you have forsaken all the love you've taken
sleeping on a razor there's nowhere left to fall
He does not travel from the cove often, but nothing can inspire him to move quite like Aurorae failing to return in what he deemed a timely fashion. He had granted what he considered to be a sizable grace period, but as the time stretched on, so did his nerves, until they were nothing but thin, fraying threads. He knew that he could not keep her tethered to this place – there is a sane (buried) part of him that would never wish that. He liked the wildness of her, loved that she was essentially living and breathing starlight, and though he could see her, he could never quite hold her.
But the sane part of him is often eclipsed by the mad part of him. The part that thinks he can own her as if anyone could ever own the night sky. He is a possessive, unreasonable creature, though, and the thought of someone else placing their mouth in all the same places as him was enough to drive him to insanity.
He paces the northern border of the territory as night bleeds into the early dawn, his jaw clenched until the bones ache and the muscles knot.
He lets his mind run rampant with worst-case scenarios, but only a few actually involve her well-being.
Convinced that she is not returning and that he would have to find her, he leaves.
He follows the shoreline, crossing water and trekking across rocky paths, while the sun continues to rise into the sky. By the time he reaches Nerine, the land is awash in the gray morning light. For a moment, the scent of the sea – somehow different here than it was at the cove, somehow wilder, relentless – distracts him from why he was here.
He hears waves crashing against unforgiving stone, and he hears skulls cracking beneath his hooves.
He turns just as the draconic boy approaches him. Though his surprise does not register on his face, he is once again reminded of how saturated with magic this new Beqanna is.
He should not be surprised, since the fire that lies in wait within his throat was not something he had been born with.
The boy states that he does not recognize him, and though Dacian fixes his gaze on his seemingly sightless face, he does not remark on how strange that sentence sounded. “Because we have never met,” he says in that low, nearly flat tone of his, a promise of smoke curling around the words.
But he mentions the east, and he glances across him again, searching for any kind of familiarity. He was not always the most observant in areas that did not concern Aurorae, but he thinks he would have noticed him, had he seen him before. “My name is Dacian,” he extends in an almost courteous way, at least by his standards. “I live in the east, actually. The cove, to be exact.”
There is a brief pause before he continues in a way that is almost curt, though really it is just the agitation of his situation creeping into the forefront of his mind. “I'm here because I am looking for someone. Her name is Aurorae.”
Dacian
your body's aching, every bone is breaking
nothing seems to shake it, it just keeps holding on
@[yadigar]