[private] the river coursing through us is dirty and deep

[magnus]

desire consumes me like a fire consumes me

He has not forgotten her; of course he hasn’t.

She is a memory that has stuck underneath his skin, something that breathed of the old Beqanna and all of his memories associated with it. So he doesn’t hesitate when he sees her coming up on the border. He doesn’t hesitate when he swings his heavy-jawed head in her direction, his gold-flecked eyes peering at her through the fog and the smoke and the haze. She is like a dream as he approaches, something that makes complete sense and yet none at all, something that dips in and out of reality.

When he finally gets close enough to make her out completely, the thickness of the air abating enough to see the gray flecking her muscle and the dark brown of her eyes, his handsome face grows warm. Her voice is not as dreamy as the rest of the atmosphere, something about it clipped and short, and it only serves to deepen his crooked smile, reminding him of the edge she had worn even in the field.

“North,” he repeats her name, his whiskey-voice wrapping around it lightly—part greeting, a part rebuttal that of course he had not forgotten her name. Still, he doesn’t defend himself in such ways, letting the glint in his eyes do the speaking for him. Instead, his gaze turns to the cat curled on the back, one ear flicking forward in the tangles of his mane. When she mentions her death, something in him tightens, something that makes him taste saltwater on the back of his tongue, the pressure of waves in his bones.

He shakes it from himself quickly, refusing to let the sticky fingers of his memories drag this down.

“I would have liked to find such a friend after my death,” he muses, the faraway look in his eyes clearing as he shakes his head, focusing on her more fully. “ I am not,” he says simply, “although I do not think that it will take me long to find it. I am not exactly quarantining myself to my home.” His lacerated lips curve upward, and he wonders if she will understand the drive that takes him outward, the need to see the other lands, to travel to the field, to check in on the other kingdoms. “How have you fared?”

good shouldn’t need to tempt us above

@[North]