cold in the violence after the war
hope is a fire to keep us warm
Lightning dances in wild, chaotic bursts overhead, lighting the small grove of trees in short, frantic washes of bright light. Brazen hardly pays the storm mind, entirely unafraid of the lightning and thunder. Perhaps she should be. But then, she had always lacked that sense of caution. That’s what she had Dagen for. His excess of caution more than balances her lack of it.
They were each their parent’s children, in a way.
As the spotted stranger appears through the trees, face curious despite the water dripping from it, Brazen steps forward to greet him boldly. “Hi!” she says brightly, her vibrant blue eyes inquisitive. Friendly. They match her mother’s in shade, and yet, somehow, are vastly different in appearance. Something to do with the girl behind them, no doubt.
Lips kicked upwards into a grin, she reaches out, touching the bridge of his nose curiously, though his question makes her quickly retreat. She blinks, her shoulder shivering unconsciously beneath the regard before she shifts her body, turning the bleeding shoulder away from him. Out of sight, out of mind, right? “I’m fine!” she replies. And if the cheeriness in her tone sounds a bit forced now, well, she chooses to ignore it.
After all, she’s not entirely sure a stranger would want to hear about the way her bones would all rupture through her skin soon. Her mom didn’t seem to mind it on her dad. But then, daddy had had time to grow into his.
“I’m Brazen,” she finally introduces, the smile quickly returning to her lips as she sets aside her worries. She’d had lots of practice at it by now. “It’s nice to meet you Alvorr,” she continues. “Are you trying to get out of the storm? Because there’s plenty of room here! I mean, it could be drier I suppose. But I wouldn’t mind the company.”
Brazen
