-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
The only thing she’s mistaken about is his ability to be involved.
Had he even wanted her to be happy? Or had he always looked at her like this, with disappointment that she couldn’t be the person he wanted her to be? Ischia makes her happy, he makes her happy.
Perhaps she asked too much without ever really asking.
“I will always love you…” He says, though it sounds like a goodbye she’s not been smart enough to craft herself. A crown of thorns? She’s leaving him? Canaan is eager, all too eager, to take up a pen and write her story with his own hand. But he cannot take the final say from her, so she hammers the nail with a force he’s never been able wield, with a strength that has always been lacking in him.
“Thank you for the life and love you’ve shared with me, these many years.” Circinae tells him, donning that thorny crest he hated so much in order to give a command he’s sure to love. She’d held him too close, wanted him to be near when clearly he longs to be far, far from her. “Ischia has never asked you to stay, only I have. And I won’t ask it any longer of you.” The pied mare speaks.
Now, she does shift. Digging cleft toes into soft sand suits her, so with the stiff flick of her tail she draws back the sword and swings it in a clear, precise arc, (a clean cut, only felt when the hour is too late to stop the bleeding) “You’re welcome to come and go as you like, since Jah-Lilah remains. I would not seek to keep a father from his child.”
And then she turns away, forever.
Circinae
@[Canaan]