you pour the water —
Is it kinds for her to stay? Is it kindness for her to want to be there when the sun hits him and strikes him down? To hold him in a place of stone? She isn’t certain. There is an oily uncertainty in her belly that it is selfish and wrong for her—that she is staying for the wrong reasons. There there is a darkness in her that is drawn to such terrible things and that she has a gift for masking them behind a pretty smile.
But she is too weak to suss out the truth so quickly.
Too weak to face such demons just yet.
So she smiles at him and dips her head and follows his gaze to look at what captures his attention. When it lands back on her, she does her best to not fidget or shuffle her wings or try to draw his gaze anywhere else again. She just stands pinned beneath it, hoping that he doesn’t see more of her than she offers.
“I haven’t,” she answers and it is mostly honest—mostly the truth. She has wandered through much of the trees and shadows but it is usually when she is deep in thought. When she barely knows where her legs are taking her. She hadn’t been paying attention then and so she feels little guilt over this white lie.
She tips her head to the side in consideration.
“Would you show me? I’d like to see the good here.”
— I would haul the stones
