How could she possibly ever explain to him the depth of her fear as the war hit Tephra?
How could she possibly begin to explain how she everything that she has come to love so dearly fall between her fingers. How she had nearly lost her son and daughters. How she had nearly lost him. It had driven her nearly mad—the screams of those in the war (both out loud and in their head) coupled with her own internal fear. It had nearly taken her to the edge and she had thought about leaving.
It was easier to cut ties herself than risk having them severed.
It was just easier to not care at all then care so much and be crushed with the loss.
But, eventually, she settles. Fox protects them. They are safe. They even have new life. It is enough and she does her best to hide the nightmares that plague her at night. She does her best to pretend that she does not wake in a cold sweat after dreaming of complete darkness or the way that the volcano looked when it was spitting fire up into the sky, when it was raining down on the place they made their home.
Today, her children are off on their own adventures, and she does her best to pretend that she is not worried. That she does not dream of the time when war will come again and she won’t be near them. It is only when he comes over, kissing her nose and smiling down at her that she relaxes even a little, her dual-colored eyes softening and hiding the bruises that rest just beneath the surface of them.
“I suppose I could be talked into it,” she smiles at him, feeling safer next to him than she has in weeks.
- lynx -
love brought weight to this heart of mine
@[Fox]