we are crooked souls trying to stay up straight
His heart breaks; it shatters. He knew it had to be this. It just made sense - Ellyse, gone. Offspring, gone. Why not take a few more on the wind? He suddenly, somehow, feels unsafe in his own home - as if the tight grip of death will soon strike again, to someone else, and he must somehow stop it. He is not sure when, but he had parted the waters with his broad chest, soaked his feathers in the warmth of the river, and came out on the other side nearest to her. He is no longer a regal and winged stallion with the wisest of looks on his face, but he is a broken man, grieving yet another loss of one of his closest friends.
Aurora has turned her lean body away from him, the ghost of her voice echoing in his mind and breaking his heart more impossibly so. For a moment he is strong - he stands beside her as the towering Overseer, a bold and regal representation of Tephra. He is meant to be a steadying presence for her, to comfort her in her time of need, and for a moment, he is successful. But, just for a fleeting second, he wavers - he blinks confusedly, his brow furrowing as the threat of heat in his eyes comes to the surface, his mouth turning downwards into an ugly frown. He ruffles his wings, as if trying to settle himself, but he is unable to do so.
Coupled with everything else, the news of Diable Rouge's death is is too much.
His legs buckle purposely, and the great king lowers himself into the golden grasses of his homeland. They are nearly above his head, swaying delicately in the Tephran breeze. Once there, he rests his chin on his chest, folding his wings against his sides, and feels the warmth of steady tears fleeing from his eyes.
Warrick
@[AuroraElis]