, the titan and his offspring will chant in unison, each syllable burrowing further beneath my skin until it's staining my insides black and blue, until I am crushed beneath their gazes and erased from their memories.

I will never matter to any of them, who wants to love something ugly?
"Was für eine hässliche sache,"
one of them had said to me, in my mother's eyes I could see their disgust when they first took me in and looked me over, lip curling and body tensing at the sight of me, the Unsightly. "Maga a legrondább dolog, amit valaha láttam," he'd said to me in the language I found comfort and familiarity in, my safety blanket when the world became too much. I had snapped at him, refused to take his insult to heart, but even as I spat poison back at the hooves of the insolent, his words burned into my sin, tainted my mind until it was all I could hear. Over and over their words would echo, mocking me no matter what I did or where I went, always in my ear about how disgusting I was. And I would feel their gazes grazing my skin, digging into the back of my head and their claws sinking into my innocence. They would not let me go, with their manic screaming and wild hate, clinging to me as though their lives depended on my humiliation and crushed confidence.

I return to the Throat shamefully, having spent time away in hopes that I could rebuild myself if only temporarily, desperate to find a way to tune out the dismaying voices that sought only to ruin me entirely. I found nothing, returning home empty handed and despairing as I trudge to the edge of the border, where the cool water rushed up against the beach and swallows it whole, erasing any signs of others. My hooves sink into the soft earth and I wish it would simply swallow me whole, where I wouldn't fight or thrash as my body slips beneath the surface and I fail to return, forgotten and discarded by everyone. I think it would be for the better.

I begin to reject that as I hear a familiar, soft voice that sends my heart yearning, reaching desperately to find her, warm body knee deep in the ocean as she stands before the waves. I am tripping over myself to get to her, digging my hooves into the ground to gain more ground as I rush forward towards the Sea Soul, whimpering at the thought of her and how long she has been gone. I grew fond of her company, attached to her presence as it soothed me, she treated me how a mother should treat a child, not harshly or distantly the way my mother does, but with affection and devotion. In a world full of hate, she was the guiding light, even with her own troubles to face she was so much more to me— I fall forward before her, gasping with my mouth hanging open hauntingly and hollow sockets pointed towards her, mapping the colours that coat her body.

And I see him too, Apa is there at her side and I am burning, begging to have a moment alone with the Sea Soul, seeking her maternal comforts and to hear of where she has been. I want her attention to fall to me, the panting bastard with her knees weak and heart heavy, to know that I have been tormented, tortured by the emptiness, the temptation of death and escape. I look only to her, to the petite reptilian body grasping at her mane with it's cold blood and warm belly, scaled and magnificent in the way Apa's dragons are. But this one is so small, exponentially smaller than the two who are bound to Apa, thin and childish.

"You're back, are my words, distressed and fractured as I move closer, shaking and quiet, full of uncertainty and a broken will. She is the only motherly figure I have ever known, and I have needed her ever since she turned her back on the Throat and disappeared. "Ahol—" I cut myself short, choking on the familiar syllables of apa's tongue and swallowing them, out of despair, crushed by my emotions, I have returned to the language I rely on most. "Where?" It comes out breathless, fearful, I am worried and upset by the Sea Soul's departure, hurt by her absence and desperate to know why. I am selfishly placing myself before her, so undeserving of the love she has shown before she disappeared, the love my own mother would not give to me, so undeserving of anyone's attention or affections. So why do I seek it out?

