[private] there's nowhere to run from the fire she breathes

[Mazikeen]

It’s not until it isn’t there that Mazikeen realizes part of her had expected anger. But not Firion’s anger, though he had shown some of that when they spoke last time. When he (rightfully) called her out for staying with Gale anyway despite what he had done. And to think that the eating of her heart had only been the beginning.

She'd been preparing for a far more brutal version of anger tonight. So she tries not to think about that, since it has no place between her and Firion, and instead focuses on the way her heart lights up to hear him ask if they should go find her daughter. How easily the plural of that question affects her. And how much she wants to ease away that frown that's taken over his expression.

First, instead of answering, she attempts to explain - though he hadn’t asked her to. “I just didn’t want it to be a surprise. I thought you might be... disappointed. Which would be fine. After all, I’m disappointed in myself.” She adds this last bit with a dry laugh before closing her eyes and inhaling a steadying breath. She wasn’t going to be able to give this a proper chance if she didn’t trust Firion not to run every time she admitted something to him. Or worse, but she did not believe he would hurt her the way she had become used to. Those fears are involuntary things that she smothers as best as she can. She was going to trust him wholeheartedly and she would not even entertain another option.

She thought walling herself off was strength, truly believed that there were some battles that she needed to fight all on her own, and she had been wrong. Even though her throat is raw from sobbing, even though this is a different type of terrifying, it feels right.

And when she opens her eyes again there’s a small smile in them. They should go, they should move from this spot even if she has no intention of leaving his side for as long as she can once they do.

But they don't need to move quite yet.

“We’ll go soon.” She reaches for him again, the soft skin of her muzzle seeking to brush against his own as she adds softly. “I’m becoming very fond of the word we.”

mazikeen