For one brief, terrible, moment, there is nothing between them but thick silence and she stares at the ground as if she could disappear into it, beneath it, be swallowed up by the loamy soil of Beqanna's old-growth forest, but for all that Beryl has a particular talent for digging holes for herself, this is not where the strength of her magic lies. She refuses to look at him, the taste of his blood still fills her mouth with a metallic tang, the bright red of if still colors her hooves where claws had been. A stiff black hair stuck between her teeth stings her tongue and is the only thing that keeps her from dissociating entirely.
Everything about her body feels too heavy. Dark walls pulse thick around them, belying the exhaustion the ripples across her skin and tunnels into her brain like weevils.
And she's so tired.
What have you done? She can't bear to look up at him, and the blood that must be staining his shining coat. She can't bear to let go of the walls that are keeping him trapped, that will let in the light and the world that she would rather escape, and instead, she stares; at the ground, at his feet, at the shimmering stars running down her forearm. And @[Cassian]?
He laughs
Perhaps he's right to do it, the shock of being alive, of being whole and relatively unharmed when moments ago a lioness held all the threads of his life between her teeth and her claws. Perhaps laughing is the only reaction left, but it shatters the last of her grip and the shadowy walls melt back into the forest. Her muzzle jerks up, startled, coffee-brown eye ripping loose of the earth to find his, to find the bleeding grooves left behind by his teeth, and to burn with the shame of it. As fast as she finds his gaze, she turns away.
"You should go."
She's so tired of always being sorry.
Everything about her body feels too heavy. Dark walls pulse thick around them, belying the exhaustion the ripples across her skin and tunnels into her brain like weevils.
And she's so tired.
What have you done? She can't bear to look up at him, and the blood that must be staining his shining coat. She can't bear to let go of the walls that are keeping him trapped, that will let in the light and the world that she would rather escape, and instead, she stares; at the ground, at his feet, at the shimmering stars running down her forearm. And @[Cassian]?
He laughs
Perhaps he's right to do it, the shock of being alive, of being whole and relatively unharmed when moments ago a lioness held all the threads of his life between her teeth and her claws. Perhaps laughing is the only reaction left, but it shatters the last of her grip and the shadowy walls melt back into the forest. Her muzzle jerks up, startled, coffee-brown eye ripping loose of the earth to find his, to find the bleeding grooves left behind by his teeth, and to burn with the shame of it. As fast as she finds his gaze, she turns away.
"You should go."
She's so tired of always being sorry.