It had been a very near thing, his death. He hadn’t been prepared for the world to crash so suddenly around his ears into a watery grave. Though his training with Malik had given him endurance, had moderately improved his ability to shift, the violence of his near-death had proven just how weak he had still been.
He hadn’t been sure he would ever fully rid the sea from his lungs when he had finally washed to shore some untold time later. His lungs had burned for days afterwards, and no matter how he coughed, it had still felt like the ocean was trying to rise from inside his chest to claim him once more. It wasn’t until he had been at his weakest, when he was certain death would claim him, that the phoenix had risen to burn the illness away. That moment of surrender had been the moment he had truly found his freedom.
The moment he had finally accepted all the parts of himself was the moment he left fear and weakness behind.
So when Malik exclaims his disbelief, Vital tilts his head as something almost like madness lights his eyes. Abruptly, he shifts, leaving behind the familiar ember hues of the stallion he has become, the wide and wild grin on his lips matching his fire-bright gaze.
“For a time, so did I,” he replies easily, the lightness of his tone belying the darkness of the admission. “I never once doubted you would survive though.”
@
Malik