"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
She feels it when the gap between them closes, that tense and consuming awareness mixed with every single thought in her head turning to white noise. It’s not the same as when she loses grip on her anger but it feels as though she’s dancing along the edge of that moment. The same feeling had come over her the last time she was here, and she wishes she didn’t remember every time they drew close so vividly. Her entire focus is on Gale and she does not miss the dazed look. Not, she thinks, a result of her presence but of his attention - his vision - being somewhere else entirely.
Her nostrils flare and her ears flatten in annoyance, and this feeling brings her out of her own fog.
And yet her breath catches just a little at that first contact, the gentle but firm push.
How she can feel his voice in her shoulder.
She wishes he had just attacked her outright instead of this.
She holds her breath after that catch, annoyed with herself, and when he takes another step she pushes back. Mazikeen wishes for claws that she could use to dig into the sand but it is a fleeting thought now - she doesn’t need them. There’s strength in this body and she locks her joints and refuses to yield ground. Refuses to be bullied into the ocean. She’s not really too sure why she’s pressing back on this so much. Leaving had always been part of the plan (it was just more complicated at the moment than she originally intended). But she would come back after she left, and perhaps that was it? The desire to not have to have this conversation every single time.
His suggestion of how to leave is met with a nonchalant shrug though she finds she needs to focus on remembering how to breathe before she can reply in a quiet voice. “It’ll be swimming with monsters for me, but that’s no bother.” Mazikeen wishes her voice sounded more sure, but the vault where she’s been shoving everything she does not want to deal with is starting to crack. The idea of being overcome by a monster while swimming towards a shore she cannot see, the idea of a death where she cannot even defend herself or fight to the end, is absolutely terrifying. So she moves on. “Those wings of mine gave up on me as soon as…” But Mazikeen shakes her head and cuts this thought off, reminding herself how futile it is to explain how the sight of Islandres had affected her so intensely that she had crashed into the ocean because of it. “Well. They aren’t very reliable yet.” As if in protest of this fact, they return - cool shadows curling at her sides matching the inky darkness of her markings.
But she doesn’t look at them - her gaze is fixed on Gale and she's thinking about anything and everything except for how close they are standing to one another. She feels certain she can see the moment when he is actually seeing her again like a fog has cleared. Maze greets him with a scowl. “Why should I do you a favour by leaving when you so rarely do me the simple courtesy of actually looking at me.” Because she remembers how it had been in Hyaline, too, and how it had felt like a confirmation that she wasn't even worth the effort of a glance without her shifting. Her voice is still quiet when she continues and it is filled with the emotions beginning to unravel out of her control - the pain and anger most of all. “What exactly are you avoiding when you take your vision elsewhere, Gale?”
Gale this is going to break me clean in two -- this is going to bring me close to you
Gale tries to imagine watching the morning sun rise in Loess, when the cast of the sky is a soft pale pink. He cannot recall the way the air had tasted (fresh and cold, the last bit of winter not yet driven out by the spring winds) or the sounds (a distant kookaburra and the wind in the trees and along the red rocks). But it is a pretty sight even without those memories, one that has always been able to hold his attention and prevent distractions. He still thinks it could, but his trouble now is looking there, when his eyes and attention are on Mazikeen.
The brindle stallion’s valiant effort to be a statue wavers in the face of Mazikeen’s scowl. Why can’t she just kick him, like in a real fight? That at least he would know how to counter, instead of scrabbling for a reply to her accusation and coming up with nothing. She isn’t wrong (he does try to look at other things), but he’s visibly startled by the question of what he is avoiding.
“I thought they had a lake in Hyaline.” He replies, and though his tone is sharp, the image that he sends with it is not.
It’s Mazikeen, as Gale sees her. Which is mostly as she is in front of him now, though there is somehow also fire and lightning and the image of the world around her moves as though she is the center of all its gravity. He feels oddly exposed in sharing it, having never done such a thing before, but it had felt like the right thing to do in the moment, to show her what she asked. The image is what he has been trying to avoid seeing though, and he releases it fairly quickly. That serves only to remind him of where he is truly standing, which is still leaning against Mazikeen and she pushes back against him.
“You are the most frustrating creature I have ever met.” he tells her, and though the words are gruff and his eyes narrowed, he is more baffled than angry. Why can she not just do as he says, and leave him alone? Why does she insist on staying when he has asked her to leave?
The mention of Hyaline’s lake is so confusing and annoying that the vision Gale shares with those sharp words blindsides her. The shadow wings that had been curling at Mazikeen’s sides vanish at her sharp intake of breath, eyes widening slightly as she takes in what he shares with her. It’s her, but... more. Everything she wants to be, everything she fears she isn’t. The opposite of what she had assumed he saw her as. Fierce and beautiful, wreathed in fire and lightning. And then she sees how the world spins around her, how she is the centre of it all. Disbelief mixes with a flush of terror.
