i am the mace, the map, the fall and the high
He can feel the moment her panic subsides into guilt, the memories of these last few minutes solidifying around her. Another of those pivotal instances. Another emotion that would forever be tied to his place and time. It should not please Reave to know it, to watch the way it settles. But Reave has never pretended to be anything but what he is. He would not pretend at grief he does not feel.
Perhaps it would have bothered him he hadn’t already seen death so many times before. If he hadn’t already felt death in the teeth and claws of monsters. In a way, the instantaneous death the bird had experienced is a mercy. She would have felt no pain. Probably wouldn’t even have known she was dying.
So he shares that with Israfel. It’s not often he shares his own emotions - his own memories - with another. He’s not even entirely sure why he does, other than that he feels almost compelled to do what he can to dispel her guilt. In that heartbeat of time, with them hip to shoulder in the dark, all the empathy he had failed to feel for the bird is given to her.
When her question stirs the stillness of the air around them, Reave peers curiously at the nest. After a moment, he lifts his gaze to the darkness, blue eyes fixing on the space where he knows her head would be. His lips twitch slightly as he replies with a wry question of his own, “Will you sit on it until it hatches?”
reave
@Israfel