this house is rust and wreckage, holding on by just a hope
but I believe in dust and magic and every word you ever wrote
Some time had passed, a year to be exact. But she hadn’t forgotten him. Things had just gotten busy and Crynn had been uneasy and unable to let her out of his sight for long after their father had slipped from the picture. It had not been easy, but her brother was older now, easier, calmer, and more ready to let her slip from his sight now and again. It hadn’t been easy, not even with momma there. Crynn had attached himself to her tightly, and she was just now growing the ability to shake him free.
She had not forgotten him. Time had passed and she was older, longer in leg and taller in body. Leaner in the way that they all get before they fill out. It would happen soon, her body would fill in all the places that it should and she suddenly would no longer be a child. Or rather she feels like she is going to lose pieces of herself as she grows, as she takes on more responsibility. As she learns how to be an adult in this world instead of being young and carefree.
The plague that has plagued her her whole life hardly bothers her now, as she has grown used to it. Sometimes she coughs, sometimes it’s there when she realizes she has a bloody nose. But she had never contracted the more serious strands of it. Luck perhaps?
Anyways.
She finds herself in Taiga, the pine needles she crushes beneath her hooves giving off an aroma she finds soothing in its intensity. This was what had lingered along the edges of his coat. She expects to find him lingering alone, somewhere by himself. Probably amongst the shadows. So she manages to creep her way through the Forest until she finds him, managing to slip back whoever was in charge of patrols. Or maybe, they let her through, keeping a watchful eye on her from a distance.
Flying in would have been more useful, but she wanted to see all of it. So slipping through Hyaline and into Taiga had been it. She finds him, the smell of fire and smoke lingering in the air. She would still know him anywhere and she finds herself darkening, automatically coloring herself in to the gray and black he had liked. “Hello Cleave.” She doesn’t offer her apology yet, no, she waits for the bite, for the snarl of anger and pain to slip past his lips to bite her heart.
@[cleave]