resurrect the saint within the wretch
He can’t hear her thoughts, but he knows the determination that simmers quietly in Lilliana’s blue eyes - it’s familiar and he is nearly jealous of it. Long ago his own determination had withered into nothing, now just scraps in the cavern of his chest. For a moment he is motivated by the strength in the chestnut’s voice and he attempts to scrounge whatever is left but it is so brief as he realizes there is nothing to hold onto, only empty wishes that echo hollowly in his mind.
She offers him a bit more reprieve - he would not have to hold this anguish alone. Warden remains expressionless at this fact but accepts it with a gentle nod of his horned head, the blue opaled spirals sparkling in the light. It does not ease the burden any less - it is still a crushing weight that he struggles to breathe beneath, but there is some solace in the fact that she understood.
Does she know how much weight her words have? What is done, is done. They are solemn words but ones that ring true to this Night Watcher who sees no difference between the past and the future. His brows crease above his dark eyes, creating a shadow across the ivory of his ghostly face. There is so much truth in that phrase and he wonders if she knows that, or only is telling him in an attempt to soothe the pain that is so rampant between the two of them.
“I do not know when I’ll see you next, Lilliana,” he reminds her gently, his voice firm and unwavering, “though do not take offense when I say I do not look forward to it.” Sorrow turns his eyes glassy once again, knowing that the next time he sees this blue-eyed woman, death will have come hard and fast to her friend. He did not look forward to that revelation and, perhaps, as he grasps as a sliver of hope, he will not have to - if the future is as unsteady as she claims it to be.
He wonders if she’d be able to find him again when the time comes. But if he had known how her powers work, then he would realize that the sheer amount of emotion and guilt that pours through him so effortlessly, that there would not be any way she could not find him again. “Until then,” Warden gives her a deep nod that bows his head to his chest. His great, white wings unfurl in a single snap - the position she had found him in when their conversation began - and with a few strides, the Watcher takes to the velvet night skies in a swirl of smoke-tinged wind.
@[lilliana]
