in every lost soul the bones of a miracle; amet

[Kensa]

for every tyrant, a tear for the vulnerable
in every lost soul, the bones of a miracle

Water beads off her liver-chestnut back as the Primarch wades closer to the shore. A smile comes to her face as Amet approaches the water’s edge. She is attentive,  though an ear flicks to catch the sound of a child’s voice echoing through the rolling alpine landscape.
“Yes. At least as long as it takes them to find me.” Her laughter skips across the water between them but it’s only a jest at her own expense. Her little ones are not so demanding, and growing faster than she is ready for.

“I am. Starting early seems to make the day last a little longer.” A day spent among the splendors of Hyaline could never be too long. “Yourself?” Kensa steps ashore and turns to face her counterpart politely. Once upon a time she would have been curious, bubbly, eager to ask him questions about himself and the history of her beloved home. Her features close briefly, gaze distant as she considers how eager she would have been to know Amet before…

“I’m sorry Amet. My thoughts tend to carry me off lately. Please, tell me about yourself.” Her features relax a little, and the interest behind the request is genuine. All too often Kensa no longer understands herself. When she attempts to reason out her heartache and anger she only digs a deeper trench. It feels good to be curious about something again, to be reaching out to someone without the intention of numbing herself. “You must be happy to be home.”

 

kensa

for every dreamer, a dream. we're unstoppable with something to believe in.

@[Amet]