for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle
She has always been tenacious, but the plague has summoned a new ferocity out of her. Perhaps she should have a lion skin to wear. As she looks on Lie she wonders if he is put off my the absence of her usual effervescent sweetness.
Calming after the shock of all the changes that have befallen him she finds it harder not to reach out and comfort him. Affection has come easily between them from their first meeting, and they are somehow very comfortable and very attracted to one another all at once. His nose starts to run blood and her heart thunders, she takes a deep breath but doesn’t fuss, lets him speak because he is tired and it wont do to overreact.
“When knew this was a risk. Hell, it’s probably inevitable. We can find someone to help you.” She says kindly. And then tucks her chin in suprise when the cat jumps from his back to her own. Turning her head back and giving the feline a polite sniff. “Hello Rune.” She says, not making any move to dislodge the creature. She was as light as a feather and smelled a little like Lie.
“I’m fine Lie. Not sure how I feel about you carrying a lion around under your skin, but I can get used to it. I’m just worried about you.” The last sentence comes more softly and she shifts. His worry and fatigue calls to her. She can say she is sad and worried, but now that they are so close and he is so sick she can’t bring herself to bemoan how lost she thought she was ten minutes ago. The Kensa who had stood out on the ice seemed very childish now. She takes a deep breath, fills her lungs and looks at him--topaz eyes mirror topaz eyes--and then steps close again, shoulder to shoulder. “Come now Lion-man. Let's find a place to rest.”
She cannot go on not touching him, thinking that it’s going to keep her from getting sick. She’d let the plague take her if it meant she could feel his lips against her neck even once more. How she hopes he feels that too, understands that she cannot keep away from him. “Come on…” She says again, gentle, her softness an apology for her earlier frustration with him.
The pick their way through snow and trees, talking softly and trying to choose a spot to rest. It suddenly feels important to find just the right place. Somewhere that they haven’t been before, somewhere that feels right, safe, theirs. A settling place. They climb into the mountains above the lake, through the mixed forest and over the rocky winding paths until they break into a small valley where the mountain folds into nook of sorts, snow covered now but a little pawing reveals yellowed grass and clover. “What do you think?” She ask, knowing he must be ready to stop and rest, thinking they need to stop searching and let him rest. “There’s water. Too bad it isn’t spring, that’s a plum.” She says first of a small creek--its falls dripping but frozen on the rocks at the back of the clearing--and then of a scraggly naked tree with freckled branches. She’d like to look around here some more, but perhaps Litotes is too tired, so she does not say so.
@[litotes] @[The Plague] Can I get another plague roll one Kensa pretty please? :3
