Why had he touched her?
Why had he invited her here?
Why had he thought that it was a good idea to bring her back into this pit of vipers with only him and Starsin to keep him company. To be honest, he wasn’t clear why he was even still here. Why he hadn’t just cut his losses and left Sylva in search of another home. Another place. Although, part of him knows that if he left now that he would never stop moving. Never stop looking for something that he knows he won’t find. He could spend the rest of his life hunting for a home and it would never come.
So he stays in Sylva.
And he keeps an eye on her—even if it’s from afar.
Except today she is rushing into the freezing rain. He has managed to find some shelter underneath some of the thicker branches of the trees and his wings are particularly large today, the material some sort of glossy, waterproof feather on top and thick down below. It manages to keep him warm, keep the bite of winter from cutting straight through his bones, but it does nothing to shield him from the rush of fear and frustration and anger when he sees her rush into the water. It does nothing to stop the headache that forms.
He should just let her freeze to death, he thinks.
He should just let her.
But even as the thought forms, he cuts it off with a groan as steps forward, as he moves from the protection of the trees and feels the rain fall down—heavy and unrelenting. His mane becomes instantly drenched, plastered against the deep red of his neck and forelock and his light grey eyes burn with his irritation. He moves forward until he nears her with her head turned upward and lifts one of his strange grey wings over her back. “You’re just determined to kill yourself, aren’t you.”
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache
but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake