[private] i set all my regrets on fire

[Gale]

@splendora

i hear the wicked get no rest, but when you do ---------- i hope you dream of me The first thing he notices is the way she moves - wounded. There’s a hesitation in her step, in the way she moves along the empty path between them. Gale reaches for her eyes out of habit, and finds nothing at all. So he draws his magics back and surveys her with his own brilliantly blue gaze instead. Her coat is a pattern he’s not seen before, and another iteration of himself would have wanted to keep it as a souvenir. Her eyes are green and glassy, and Gale reaches out again, but only to confirm that she was born entirely sightless. He considers letting her watch her impending death, but thinks perhaps sensory overload might interrupt his meal. Having been delivered such a defenseless dessert, Gale is not eager to waste it. He answers her first question with honesty, his voice almost amused: “Most of them have fled.” In the dim light of the jungle, she glows faintly as she reaches toward him, and he doesn’t move away, knowing how thickly the blood coats the part of his pale mane she reaches toward. Closer, he can taste her worry. He leans closer, so she might feel the warmth of his breath against her ear, and smell the blood on it when he answers her second query: “Very much so.” He’d been standing with Lyla just like this not a half hour earlier, Gale thinks. Will this blind woman plead like the blond had? GALE