— I'm not here looking for absolution —
Stave had not expected to bring life into this world—not when so much of his life had been spent removing it. It was a strange sensation, the antithesis of his entire being, but he does not find that he overly regrets it. Instead, like so much in his life, he finds that it washes over him and leaves him relatively unscathed. It is only when the months have passed and he has discovered that the little ones have entered this world that his curiosity peaks. He heard rumors of Ghaul handing over the Cove to Gospel and while he is loath to leave Pangea, he does finally tear himself away for the day.
He walks quickly, his legs eating up the distance between the kingdoms. It’s dawn when he finally arrives and while he usually does his best to never see the sunrise, even he has to admit that the gentle light washing across the kingdom is not entirely unpleasant. He sniffs lightly, almost dismissive, before he casts his dark gaze over the rest of the kingdom. The pair of them catch his eye quickly and he stands still for a moment, watching as the pair of serpentine stars wrap around one another in the early morning.
He feels no great sense of paternal pride, no rush of love, but he does feel curiosity.
Tilting his head, his dark eyes consider them and then move to the horizon. Gospel is out there, he knows, and he looks forward to finding her once more. Perhaps they will resume their usual dance of life and death. Perhaps he will finally bleed the rest of it out of her while their children watch.
His lips purse in thought, a rush of adrenaline at the thought of it, before he focuses again on the children.
He reaches his gift into the ground for a moment, rooting through the soil and the roots until he finds what he is looking for. None so gently, he begins to pour the powers into it until the skeleton of the small deer. It was young when it passed, but bordering on adolescence. Still, it was fresh enough that the bones were all intact. It erupts from the soil in one swift motion, shaking the dirt from the bleached ivory of its skeleton. He smiles at it before jerking his head toward the twins. Without hesitation, the deer begins to run over there, rattling as it does. Finally, something of a smile tilts Stave’s lips.
His version of a present, he supposes.