Sikeax the Sea Soul Posts: 355
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16 hh :: 5 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Hobgoblin :: Common Rougarou :: Water & Seoul :: Plain White Dragon :: Toxic Breath Zuno
#4
well someday soon when the spring brings the sun
i'll sleep, i'll finally
feel better when the winter's gone
sikeax
The wait isn’t long. She’s a tad bit thankful that it isn’t, that she isn’t left alone with her thoughts and her conscious (Hobgoblin) so that she can rethink this decision and slide off into the sea, probably leaving poor Seoul behind in the process so that for however long she chooses, she can hide in her self-pity and pain. How the little dragon would take the situation is a gamble: Sikeax imagines that she’ll either be heartbroken and panicked, crying out for her and Hobgoblin as if they had left her just as her true mother had, or simply accept the circumstances and attempt to live her life out on her own without them.
The first idea seems more reasonable as her grip tightens on her, crouching down lower and pulling her wings in until they surround her, whimpering. There’s a touch of fear lingering on her lips when she cries out, letting out soft chirps that makes Hobgoblin uneasy.
If her companions can figure things out before she does, then they’re not telling.
It’s the screams, emphasis on the plural form of their actions, that makes her know that something isn’t right.
Hobgoblin reacts in what is natural, bursting into a different set of skin a few times over, breaking into blurry masses that Sikeax can’t make out regardless of how hard she tries, before coming out on the other side with his lips wrinkled up into snarling formations, his hate of this entire day finding an outlet.
It only makes him even more overjoyed that it’s Vadir upsetting Seoul so much, who is busy squealing and cowering in fear, coiled up as close to Sikeax as she can with her wings tucked in as tight as they’ll go, leaving nothing but a small head with scared blues out so that she can survey. Her previous scream has left road rash in her throat, and any other kind of vocalization she attempts comes out sore and weak.
For Sikeax, it’s the first time in what feels like forever that she never wanted Volterra to come to her, watching with her body stiffening and eyes harsh as he wastes no time in making his way over, Vadir on his heels. She even nearly turns tail and runs.
Bittersweet happiness nearly kills her when he gives her such an excited greeting, yelling her name out for anyone to hear, letting them know she’s come back to look upon her failures, that wasting away in the ruins of her once-home is how she likes to live these days. “Please don’t.” barely whispers its way off of her lips.
Please don’t bring the beast over.
But Hobgoblin already has their backs, stepping in before her and promptly standing as tall as his petite structure will allow him to, snarling as vividly as one can manage when there are barely any facial muscles left over. For whatever you’d like to call the noise that comes out of his mouth with some sort of ear-splitting agony, something akin to a screech but a howl in the same manner, it works miracles for finding its purpose.
Or at least it does for Sikeax, who jolts her head back just enough for Seoul to partially lose her grip and cry, clutching on with whatever strength resides in her small hands.
It ends up playing out in a way that none of them come to expect, Sikeax standing with the most bravery that she can muster up in an attempt to protect her youngest child, standing stiff with her entire body pulled into its tallest point, hard eyes filled with the words “fucking try me” as Vadir barrels her way towards them. If there was ever a true chance for her to incite her revenge upon the queen for her previous treatment of Hobgoblin and her attempt at attacking her, then now would have been the best chance.
Vérzés, against all odds, is the one who saves them.
Her eyes had already been clutched shut, Hobgoblin waiting for the right time to make a move on her, and like it’d never had happened, the dragon is gone.
There’s an audible gasp from her brother, something she’d never expect from him. Hearing it makes her eyes lunge open, searching out anything that resembled the queen before Seoul whines out an alert that the fury has moved upwards, into the sky. Only a few seconds are spared to look at it, feeling heavy guilt as the battle between the two escalades, because if either of them were to get hurt, and worse, die from their wounds, the blame would easily rest on her shoulders.
It comes to worsen as she looks on to Volterra, who’s face clearly states the brutality of his dragons’ engagement. Any leftovers of her attempt at being brave are quick to be replaced by a display of shame and genuine worry, Seoul now deciding to pull her head out a bit further from her makeshift shield to cry out an apology in his direction. All of this feels as if it’s already her fault, even though she’s done nothing to bring it.
“I’m sorry” crumbles out of her lips, ears ducked down as her eyes fill up with a look of sorrow. Hobgoblin scuffs, despite the overwhelming feeling of worry set in the direction of Vérzés.
She can’t spend much time etching out apologies though. Hobgoblin lets out a quick squeal of delight, winning an explosion of terror and surprise as his younger sister leaps in her skin, pulling herself completely out know to see exactly what all the commotion is about. Her eyes search him out and proceed to follow him, Sikeax quickly doing the same with a gradual turn of the head, ever careful of Seoul’s grip, watching as his body leaps into his last form and goes about weaving in between the legs of the filly with a purr tucked firmly into his throat.
The decline into something more calm, despite the fact that Seoul cannot stop herself from stealing glances into the direction of her larger, older species members, enough that a smile tugs at the corners of Sikeax’s lips and works fast to burn away any remaining worries. It feels wonderful to know that there’s people here who still love her, that are happy to see that she’s going to try to come back home.
Valdís’ presence is immediately met with love and affection as soon as she’s within Sikeax’s reach, having already been smothered by Hobgoblin’s feelings towards her, and as her muzzle swoops down to shower her, multiple notes are taken on how even if she doesn’t say, a thorough bath was in order and that the child had grown, steadily working her way towards womanhood. The thought makes her feel funny, though. All of her children are growing up on her, and here she is, left to wonder how much time is really left with them.
A statement comes out that makes her see the true seriousness of this before she can truly enjoy it. She liked to believe that her mind had already been made, that she’d take up residence in the Throat with Volterra and any of her children that remained there after hoping that they would disregard her previous failures, but had she actually thought it through? One of her children are already here, doting her as much as they can manage and expressing all sorts of love in her direction, and Volterra might as well had been glowing at the sight of her when her name ran over his lips.
It’d kill them if I said I was just visiting. She tells Hobgoblin over the sound of Seoul making out her greetings, obvious delight filling her up as she nearly squeaks in the direction of the Sultan and the filly.
The first response is a strong huff, then followed by “stay? Not stay long, but stay?”
The idea of putting a time limit on their time here seems like a mistake in itself, so all she does in return is give him the mental shake of the head, signaling that their time here would at least try to be permanent.
“I am.” It comes out with the best assurance that she can manage, lifting her eyes up to meet Volterra’s, searching for acceptance. “If Volterra wouldn’t mind having me back.” Playful teasing, if anything.
Guilt comes back around as she eventually breaks off the contact with the girl, lifting her head up as Seoul’s continues to hang down, chittering out vocals in an attempt to gain as much attention as she can. Volterra’s acknowledgement of the dragon has somehow brushed over her head, probably forgotten by accident when her mind had been busy with the arrival of one of her daughters. “Her name’s Seoul.” The child snaps to attention at the sound of her name, making eye contact with the stallion before chittering out her confusion. “We only bonded recently, after Hobgoblin and I found an abandoned nest.” Abandoned is only one way to explain it, but it’s best left in that sense.
Valdís comes to whisk them away from the subject of dragons, though, and more onto where they’ve been hiding away. Pride comes in briefly just so she can feel good about how well she’s escaped this, but not without the linger aftertaste of shame. Her child missed her because she, unlike Seoul’s mother, couldn’t sacrifice herself for them.
So, with a hint of the guilt and shame she feels from her time away, Sikeax can only mutter out a small response. “I was in the North, where I grew up.”

