Takei
His brother is growing up too quickly. Takei can see it among the lines of his face and the weight of his words. Although their parents did their damn best to protect, provide, and raise their children, there is no doubt that Trekori will grow up much the same as the rest. Takei’s heart aches for his brother, but he admits that there isn’t much he can do about it. He’s barely providing for himself as it is.
If Trekori had asked if they could live together, the assumptions would be true. The blood-and-bone wouldn’t know where to go. The only place he had ever felt he could call home was the island, and it was swept away by means he couldn’t understand. So he moves with the motion of the conversation, twisting his ears forward to catch his little brother’s response.
He isn’t surprised that Noori is having nightmares. Their mother has endured a lot in her past (in her childhood, in the times before Eight and Trekk and Sinder, in the times before Takei himself) and eventually it would catch up to her in one form or another. “Our mother’s gone through a lot of shit.” Takei’s voice isn’t stern or compassionate; he sounds as though he were stating a simple fact.
He’s sure it could be unnerving for the colt regardless, so he takes a few steps forward. Takei had originally intended to touch his brother in some sort of comforting way, but suddenly he realizes he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. So he stops just a few feet shy of touching Trekori, an uncomfortably confused look crossing his face.
The man eagerly jumps back into the rhythm of conversation before acknowledging the awkward moment. “They did. I didn’t think they’d get back together.” His eyes scan the terrain behind Trekori, wondering if his parents were somewhere in the background, watching from a distance. But that’s silly thinking and Takei gives his head and neck a rough shake to clear his mind. “I’m glad they’re doing better.”
If Trekori had asked if they could live together, the assumptions would be true. The blood-and-bone wouldn’t know where to go. The only place he had ever felt he could call home was the island, and it was swept away by means he couldn’t understand. So he moves with the motion of the conversation, twisting his ears forward to catch his little brother’s response.
He isn’t surprised that Noori is having nightmares. Their mother has endured a lot in her past (in her childhood, in the times before Eight and Trekk and Sinder, in the times before Takei himself) and eventually it would catch up to her in one form or another. “Our mother’s gone through a lot of shit.” Takei’s voice isn’t stern or compassionate; he sounds as though he were stating a simple fact.
He’s sure it could be unnerving for the colt regardless, so he takes a few steps forward. Takei had originally intended to touch his brother in some sort of comforting way, but suddenly he realizes he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. So he stops just a few feet shy of touching Trekori, an uncomfortably confused look crossing his face.
The man eagerly jumps back into the rhythm of conversation before acknowledging the awkward moment. “They did. I didn’t think they’d get back together.” His eyes scan the terrain behind Trekori, wondering if his parents were somewhere in the background, watching from a distance. But that’s silly thinking and Takei gives his head and neck a rough shake to clear his mind. “I’m glad they’re doing better.”
watch the mind run far away, way ahead of us