Set
11-05-2019, 11:54 PM
They come to him. Starlace, Starlace, Starlace, they chant, excited whispers on varied tongues. So inexplicably linked, they cannot help but know how he has yearned. For closure, for redemption, even he does not know. But now, now that she has returned, risen from the death and decay of the beach, seemingly robbed from the clutches of the afterlife … Shifting his weight, he swings his head east, pupils wide and dark. It is an alien feeling, this feeling of uncertainty, and he finds it rather displeasurable. She had been consumed by her affair with Infection - at least, that is how it had seemed to him, her favored, her prize until the spectral creature had stolen her attention and presence. The memories are sour, bitter on his tongue, and for several moments his youthful anguish overrides the hollow craving that has been a part of him for lifetimes.
He blinks, eyes shifting, focusing, and she is before him, his bloody-shouldered queen. Not a figment of his conjuring this time, she smells the same still, albeit tinged in the rotten, milky sweetness of death, but everything else is … different.
Set does not know how long he stares. Snow falls gently around them, dulling any sounds, and still he lingers in vague silence. Another blink, gold-colored eyes burning with exposure and questions, so many questions. A sudden suck of air, nostrils flaring wide then collapsing. Shifting hastily, he shakes out the dreads of his dark mane, teeth clacking in Stave’s general direction though his gaze does cease it’s quest to cling to hers.