lost to the hunt as I was to you; pyxis, malis

[pyxis]

she'll lie and steal and cheat and beg you from her knees
make you thinks she means it this time

Hope is a dangerous thing. It flutters in her throat, presses against her bones, turning the insides of her into a softness she doesn’t recognize. She wakes each morning by his side and even though the happiness of it turns her golden, she still finds herself surprised that she doesn’t feel the need to run. She doesn’t feel the need to flee. Instead she finds herself grow languid in the moments, pressing her lips dreamily to his jaw, nestling further still, wondering how long they can lay together before they need to go.

Today was different though.

Today, she wanted to get up. Wanted to pierce this bubble that contains them.

She is eager but she tries to hide it, tries to keep the hope from her eyes. She just grows quiet, the seriousness of it radiating from her. She remains quiet as they get up, shaking the slumber and the forest from her coat. She remains quiet as they venture forth, flanked by some wolves and following the path that they had been predestined to follow. She presses her nose into the warmth of muscle on his shoulder, the only sign she can give to the internal war that rages within her, the hope—the fear.

She withdraws it soon though and instead chooses to walk silently by his side, her mottled lips pressed close together, antlered head lowered as she smells the earth and the wind, as if she would have any ability to track the family of hers so broken up and spread far and wide across Beqanna.

It felt good to try though.

When he finally breaks the silence, she angles her head toward him, ocean eyes wide and vulnerable before him. She tries to brush off the fear, whispering. “This is silly. I don’t even know why we’re trying.” But she takes a deep breath, closing her eyes on a sigh. “I’m scared, Daemron.”

she'll tear a hole in you, the one you can't repair
but I still love her, I don't really care

@[Daemron] @[jenger]