so reckless you might start feeling; beth

[bethlehem]

I can get there on my own. you can leave me here alone.

There is a kind of darkness in his silence.
Or a gloom, perhaps.
It is thick and murky and there is that furrow in his brow and that set in his jaw.

He almost does not realize she’s stopped. It takes him a moment to catch on to her stillness and he is a few paces ahead when he finally stops, too. He turns to face her then, considers the expression. She looks alert, staring into the darkness that surrounds them.

He thinks she must smell her. He is oblivious to the shifting in her vision, the fact that she can see the two figures in the distance. He peers into the night and sees nothing at all but a yawning gulf staring back at him. His expression darkens but he says nothing, asks nothing of her, expects that she’ll tell him if there’s anything he needs to know.

And she does. Says, ‘this way’ and plunges into the forest. He follows as best he can, trailing as close as he can without clipping her heels because he knows he’ll lose her if he does not keep her close enough to feel.

He does not know what they’re running toward until they stop short in that clearing and there is his daughter, bloody and grinning, with another strange creature curled around her.

BETHLEHEM

I'm just tryin' to do what's right. oh, a man ain't a man unless he's fought the fight.