[private] Desolation comes upon the sky // Brennen

[Scorch]

"Brennen."

His name left her charred lips with more sobriety than it had in some time, a reflection of how she knew he was feeling; true, a year or more had passed since the murder of his daughters, but that... That's not something that you can come back from. Her heart clenched empathetically, and in its own pain, too; her own share of children had died, and though the pain receded now and again, it never lessened when she stopped to remember it.

She drew closer to him, silent for now as they stood there, secluded from the rest of the world in a thicket that seemed nigh on impenetrable. It didn't smell like his pretty wife, Galilee, but it smelt a lot like him, as if he hid himself here when everything became too much to deal with. Her eyes flashed to the trees that tucked them in so close, finding vines and imagining roses along their lengths; she smiled at the though, tears pricking her eyes. She couldn't quite place why her eyes became wet; but so much had changed, and so much would never, ever be the same again... And Brennen knew this best of all.

Inhale. Her eyes slid back to Brennen, and though she didn't know it, they'd shifted to their natural green; even in all her nakedness and all her scarring, she presented herself to him with an utmost trust and vulnerability. She didn't have to think about it, didn't even question the natural instinct which lead her head to his shoulder where it then rested with ease. A touch between friends, one of consolation and comfort, one of empathy and understanding. The words themselves came less easily to the mare, though she'd never had trouble running her mouth in the past. But as her mind traveled back to Rain and to Ea, and to all the children who'd been gone long enough that they may well have died without her knowing, she simply couldn't find the words.

But maybe, just maybe, he could.

"Tell me about them, Bren." She shifted her head slightly, getting more comfortable against him, even though no one else could have ever made her more comfortable (except perhaps one stallion, but her mind wandered elsewhere tonight...). Her eyes closed gently as she awaited a response, but the image of Galilee did not interrupt her, and the thought of her loving husband Hestoni stayed at bay, too. In her mind, at this moment, they were simply old friends mourning the loss of their own children, born from their own spouses... and for the moment, that was all she could do.

We love you, mom.
I love you too.