OOC: Hobgoblin goes from leopard seal, wendigo, serval.

"Talk."
image credits

@Volterra @Valdís


you were angels,
so much more than everything

:: please tag me
:: minor force and power play allowed


Volterra the Indomitable Posts: 785
Dragon's Throat Sultan atk: 8.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 8.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17'2hh :: 3 HP: 80 | Buff: SENSE
Vérzés :: Common Red Dragon :: Frost Breath & Toxic Breath & Vadir :: Royal Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Shock Breath Snow
#5
THE INDOMITABLE

HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE

Dragon battles are noisy affairs, and the Throat's sky is afire with the feral shrieks of red and gold. Neither of them gives any quarter to the other - Vadir is larger, stronger, but her red brother is agile, nimble, and filled with his bonded's innate stubbornness. Neither dragon wishes to be the one to give up, although Volterra can sense deep down that they won't go as far as killing each other. They know better, and he knows that the battle sounds worse than it is. Still, it makes his jaw set in a hard line and his eyes flash with anger at the sight of his two companions savagely ripping into each other, as he's reminded once again that he's been condemned never to have the harmonious dragon-relationship that he'd dreamed of when he was a boy. The two might tolerate each other, but this fracas proves that they will never like each other, which upsets Volterra in a way he simply can't put into words.

Sikeax's words cause the mammoth man to shake his great head. "No, it is not your fault, Sikeax. It's Vadir, she's...." He desperately searches for the correct word. How to summarise the gleaming royal dragon above him? "Difficult." He glances upwards, still frowning. The golden queen is beautiful, she is savage and strong and willing to tear apart anybody who so much as blinks at her warlord bonded, and those traits are ones that Volterra admires, in a way. He enjoys her primal need to dominate all other dragons, but that doesn't mean he doesn't occasionally wish that she was....meeker. Easier to handle. It goes against his somewhat sexist beliefs to see that the female of the dragon species is so superior to her male kin, and he supposes that's a large part of the reason why seeing her desperately trying to put Vérzés in his place hurts him so much.

Before he can question the Sea Soul futher, he's made aware of another. It's Valdis, and the Indomitable's harsh features soften visibly as he moves towards her. "Valdis, drágám." His muzzle extends to softly touch her shoulder, whilst his ears spin around to pick up Sikeax's words. She wishes to rejoin? He's hard-pressed to keep the smile from reappearing across his mouth, even if there's a sudden twist of nerves in the pit of his stomach. Accepting the mare back will no doubt be an unpopular decision to those who condemned her - he's thinking Tae, Ampere, Aithniel, all detractors of the Sea Soul during her reign. Having Sikeax back amongst them, and the other untrusting members of the herd, might cause chaos - might cause them to remove some of their backing from Volterra for his decision.

That, though, only makes the beast set his jaw into a hard line, determination glowing through each ruby eye. Sikeax is his friend - if any question his decision to accept her back into the fold, they'll have the Indomitable to answer to.

