makai
Makai is born again as the world bleeds out.
The rubble shakes and loosens and he crawls from the rock with soot on his flesh and ash in his hair. His eyes are wild, his nostrils flaring, and he feels the soil beneath him rumble with future promises. The chains that had so long wrapped around his heart, his throat, have loosened, fallen to the wayside. He does not feel the Chamber’s claws dig deep into him; he does not feel her whispered promises in his ears.
He does not mourn her, but he does not feel settled—he does not feel at peace.
The sky cracks above him, volatile and dangerous, and he finds that it matches his mood. She is not here. He was free, healed, but she is not here. He takes several quick stops, snorting, tossing his regal head to send the tangled locks of his mane flying around him. In this moment, he is dark and dangerous and every bit as chaotic as the sky that is simmering above him, the occasional snap sending an echo through his veins. She is not here, but she is close. He cam feel here. He would always feel her, and he would find her.
Makai takes several dancing steps to the side before catapulting forward, his pace eating up the earth in long, hungry strides. He had always loved to run; run from his problems, outrun his demons, run until he no longer could feel the teeth of his bad decisions nipping at his heels. But this time he was not running from. Rather, he was running to. As he streaks across the meadow, the sky makes good on its promises and splits open above him. It starts as a few drops and then quickly becomes torrential. The autumn shower is not sweet or gentle and he finds that it stokes the madness in his heart, the ache in his bones.
By the time that he finds her, he is beside himself. He is whipped into a frenzy and he barely slows before he collides into her side. The rain washes over them both, furious and painful, and he wants to laugh into the belly of the storm. Instead, he consumes her. He presses his mouth to the slick flesh of her neck and the salt of her is familiar on his tongue. He pulls her close and softly growls, the beast of him pacing against the cage. It had been so long since he felt uninhibited life pour through him like this.
It had been so long and here he was, standing with her on the crest of the new world order. Nothing mattered except the sharpness of her emerald eyes, the same wildness peering back out at him. Nothing mattered except the way the drum of her pulse fell in line with his own. Nothing mattered except this, here, now, and his smile turns wicked, the rain flattening his forelock. “Oksana,” the sound of it is almost primal on his tongue as lightening splits the heavens open above them. “I will always find you.”
you're the fire and the flood
and I'll always feel you in my blood
@[Oksana]