it erupts like a volcano, then subsides.
And when it subsides, you have to make a decision.
She is far away when the lightning cracks across the sky, the thunderous noise startling her from her quiet reverie. Her russet gaze flies to the sky, clear only mere moments ago, now darkening with threatening clouds.
And then the emotions hit her, a tidal wave of grief and anger that nearly brings her to her knees. She recognizes the source immediately. She would know him anywhere. She does not hesitate, not this time. Turning in the direction those dark emotions are emanating from, she launches herself into the air.
The fear is brief, in moments consumed by urgency. Her body knows exactly what to do, even if her mind might have resisted. And then she sees him, standing in a crater of his own making, swaying as though buffeted by a strong wind.
Weir is there already, concern barely discernible beneath the intense agony emanating from Tiphon. She lands next to the angel, her russet gaze filled with sorrow, with her own grief for Tiphon’s pain. She does not know yet the cause behind his grief, but she recognizes all too well the anguish he is feeling. The loss. She has felt it too many times herself.
She presses close, her small red body providing what comfort and support to him that she may. Her dark muzzle finds his neck, brushing his porcelain white coat with a soft touch even as a silent tear falls from sorrowful eyes.
“Tiphon…”
The word is whispered softly into his skin, but she cannot complete the sentence. Cannot find words that would not sound trite in the face of his loss. His whispered words, they are enough to tell her a terrible story. One that leaves her feeling heartsick for the man she loves.
You have to work out whether your roots
have so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.
Because this is what love is.