I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
He is so fucking done with disasters striking the places he chooses to live. Not that there’s a damned thing he can do about it, but rage feels more productive that stewing impotently as he watches nature batter the volcanic island. When it finally subsides, by some miracle, he has been left untouched. He certainly hadn’t bothered trying to hide from or dodge nature’s fury, yet it hadn’t seen fit to strike him down for his hubris.
If he were a superstitious creature, he might believe himself cursed. He has lived far too long to believe that kind of shit however. Instead he curses his rotten luck before spreading his wings and leaping into the sky.
When he sees a pale form below, he almost keeps flying. Almost. If he’d had any damned clue what was coming, he absolutely would have. Yet he drops from the sky, hating that he feels beholden to do so. Or perhaps more accurately, hating that he doesn’t hate the thought of having some sort of purpose again, even if it is with his own unacknowledged offspring. Hating the guilt he refuses to accept.
“You survived,” he grunts in greeting, his already gruff temperament made even more so by the turmoil of the storm. “And we’re not even swimming in the fucking sea.”
As far as bright sides go, he supposes there could be worse. Then, before anything more can be said, someone else appears, hollering Casimira’s name. The small figure races clumsily towards them as it dodges the newly abundant lava flows, causing Ashhal to grimace in distaste. Fucking great, more company.