Terror because of the intensity of this vision, what it might mean, and the uncertainty that waivers in her thundering heart because of it. Is really this how Gale sees her, thinks of her, or is it a trick - playing on her emotions to get her to leave? Both options have such a heavy weight to them. Mazikeen doesn’t understand the scope of his vision magic any more than she understands what to expect from the curse - but if there was a time to quiz him for answers, it is not now.
The vision doesn’t linger for long and when it fades, Mazikeen doesn’t have words. She can barely string together a coherent thought. A very faint tremble passes through her body and she doesn’t have the presence of mind to worry over if he can feel it. With her gaze refocused on his, she manages a small nod, as though she gets it - as though she understands - even though she feels nothing but doubt. She wonders about the correct response for what had just been shared with her and her instinct is to touch him, something kinder than the press and push of their chest and shoulder.
Gale speaks before she is able to decide what to do. His gruff words are hardly a compliment but they make her smile anyway. A true smile that causes her orange eyes to dance just a little. “On that, we can agree.”
She steps back then - not much, just enough so there’s a single stride between them. It doesn’t bother her as much as it normally would, this yielding of ground. It is such a small thing in the scope of everything else and a small kindness in exchange for what he shared with her. Probably made even smaller by the words she’s about to say while her attention remains on his face like she’s memorizing every hair. “If you’ll be so kind as to point out which direction I should start swimming in, I’ll leave... but I’ll be back. And I’m going to keep coming back to check on you. Once I visit the mountain I can return in disguise so you don’t have to see me or even know I’m here but…”
Here she inhales to steady herself as she’s washed over with a strong desire to look away. But she cannot share with him her thoughts so she has to let them shine in her eyes - every damning emotion that is spinning like a cyclone within her, not a single one is hidden. Determination, concern, confusion, affection, fear, and above them all (though she doesn’t understand it) - hope. And in return, she’ll face his disappointment, annoyance, anger, whatever he has to throw at her for being such a stubborn fool. They just agreed she's frustrating - this is hardly the time to go and contradict that now.
Gale this is going to break me clean in two -- this is going to bring me close to you
Mazikeen is quiet after the vision he shares, but Gale does not look away. He sees – though mostly feels – the way she shakes, as though the image of herself is not what she had expected, watches the way her still-damp mane shivers for just a moment, before she finally breaks the stillness after his words with a smile.
It looks like a real smile, or enough like one that he doesn’t assume her step back was to provide better momentum for an attack. Had the vision made such a difference, he wonders? Had being able to see herself the way he does truly done more to convince her than his words?
That might make sense, Gale decides; he has been told before that he talks more than the parrots and is sometimes even less intelligible.
The brief moment of relief – that she has understood, that she is leaving – does not last long at all. She adds contingencies to her departure, and Gale shakes his blue head (because of course Mazikeen would require caveats) with the barest hint of a smile.
Her idea of disguises is not one he’d considered, and while it is not as safe as leaving him alone entirely, it does sound at least a little less dangerous. He is quiet for a while, but his blue eyes do not leave Maizkeen’s. At last, he concedes with a nod of his head. That will work, he tells her, and she stay until her fickle wings return. He wants her safe, yet as he has weighed her suggestion he’d weighed his own mood as well. He is fairly sure he’s not feeling Cursed yet, so what he wants to ask is surely his own thought, and not that of another.
“Would you let me know when you’ve been here?” He asks, “Leave me a sign?” He’s not sure it is a good idea, but the prospect of being able to know that Mazikeen is safe and well enough to check on him seems a brighter light in the darkness than even the burning pyre in Nerine.
Mazikeen would risk the swim, especially if she were angry enough that the fear wasn’t forefront in her mind. She’d never been particularly good at letting something she was afraid of keep her from doing anything - even if that fear was completely logical and would keep her safe. Still, she appreciates the acceptance of her disguise plan and tries not to have ungrateful thoughts about him tolerating her presence here long enough for her wings to decide they want to work.
His request for a sign of her visits does absolutely nothing to calm her heart or ease any of the confusion in her mind. How can it possibly frustrate her, hurt her, and make her want to smile all at the same time?
Mazikeen doesn't bother to guard her expression against letting these emotions flicker through her eyes - she's not sure she could if she wanted to since her mind is still reeling from the vision he shared. But she focuses on that last impulse, agreeing to Gale's words with a small nod and the ghost of a smile. An idea comes to her without much effort, one that she thinks will mean something to them both. “I could leave a white osprey feather? It’s always been my favourite form to fly in.” She can’t remember if she’s told him that little detail - if he knew why seeing him turn into one had packed such a punch (or why meeting Erne had been such a delight, or why she had so quickly recognized the black wings he wore for a time). It had been true before she ever met him, though even Mazikeen’s stubborn denial cannot refuse the fact that she’s since learned a few more reasons to favour that raptor above others.