"Igen, of course you may rejoin." He flashes the Sea Soul his toothiest, cheeriest grin. "Would you like to return to the ranks of the healers?" Then she'd be working beneath Astarot, his newly-appointed Sun Physician.

He looks at the little white dragon as Sikeax introduces her as Seoul. Compared to the pair of war-dragons battling in the skies, she's dreadfully small and probably not much use in a fight, but she's a pretty thing, just like her bonded. He huffs a greeting at her, although he knows better than to go and touch muzzles to her as he'd made the mistake of doing with his sister's black.

image by neverr the glorious


Drágám - darling
Igen - yes

@Valdis

[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far  ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]




Valdís Posts: 24
Dragon's Throat Filly
Filly :: Pegasus :: 16hh :: 1 year
dark
#6
tie a rope around your neck,
and let me kick you off a bungee
When the word slips from his mouth, when my name falls from his mouth - I think I want to fall apart right there, to start screaming at him because how dare he call me such. It is nothing he has done, he has never been cruel to me, but I cannot believe that no one is cold, that there is not a callous bone in anyone's body - that they're all living their lives delighted by me, they love me unconditionally, the way a family loves one another. I can't convince myself, no matter how hard I try, that there's people that love me - it feels so fucked up that I continue to contradict myself, some days so sure that I have a family to come home to, that in the Throat I will always be welcome, some days crushed beneath the belief that they are spitting venom behind my back, spreading word of my failures, my existence.

My stomach twists as drágám falls from his lips and his muzzle presses to my shoulder, flinching at the foreign contact. I was not one for being touched and adored, for being the center of one's affections, it left a bad taste in the back of my throat that made me sick. The contact had me choking on my own words as I cock my head to look up at his face, wondering what it must really look like, not some blur of oranges and reds, warm tones shifting as he stands before me. He is a giant full of warmth, filled in by colours of a sunset I could not see, of blistering flames and kindness I did not deserve - I frequently ask myself why he (why anyone) is kind, why they are so unconditionally loving (the Sea Soul, apa, who else?). My mother (was it really her?) told me once that nobody was ever trustworthy, that they may love you now, but later you must prove you are deserving of it, that you serve their purpose until they no longer need you and then you are nothing. They told me that I was their pawn, not their rook, their knight, their queen, I was a pawn to be wasted - if they really cared, they would be cooing day in and out, they would be attentive and gentle, they would be soft and perfectly preening me. But they were distant (or was I?), silent and they abandoned me.

And as Sikeax's lips reach my skin, I want to shrink back, the same way I'd wanted to when Volterra's muzzle grazed my shoulder, wanted to shout and snarl like a cornered animal at the contact. Berühre mich nicht, I was ready to spit, even with the gentle, comforting touch of Sikeax that made me want to melt away, I still felt threatened, unable to trust that it was genuine affection directed towards me. Who would love something so ugly anyway? How could they stand to adore me when my wings were shriveled at my sides, numbed by the damage and mangled, twitching as I acknowledge them momentarily. And my face, how must that look to someone? To an outside perspective, I am hideous, as proven by varying encounters. So why do the Sea Soul and Indomitable bother? Why does anyone bother? Sie benutzen dich.

The hollowness of her voice, it's but a fraction, a fractured syllable, a fault that I hear as she confirms that this is her grand return, that she's facing the Throat once again and returning to her previous home. But what of her? Her words were forced, felt wrong as they slid from her tongue, and I'm wondering if she's reluctant to return, to face the same faces that pressured her into casting aside her crown. What will she do now? She is different, I can conclude this so easily, listening to her tone of voice in the way she talks, mentioning Volterra, brushing off the doubt and sweeping it beneath a playful tease. I do not believe it.

I feel the shift of my brows, not entirely intact, and not entirely under my control, but it's subtle and I am fighting off the need to ask her the questions that bubble to the surface. "Why haven't you come to visit? Or find me?" And now it's my turn for my voice to crack, for my words to falter and leave me tripping, stumbling, selfishly demanding the attention of the Sea Soul as apa lingers at our side, taking deep breaths before I can begin to break down.

Sikeax is all I had, the only maternal affection I'd ever experienced, and she left - I think I want to hate her for it, to turn a cold shoulder and snub my nose, pretend that I'm cold hearted and have no fucks to give. But it's such a lie as I cling to her attention, to her return and hope that she stays, because facing the world alone leaves me hopeless, I could collapse like a poorly built house right now if she told me it was only temporary, if she told me that her stay would be brief - that she had better things to dwell upon than the Throat and its residents. So I ask, taking the leap and letting the words slide from my tongue with hesitance as they go. "Are you really staying?"

@Sikeax


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