01-15-2021, 03:39 PM
despite the overwhelming odds, tomorrow came
I would have heard him sooner, lumbering through the undergrowth of the forest, but he was using his intangibility move more quickly. So it is only when he reaches the clearing that my ears pick up the sound of his movement through my muffled sobs. I quickly snap my head up and around, and despite the darkness surrounding us, I know it is him, with his glowing mane and tail. Another sob wrenches itself from my throat, but this one is a sob of relief.
Without even thinking, I launch forward into his embrace, now sobbing hysterically into his shoulder. “Yanhua!” I gasp, between sobs. “Yanhua,” I say again, this time more softly as relief floods through my worn out body.
He sounds worried when he asks why I am crying and then inquires about Memorie. “Memorie is f-fine,” I manage to stammer, still trying to speak through the sobs. “I’ve been so incredibly worried about you!” I elaborate. “You…” I choke out, “you were on your way up the Mountain when the world went dark, and I had no way of knowing you were okay. And when you didn’t come home in the days following…” I couldn’t bring myself to voice the worries that had plagued me in the time he was away, mostly the worry that something terrible had befallen him. Instead, I shove myself closer still, feeling the need to be as close as possible to his comforting embrace.
Even if I hadn’t been alone in the Taigan woods when he’d went away and the sun went with him, I still would have been sick with worry. There would have been nothing that could stop that worry, because he had been well on his way up a steep and dangerous mountain when the darkness took hold of Beqanna. The only thing that would assuage those worries would have been having him and the rest of our unique little family here, safe and sound, or having someone who could give me concrete proof that all of them were safe and sound somewhere in the darkness.
Speaking of the rest of our family, my relief quickly turns back to worry. I pull back slightly, regretfully, bringing my head to rest gently against his. My breath blows warm against the crook of his neck where it met with his head. “Amarine? The twins?” I ask, both dreading and anxious for the answer. “Are they okay?” My worry had not been just for him and him alone. Amarine was my friend, and the twins had become just as much family as @[Yanhua] and Memorie. I pull back even further so I could look upon his face for the answer to my question.
Little did I know I was in for a proverbial punch to the gut, that the twins had not returned with him and Amarine.
Without even thinking, I launch forward into his embrace, now sobbing hysterically into his shoulder. “Yanhua!” I gasp, between sobs. “Yanhua,” I say again, this time more softly as relief floods through my worn out body.
He sounds worried when he asks why I am crying and then inquires about Memorie. “Memorie is f-fine,” I manage to stammer, still trying to speak through the sobs. “I’ve been so incredibly worried about you!” I elaborate. “You…” I choke out, “you were on your way up the Mountain when the world went dark, and I had no way of knowing you were okay. And when you didn’t come home in the days following…” I couldn’t bring myself to voice the worries that had plagued me in the time he was away, mostly the worry that something terrible had befallen him. Instead, I shove myself closer still, feeling the need to be as close as possible to his comforting embrace.
Even if I hadn’t been alone in the Taigan woods when he’d went away and the sun went with him, I still would have been sick with worry. There would have been nothing that could stop that worry, because he had been well on his way up a steep and dangerous mountain when the darkness took hold of Beqanna. The only thing that would assuage those worries would have been having him and the rest of our unique little family here, safe and sound, or having someone who could give me concrete proof that all of them were safe and sound somewhere in the darkness.
Speaking of the rest of our family, my relief quickly turns back to worry. I pull back slightly, regretfully, bringing my head to rest gently against his. My breath blows warm against the crook of his neck where it met with his head. “Amarine? The twins?” I ask, both dreading and anxious for the answer. “Are they okay?” My worry had not been just for him and him alone. Amarine was my friend, and the twins had become just as much family as @[Yanhua] and Memorie. I pull back even further so I could look upon his face for the answer to my question.
Little did I know I was in for a proverbial punch to the gut, that the twins had not returned with him and Amarine.
borderline
