11-11-2021, 03:07 PM
The sob that follows his touch against her shoulder is unexpected, and Malik’s eyes widen. He doesn’t pull away though, not while her eyes remain closed. Malik convinces himself he’s being helpful, providing comfortat least until her eyes snap open again.
Then, he does pull away, the pair of them expanding the distance that separates them until it is wider than before. He had still been thinking of how to sneak Myrna from Hyaline under their mother’s watchful gaze, and she snaps back that she doesn’t want to see Myrna at all.
Then she’s yelling and crying, the combination a rather alarming one. Malik’s bicolored eyes grow wider still, his uncertain ears flicking. She asks rapid questions, and while the first one has several potential answers, Malik feels uncomfortably sure that the answer to the last one might be a simple: Yes.
Though the memories that have returned paint their father in a different light, Mazikeen is still the same. Well, the same as she’s been since Myrna, which is to say: less violent and occasionally more sad, but still his mother. Could she have forgotten Sickle? Malik thinks of the way she cares for his sister, the way he has caught her looking at him (worried), and how the smell of blood is far less dense in the mountain air than it had been during his childhood.
“Maybe he made us all forget,” Malik says softly. But why? Why keep him, and not his more talented sister? Shouldn’t he have been the one left in Tephra, the one who had searched for his missing twin? He frowns, imagining how that must feel, and decides he does not envy Sickle in the slightest. Not even for her shifting.
“I didn’t mean to,” he continues, his voice quiet even as her eyes grow hard. “To forget you, I mean.”
@Sickle
Then, he does pull away, the pair of them expanding the distance that separates them until it is wider than before. He had still been thinking of how to sneak Myrna from Hyaline under their mother’s watchful gaze, and she snaps back that she doesn’t want to see Myrna at all.
Then she’s yelling and crying, the combination a rather alarming one. Malik’s bicolored eyes grow wider still, his uncertain ears flicking. She asks rapid questions, and while the first one has several potential answers, Malik feels uncomfortably sure that the answer to the last one might be a simple: Yes.
Though the memories that have returned paint their father in a different light, Mazikeen is still the same. Well, the same as she’s been since Myrna, which is to say: less violent and occasionally more sad, but still his mother. Could she have forgotten Sickle? Malik thinks of the way she cares for his sister, the way he has caught her looking at him (worried), and how the smell of blood is far less dense in the mountain air than it had been during his childhood.
“Maybe he made us all forget,” Malik says softly. But why? Why keep him, and not his more talented sister? Shouldn’t he have been the one left in Tephra, the one who had searched for his missing twin? He frowns, imagining how that must feel, and decides he does not envy Sickle in the slightest. Not even for her shifting.
“I didn’t mean to,” he continues, his voice quiet even as her eyes grow hard. “To forget you, I mean.”
@Sickle