He does not like straying far from his brother, from his sister. It feels uncomfortable to be alone—not that he has anything to fear in the darkness truly—but to know that he has left them. Of them all, Altar is the most capable of taking care of herself, but that does not alleviate the guilt that he feels. A crushing weight. What if something was to happen to her? What if he was not there to stop it?
His throat closes up at the thought and he hurries, trying to remember why he had left at all.
There is a cloud behind him, somewhere he knows, because he can still feel the chill from the snow, but the darkness does a good enough job of hiding it. He can pretend it doesn’t exist and he finds that he prefers that. Prefers to pretend that he did not awaken from that strange dream with the monstrosity chasing him from dawn to desk. Prefers to pretend that something in him had shifted during the darkness.
His nose wrinkles in thought, head hurting from the process, when he hears the tune.
His head angles toward it and although he struggles to see in the darkness, he still plunges forward. His steps are heavy, clumsy, but he finally makes it toward the source of the noise, his dark eyes narrowing.
“Hello?” he calls, surprised by how low his voice has gotten over the months.
His steps pause as his ears pivot, trying to figure out if he can locate the humming girl.
If she wanted to be found at all.
turn your head toward the storm that’s surely coming along
@[rosemary]