02-07-2021, 03:01 PM
give my all to watch you fall
She wants to dig her claws deeply into the topic of their children so that it cannot get away from them, so that she does not have to face what is next. Talking about Nekane and Volos is easy because she loves them more than she ever thought possible. Her love had been a fierce and hard thing chiseled and worn down every time she saw them, every time they looked at her with their wide, innocent eyes full of complete trust. Now, she can’t imagine her life without the twins tumbling and shouting and existing within it.
That’s not to say she knows what she is doing or that she is doing anything right along the way. Mostly, it is like fumbling around in this darkness, hoping to occasionally find a smooth stone on an otherwise rocky path. But they are worth the uncertainty. They are worth her feelings of inadequacy. They are worth her loss of freedom, even, for now.
Is this though? She continues staring at the man beside her, or at least the warm, vague space where she knows him to be. But she doesn’t have any more time to continue musing on that rapidly unspooling and unsettling thought before Halcyon brings up another that hasn’t yet occurred to her. Of course the twins could leave the island when they were older and ready, but time has seemed to speed up since the day they were born on the warm sands of paradise. Will she be ready herself when they leave the Ischian shores sooner rather than later? How is it even possible that that day is already approaching like the first dawn sunbeam on the ocean’s horizon? Titanya realizes she has no further words for him on this matter. None that will untangle the knot that forms at the back of her throat when she imagines the retreating forms of their children leaving with the morning’s low tide.
Besides, they have reached the rotten root of their rendezvous.
She feels his sudden tension like a live wire as she spills her secrets. They seem to echo like reverb back at her when they are met with the darkness. So, too, do her words seem somehow amplified when they find Hal. She should feel guilt, perhaps, should be moved by the almost physical push she feels after her words have left her lips. Instead, she feels herself drawing back and away from him. Why should she blame herself for what she has done? Why should she be sorry for reveling in the freedom he allowed and even encouraged in her? They do not belong to one another, as she tells him, so why does a small part of her ache with regret?
Titanya’s growl fades and disappears into the dense jungle foliage around them. She hears the tell-tale smack of his tail on the earth and tries her best to ignore it, to not let it fuel her words anymore when they come again. His voice is discordant to what he says. She closes her eyes at the sting of his tone but is surprised to find she is grateful, in all this mess. He proves his character to her yet again by agreeing to raise the child as his own. But where do they go from here?
“I don’t know how to do this,” she says. What she actually means is I’m sorry, but she doesn’t know how to apologize either. Like talking about the twins, it’s far easier to exist in her uncertainties than to admit fault; she’s still not sure she has anything to apologize for, anyway. “Any of this.” The tigress reaches out to bury her muzzle into his neck but stops herself short. There is still too much tension pushing her away like the two same poles of a magnet. She feels defeated in a way that is wholly unlike the battlefield. She finds she does not mind this loss, this vulnerability, nearly as much.
“Is this what you want, Hal? To tie yourself down to such a selfish, unruly creature? I don’t know how to change. No one has asked it of me before.”
That’s not to say she knows what she is doing or that she is doing anything right along the way. Mostly, it is like fumbling around in this darkness, hoping to occasionally find a smooth stone on an otherwise rocky path. But they are worth the uncertainty. They are worth her feelings of inadequacy. They are worth her loss of freedom, even, for now.
Is this though? She continues staring at the man beside her, or at least the warm, vague space where she knows him to be. But she doesn’t have any more time to continue musing on that rapidly unspooling and unsettling thought before Halcyon brings up another that hasn’t yet occurred to her. Of course the twins could leave the island when they were older and ready, but time has seemed to speed up since the day they were born on the warm sands of paradise. Will she be ready herself when they leave the Ischian shores sooner rather than later? How is it even possible that that day is already approaching like the first dawn sunbeam on the ocean’s horizon? Titanya realizes she has no further words for him on this matter. None that will untangle the knot that forms at the back of her throat when she imagines the retreating forms of their children leaving with the morning’s low tide.
Besides, they have reached the rotten root of their rendezvous.
She feels his sudden tension like a live wire as she spills her secrets. They seem to echo like reverb back at her when they are met with the darkness. So, too, do her words seem somehow amplified when they find Hal. She should feel guilt, perhaps, should be moved by the almost physical push she feels after her words have left her lips. Instead, she feels herself drawing back and away from him. Why should she blame herself for what she has done? Why should she be sorry for reveling in the freedom he allowed and even encouraged in her? They do not belong to one another, as she tells him, so why does a small part of her ache with regret?
Titanya’s growl fades and disappears into the dense jungle foliage around them. She hears the tell-tale smack of his tail on the earth and tries her best to ignore it, to not let it fuel her words anymore when they come again. His voice is discordant to what he says. She closes her eyes at the sting of his tone but is surprised to find she is grateful, in all this mess. He proves his character to her yet again by agreeing to raise the child as his own. But where do they go from here?
“I don’t know how to do this,” she says. What she actually means is I’m sorry, but she doesn’t know how to apologize either. Like talking about the twins, it’s far easier to exist in her uncertainties than to admit fault; she’s still not sure she has anything to apologize for, anyway. “Any of this.” The tigress reaches out to bury her muzzle into his neck but stops herself short. There is still too much tension pushing her away like the two same poles of a magnet. She feels defeated in a way that is wholly unlike the battlefield. She finds she does not mind this loss, this vulnerability, nearly as much.
“Is this what you want, Hal? To tie yourself down to such a selfish, unruly creature? I don’t know how to change. No one has asked it of me before.”
@[Halcyon]