01-08-2020, 08:48 PM
The Devil was evil, mad―but I was the devil's wife.
She will wonder, later, why fate choose to bring them together.
Why the angel materialized in front of her, blood dripping from her throat, and why Gail knew, so immediately, that she wanted her to stay. Before she even had time to draw the conscious conclusion, she was drawn to her. Perhaps it was the savagery of her wound, but more likely it was something else, something inscrutable, like recognizing like.
Or it’s as simple as her brand. Gail knows such artwork anywhere.
Regardless, she is quick to shield the mare, an uncharacteristic test of her strange mix of resistance and power to him. She doesn’t know if it will work, but suddenly knows she must try.
The angel says her name, and eyes flutter closed at Gail’s word. And then her valid question. Gail doesn’t know the specifics of their link, she knows only of its existence, could sense it about her. She doesn’t know how far it extends – perhaps he will possess Ryatah, and she will see those eyes fly open.
“Then be quiet,” she says, and then takes her own advice. It is still, here, and she can quiet it further behind this shield, until there is only the faintest sound of breathing. She holds her. She waits. She isn’t sure what she’s waiting for until she feels it – a shift in Ryatah’s form, sensed more then seen, and she knows he’s there.
A moment, and it’s gone. She has no doubt he’ll return, but thinks they have a short amount of time.
“He’s gone,” she says. She doesn’t know how much Ryatah sensed him – how much he made his presence known to her, in these violations.
“I’m sorry to keep you here,” she says, then laughs – as if she was a poor hostess. Which is she, perhaps. Holding her hostage, but only briefly. A small crime.
“It’s been emptier here, lately, and I’ve quite wanted to meet you.”
Gail
@[Ryatah]