you always loved the strange birds; adaline

[contagion]

It is their fate, perhaps to be damned – born of romantics of the worst kind (the dead risen and the dying, both heartsick, both fated for each other in the ways of poets, in the ways of love too-consuming to exist), of course such sludge exists in his veins.
He never knew their parents but he knew of them, of how Tabytha walked out of the sea and then back into it while Garbage followed.
(He knows how they sank, gave in. He saw that much, newborn and frail, pressed against Adaline.)

“Yes,” he says, though he still feels dazed, filled with the words unspoken, and he wonders if he can even find his way back.
(He’s aware, in some faint way, that bringing glass into the wolf-girl’s land could surely been foolhardy, but he, like his father, is blind to such things.)
He walks, but does not lead – instead he stays beside her, almost touching. He can feel the heat radiating from her as they walk in silence, and in that silence he replays the words, the way she says his name.

contagion

be careful making wishes in the dark

(so they can go in the falls and I think sin should post tyrna there too and she can wolf out on him because ANGST)