we build then we break, any

[Eila]

She survives because she is made visible.
                
When the earth is pulled down, she is there, in the thick of it.  When the monkeys screech and the hippos roar, she runs through the jungle as if it is coming alive, as if it is after her.  The vines loop around her ankles.  The thorns pull at her hair, tear out bits of her tail.  It would be fine to run.  It would be fine to be a coward and leave the Sisters behind in order to save herself.  But somewhere along her guiltless path, Eila becomes visible.  She knows, because someone cries out.  And it is the exact tune of their cry that freezes her in place.  They aren’t surprised by her sudden appearance in the middle of chaos.  They say, “look out!”  And she does.  Eila watches as an ancient kapok tree uproots itself in the hot air just in front of her.  The crash it makes is lessened by the loamy, jungle earth.
                
She survives, but the world goes black, anyway.
                
When she wakes on the Mountain with the wind whipping her patchy mane around her face, she is possibly the least surprised of all of them.
                
The forest becomes her sanctuary when she finds she cannot live on the slopes.  It calls to her at the cellular level.  The shadows become her cloak when she is left raw and exposed for the world to see.  Like a nerve, she feels the rush of electricity every time someone finds her.  She can’t escape their stares, can’t blink out of existence when her gift is no longer in reach.  But she pulls into the shadows every time instead.  Steps back until the stagger of trees becomes too thick to spot her through. 
                
It isn’t enough, but it has to be.
                
Winter brings a new set of challenges.  She has to adapt all over, but so much quicker than before, she does.  She is a pioneer at the edge of the wild, alone.  Blessedly alone.  She strips the bark from her guardian trees to survive.  She grows fat with contentment even as her body grows dangerously thin.  When the few horses come to her, she looks like a savage, all jutting hips and happy eyes.  Eila sees one of them poking into her space.  And for the first time in almost a year, she thinks maybe she won’t fade away.  She thinks maybe she’ll have them stay here, with her.  Maybe she’ll follow them instead.
                
“Hey you,” she says, her voice as soft as the snow that starts to flutter down between the branches above.  

Eila

[Uconn]

He had been gone when the world had uprooted itself, when the Tundra had shook and it’s caverns collapsed he had been blessedly absent. He regrets this deeply, though honestly what could he have done? He who had never been the pillar to bear the brunt of any weight, he who had been nothing but another body growing up in Beqanna’s bosom. He could not have done a thing, though the want to was present. He did find himself atop the mountain, upon returning home. Some odd source of magic drawing him near. The air was even too thin for him, he who’d grown up atop the frigid unforgiving peaks that adorned his icy homeland. The thinness of the air had driven him out, down into the bowels of Beqanna, deep within her Forest. He had always been a loner, intimidated by the idea of companionship, haunted by a sense of unworthiness that he could not seem to dodge no matter how he tried. He shied away from it, taking the easy way out instead of facing his shortcomings. So he is started when he comes upon someone as he wanders. She is gaunt, a wisp of flesh stretched over a ghostly skeleton with eyes too big for her face and beaming with something he cannot place. It’s a wildness he isn’t familiar with. His first instinct is to turn tail and walk away, but something holds him there, a foolish sort of curiosity that keeps his gaze trained on her though he comes no closer. He muses on her for a while, trying to figure out where she fit in this strange world. Contemplating what her background could’ve been before the world went to shit. He comes up blank, drawing only assumptions, and too quiet to simply approach and ask her himself. So he turns, ready to leave as her eyes snap toward him, senses suddenly alert and locked on him. He freezes as her voice calls out, wings tucking tightly to his sides as the desire to simply disappear rears its ugly head. He sighs, closing his eyes and steeling himself knowing that he’d been caught. He flicks a dark ear in her direction, light eyes reaching  back to find her gaunt face.  ”Yes…..me.” he offers, trying to hide his chagrin. He contemplates adding his name, but holds off. He’d met more than one monster in the woods, and though this woman looks only lost and starving, he’d rather play it safe, than turn out sorry later. ”Are you okay? he asks stupidly, unable to ignore her physical state. Even in the Tundra, he’d never fared so poorly. His coat had always been thick, his body healthy. Quite the opposite from the waif of a woman he looked upon now.