She still finds it annoying how it took no effort at all to grow fond of him.
Her purpose for this visit settled, Mazikeen is at a loss for how to say goodbye and shifts a little where she stands. There’s that horrifyingly strong desire to reach out (this could be the last semi-pleasant exchange they ever have, after all, though she hopes not). But she’s far too uncertain to give in to such fancies. The ground still feels like it could slip out from under her at any minute if she makes the wrong move again. Even though they’ve reached something of an understanding, there’s too much doubt lingering in her as she looks at him.
No, to bridge the gap between them on her own would surely be as selfish as he accused her of being. It is better instead to try to get him to be the one to turn and leave this area first so she won’t have the chance to act on these impulses and risk making him uncomfortable again. To let him set the boundaries for how they part (since she didn't exactly accept much negotiation on anything else...).
“I… um, will need to be alone for my wings to cooperate long enough to at least take-off.” She looks away then, back down the beach where she had come - thinking about how keeping to the waves had erased her trail and definitely not thinking about her next quiet words or Gale in her periphery. “You’re too distracting.” There is a slight tug of a smile on her mouth again because even though she’s not thinking about it, she does manage to register some of the irony of this request.
It is so easy to lose himself while watching her, to forget everything in the world except the bright-eyed warrior in front of him. She has new scars, ones that are more recent than those inflicted during her battle with the monster on Islandres, and Gale finds himself wondering at the violence she’d faced since her departure. Has it been more than usual, he wonders, with her trapped in a single shape? He knows that Hyaline does not allow non-shifters, and though he longs to ask how she has been received in her equine shape, Gale forces the question back.
He needs to put distance between them. Knowing more - making her aware he cares enough to want to know more - will only make that more difficult. Even if Breach and her Pack were foolish enough to exclude Mazikeen without her shifting, Gale is very certain the white mare will rectify the situation herself.
After asking for a sign, his blue gaze remains on her face, and he tries to read the flurry of emotions that cross her face. It is like reading a message in a thundercloud, he thinks, or the bird bones on the beach. Witches might be able to interpret such things, or diplomats or magicians, but Gale is only truly sure that she is unsure. Yet she smiles, and offers to leave him a feather from his first shape, and then it is his turn to feel like a thundercloud, all roiled up inside with feelings like flashes of lightning
This is the last time he’ll see her, Gale realizes. Well, the last time he’ll see her and know that it is truly with his own eyes, and not those of the Cursed others. He wants to memorize every bit of her, from the way her pale lashes veiled fire-bright eyes to the way the scars along her ribs cause the hair to grow in whirls and lines that remind him of a frozen sea.
She shifts, neither toward him nor away, but it causes him to pair his gaze to Mazikeen’s only time to see her look toward the sea. He’s told her she can stay, but now she says she needs to be alone. The acceptance is more begrudging than he outwardly shows, but he has mostly accepted this unwelcome weight, and it shows in the way he offers her a bittersweet smile.
“I am glad to have known you, Mazikeen.” He says, and before the last of his courage fails him, presses a soft kiss and her cheek, then turns and disappears into the dark jungle.
Mazikeen had hoped he might stay for a little while longer.
She’s focusing on trying to tell herself that this is for the best when he speaks, and then she barely has time to register the words before he closes the gap between them and presses a kiss to her cheek. Her mind empties of thoughts.
Mazikeen leans just slightly into the touch, moving her head when it ends to cause the contact to linger just a little longer. The smallest of moments, not even a heartbeat long. It’s all she’ll allow herself to do - because she wants more. Wants to chase after him into the foliage and tell him she’s not ready to leave yet. She’s not ready for that to be their last goodbye before she makes good on her promise.
She might have, if she wasn’t so easily convinced these thoughts were selfish. She had told herself she’d let him set the stage for this farewell and he had - so she needed to honour that.
Mazikeen feels the ghost of that kiss the same way she had felt her muzzle twitch with the memory of his touch the last time she had visited this island. “I’m glad too.” She replies too late, when she’s standing on her own on the beach. Even though she’s not entirely sure if it’s true or not.
Sadness threatens to take over and drown her but she pulls at her anger instead. It’s not hard to do - she’s furious at herself, at the curse, at the eclipse, at her quest, and at Gale. There’s plenty of rage to go around so she lets it spread like a wildfire, eating away the tears and her thoughts. Burning up her hopes of what this visit could have been and turning her feelings to ash.
Anger feels so close to strength and it is easy now to call on the shadow wings. To bid them to take her across the sea and away from the place she most wants to be.
