[se] we come in waves

we're always running scared but holding knives

Shifting to get at least somewhat comfortable on the sand, Isla folds her legs beneath herself and tries to dust a bit of the debris from her clothes. It's a sorry attempt at composure, and the Remedy swallows hard as Remi begins. A letter from himself already has her eyes stinging, an invisible fist clenching in her chest to know that across the years and the seasons, Remi hadn't entirely abandoned their friendship after all.

Finding it suddenly hard to draw a breath, Isla blinks quickly and forces herself to keep quiet, not wanting to interrupt the Lullaby when it's clear he's already having a hard time speaking. She wants to ask if he wants to drink the vial he's just discovered exists, but as he continues, apparently he already has. Tugging at a loose thread in her skirts as if that will keep her hands busy enough, the Ancient sucks in a shaky inhale at last.

"None of that matters to me," she admits in a whisper, because it doesn't - how else has she kept going back for more all this time? "I know you inside out, remember. I just wish you'd let me say goodbye." Her breath shudders back out, and without thinking Isla reaches across the distance between them as if to brush the tears from his cheeks.

Isla