but i can't let go, dovev.

[vulgaris]

VulgariS

take me, take me back to your bed. i love you so much that it hurts my head.
say, i don't mind you under my skin. oh, let the bad parts in, the bad parts in.

He’s exhausted but he’s driven to complete the tasks Leliana set out for him. He’d gotten her and Sabbath home safe, found Chaol all the way in Tephra, and confronted Shiya regarding the safety of his children. His eyelids are heavy but there is still one final duty before he can rest his tired head tonight. The moon hangs, full and glowing, in the empty night sky above him. It casts just enough light to find his way to the river as he seeks out Dovev. She won’t rest until they’re all safe, he knows, and he’s desperate to give her peace of mind.

He steps through the river and the cold is biting the moment it touches his skin, but he continues on. Vulgaris ignores the way his breath puffs in front of his face before disappearing into the cold night air. On a different night, it might have tied his stomach in knots to swallow his pride and find Dovev, to bring him home where his family slept at night. But today he is unusually humble, too emotionally and physically worn out to fight anymore. He’s as complacent as can be without realizing it.

His gray head lifts when he spots the bone-armored creature ahead. The moon washes him ink black and pristine white in its glow, while Vulgaris’s scales all glimmer along the curve of his spine with each step closer. His eyes blink, slow and heavy, as he comes to a stop in front of him. Water still drips from the feathering along his legs but he either doesn’t notice or just doesn’t care at this point.

“Leliana wants to know you’re safe. She said you protected her,” he says with a slight tilt of his head. “She’s resting in the Brilliant Pampas. Adna’s sister was born premature.” Although the winter chill and the sting of ice forming on his coat doesn’t seem to bother him, saying the last part out loud takes a toll on him. He frowns briefly, worrying as to whether or not Sabbath is managing to stay warm. But Noah is in good health and fully capable of helping the Loessians, he tries to remind himself. Still, his brows furrow into a worrisome expression.

“I don’t know if you have anywhere to go, but our borders are open to everyone.” Vulgaris watches Dovev then, looking over any wounds he might’ve gained from the massacre in Pangea. Maybe Noah could help him too, he thinks to himself. But he doesn’t want to overstep, knowing full well how he would respond to anyone offering to heal him. So he lets the silence settle in between them, each breathing little puffs into the night air.

@[Dovev]