jamie
02-08-2021, 12:28 PM
Jamie
He is one-track minded now.
He does not move aimlessly through the shadows now.
No, he moves with purpose.
He has not seen her since he accompanied her to the Mountain, trapped as she had been in that feline skin. He had made sure she made it there and then he had gone, confident that she was stronger than she knew. Their mother would not have made her weak.
He looks for her now because so much has changed. He moves through the crushing darkness shrouded in fog because the fog was the first thing that ever belonged to him and there had always been some comfort in the way the fog resembled his sister’s smoke.
His sister.
His beloved sister.
His strength in his time of tremendous weakness. His first companion. How important she had been to him in his youth, he thinks, how important she still is. There is some brutal aching in the cavern of his chest to think about how long it has been since he last saw her. There is no relief in the fact that he has been busy. Preoccupied.
He does not fear the things that move in the shadows because he is one of them. He does not think of them as monsters because he is no monster. He wonders what his sister thinks of them, if they remind her of him.
He can feel the fingers of his magic stretch out around him, reaching for her through the darkness, and he allows the magic to guide him. He surrenders to it, follows it wherever it takes him. Until he finds her.
“Liv,” he breathes, the same rattling sound it has always been despite all of the things that have changed. He reaches for her, his edges hardening so that he can bump his nose gently against her shoulder.
He does not move aimlessly through the shadows now.
No, he moves with purpose.
He has not seen her since he accompanied her to the Mountain, trapped as she had been in that feline skin. He had made sure she made it there and then he had gone, confident that she was stronger than she knew. Their mother would not have made her weak.
He looks for her now because so much has changed. He moves through the crushing darkness shrouded in fog because the fog was the first thing that ever belonged to him and there had always been some comfort in the way the fog resembled his sister’s smoke.
His sister.
His beloved sister.
His strength in his time of tremendous weakness. His first companion. How important she had been to him in his youth, he thinks, how important she still is. There is some brutal aching in the cavern of his chest to think about how long it has been since he last saw her. There is no relief in the fact that he has been busy. Preoccupied.
He does not fear the things that move in the shadows because he is one of them. He does not think of them as monsters because he is no monster. He wonders what his sister thinks of them, if they remind her of him.
He can feel the fingers of his magic stretch out around him, reaching for her through the darkness, and he allows the magic to guide him. He surrenders to it, follows it wherever it takes him. Until he finds her.
“Liv,” he breathes, the same rattling sound it has always been despite all of the things that have changed. He reaches for her, his edges hardening so that he can bump his nose gently against her shoulder.
( FROM THE DESTRUCTION, OUT OF THE FLAME
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
YOU NEED A VILLAIN, GIVE ME A NAME )
@[Livinia]