"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Despite the macabre conversation topic, a smile grows in Beyza’s pale eyes at the question about her bone collection. Her laughter is not exactly bright, but it is brighter than that shadowy hint of amusement coming from him. “Would it surprise you if I said yes?” She debates for a moment letting that be the impression of her that he keeps, but in the end she is honest. “But no. It’s just that many things have happened since and most of these woods look the same once you’re out of them for a while.” She had once known the exact spot, could feel the energy or maybe it was the ghost of the girl.
Could Maurtia have found her if Beyza had thought to bring her daughter? This didn’t seem exactly light a mother-daughter bonding moment.
But certainly good enough to share with a stranger. Her unblinking gaze watches him as he looks down to the bones on the ground, and her already-present curiosity increases at his response to her question. For a moment, she forgets her hunt and focuses entirely on him. For now, Beyza does not take the same care to remember to blink or breathe, to be anything other than utterly still.
The opportunity for her to pretend to be ordinary had disappeared when he had discovered the trail of unearthed bones, she’s pretty sure.
“What type of hunting doesn’t leave behind bones?”
