06-25-2021, 07:25 PM
How could she thank him? The striped stallion leans into her cheek, nearly humming with anxious thought. She doesn't need to thank him, no. This is his duty now. Keeping a light on for those that might not have one. It comes so easily to him that the thought of a payment never even crossed his mind.
Kismet, he thinks. Is this kismet?
"You can thank me by staying alive," Orville answers with a soft, hopeful smile. His eyes close and he thinks how wonderful it would be if there were some strange dream. That he and Basilica know each other in a different reality, that her bleeding chest and quiet delusion are nightmares he can simply snap awake from. How lovely it'd be, to know who she is outside of these short, crucial minutes.
That resolves him: to know her now and tomorrow, to stay awake even as she falls asleep so as to keep her safe. Such resolution is foreign to Orville; it consumes him quickly, stirs his veins with electric energy even as Basilica falls asleep at his side.
Kismet, he thinks. Is this kismet?
"You can thank me by staying alive," Orville answers with a soft, hopeful smile. His eyes close and he thinks how wonderful it would be if there were some strange dream. That he and Basilica know each other in a different reality, that her bleeding chest and quiet delusion are nightmares he can simply snap awake from. How lovely it'd be, to know who she is outside of these short, crucial minutes.
That resolves him: to know her now and tomorrow, to stay awake even as she falls asleep so as to keep her safe. Such resolution is foreign to Orville; it consumes him quickly, stirs his veins with electric energy even as Basilica falls asleep at his side.
@basilica