i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
It would be easy to assume Reave offers the comfort of his memories and steadier emotions for self-preservation. In a way, maybe they would even be right. But as the darkness presses heavily around them, swallowing her fear and panic, it is not self-preservation that is foremost in his thoughts. No, it is something much more insidious. Much more dangerous.
He likes her. He likes her well enough that he has come to find the sensation of those emotions against his skin distasteful. Not because of what they are, but because of who they resonate from. Her curiosity, her bravery, her joy - those had all been delightful to him. He’s a fool to grow attached when he knows too much about the cruelties of the world.
But emotion is never quite that simple, is it?
Though the guilt remains, flavoring her memories, the harsher emotions of moments earlier have dulled as she accepts his gift. And when she laughs, her shoulder bumping his, an answering grin grows on his own lips. “Probably,” he agrees, humor tempering the bluntness of the word. As she continues, Reave’s gaze also shifts to consider the egg gleaming in the nest of grass and glimmering gold. After a moment of quiet consideration, he steps forward. Dropping his head, he prods the egg gently until it rolls to the opposite curve of the nest.
To his surprise, he finds it already cool to the touch. Lifting his head, he shrugs. “Maybe it’s better that way.” He pauses, gaze slipping to the space occupied by his invisible golden companion. “The world is rarely a kind place.”
reave
@Israfel