midas is kind and he holds me so tight

Who is the lamb and who is the knife?

At first, Wren told herself it was nothing.

A shiver moved through the stone beneath her feet, just enough to make the cups on the cafe’s counter clink together, just enough to make her pause mid-motion with her book in her hands. No one cried out. No alarms sounded. A few people glanced around, brows furrowing, and then life resumed its steady rhythm. She exhaled and forced her fingers to unclench, to stop overbending the binding of her book.

Hours later, it happened again.

This time the tremor slid straight through her bones, rattling her teeth and blooming cold behind her ribs. The walls hummed, a low, wrong vibration that made her vision blur at the edges. Someone laughed nervously. Someone else muttered a prayer. Wren’s heart stuttered, then lurched into a gallop she could not slow. Her palms felt sweaty. The cafe felt too small, the ceiling suddenly oppressive despite the open air beyond the windows.

She stood up, her chair groaning across the floor in a sharp way that made other patrons turn their heads her way. Images rose unbidden in her mind, of white stone, blood on her hands, a name she did not recognize echoing in her ears. Jesse. Wren. Neither fit. Both pressed in on her at once.

The air felt thin, like Stormbreak had climbed higher without warning. She tried to breathe but her chest felt tight. She couldn't stay here. She moved without thinking and pushed through the cafe entrance, out into the bright, unwavering heat of Longheat. Her pulse roared louder than the city, louder than the murmurs of unease spreading through the streets outside. 

She pushed through a small crowd of people heading for the same cafe she was vacating, and her knees nearly gave as she darted into the nearest alley. Wren braced herself against the wall, fingers digging into the stone as if she could anchor the city--and herself--by sheer will alone. Honest fear flooded her, raw and unfiltered.

wren

Only twenty minutes to sleep
But you dream of some epiphany

The first tremor found Soh in her office. It was faint - so much so that the ambassador wondered if she had imagined it. It was just enough to make the pen at the edge of her desk roll to the side, clattering to the floor in a sudden fall that made Soh jump. Strange, she thought to herself, suddenly on edge. She'd never felt anything like that before. What did it mean?

Maybe it was nothing, she told herself.

The second tremor disabused her of that notion.

She was in the Plaza, on her way to a local cafe she frequented. This tremor was bolder, enough that she staggered slightly, pausing in her walk to hold herself upright against the nearest building. Nothing fell - yet - but she could hear the screams, the prayers, and then the muttered rumors beginning to bud around her as people nervously resumed their days.

All except one. A girl darted into a nearby alley. Soh might not have followed, but she saw the look on the girl's face. Pure, unadulterated fear.

So into the alley she went, careful to walk loudly enough to be heard, her shoes scuffing against the pavement. "Hey," she called out from a generous distance, her voice gentle and calm despite the way her heart hammered in her chest. "You okay?"

Just one single glimpse of relief
To make some sense of what you've seen

Sohalia

Who is the lamb and who is the knife?

Her breathing was short and light and hot as she pressed herself against the bricks of the building. The air in the alley felt suffocating as Stormbreak's heat pressed in all around her with greedy, groping figners that threatened to choke out what little control over herself she had. Sweat beaded on her forehead and at the base of her neck, her hair sticking to her skin. She tilted her head back, letting it rest against the warm brick, though it was not gentle. The thud of her skull htiting stone vibrated through her temples and town into her teeth as they gritted together and she sucked in a sharp breath. While not intentional, the motion and sensation gave her a jolt and stopped her hyperventilating.

Blood pounded in her ears and the sounds of the bustling city were nothing but muted sounds. Wren wrapped her arms around herself, bare arms wishing for cover despite the heat as she tried to hold herself. Her grip was as if she could press it all into her ribcage and make it go away, as if she were rock beneath heat and pressure and a diamond would be the outcome. She didn't hear the woman's approach deespite the obvious was she entere the alley, with her own blood coursing through her and the throbbing pain from the back of her head the only sounds she knew.

But then the woman called out, and panic made Wren's head snap towards the sound, body straightening immediately and muscles pulling her rod-straight, looking like a deer in a spotlight.

wren

Only twenty minutes to sleep
But you dream of some epiphany

Despite her best efforts, it seemed that Soh had startled the girl; she held up her hands, palms outward, doing her best to project a sense of calm that she didn't really feel. "Hey," she said again, carefully moving towards the girl. "My name's Soh. I'm here to help, okay?" She'd had enough panic attacks of her own over the years to recognize the signs. She stopped a few feet away from the girl, leaning against the brick beside her with one shoulder. "Let's breathe together, okay?" she suggested gently. "In -" And she sucked in a breath. "And out." Air whooshed from her mouth in a controlled breath.

She repeated this a few times, trying to coax the girl into breathing with her. Around them, the alley was still. The air pressed in around them, hot and stifling. A few flies buzzed lazily further down the alley, where a few trash cans were baking in the heat. The sounds of the city beyond the alley seemed muted and dulled, though Soh knew that life had moved on out there in a way that it hadn't quite managed in here. The tremor that had come and gone had left no trace, except for the panic of two young women, each coping with it in their own way. For Soh, helping someone else would calm her as nothing else would.

Just one single glimpse of relief
To make some sense of what you've seen

Sohalia

The scent reaches you before you see it — sharp, resinous, and unmistakably warm. Just off the path grows a dense cluster of plants thriving in the heat, their leaves dark and glossy, their stems heavy with sap.

When the breeze shifts, the plants release a rich, smoky fragrance that clings to the air, the kind that would burn slowly and sweetly if dried. Some of the leaves are already curling at the edges, sun-cured and ready.

The cluster stands out from its surroundings, vibrant and intentional, as though cultivated for a purpose far beyond simple growth.

---

You've found an offering for Tanau! Whoever is next to post in this thread will be the first one to see the offering, but if they wish to give it to someone else, they're more than welcome! No need to post in account updates, just keep track of this thread for the Longheat SWE!

Who is the lamb and who is the knife?

The woman before her morphed from blonde to the warm, dark amber she knew well as Dr. Hart. Where the stranger once stood, blurred static, was now the helper she knew well.

She drew in a breath, slow and tentative at first, the city scent filling her lungs and anchoring there. Her shoulders trembled as she held it, chest tight, then let it go in a shaky exhale that felt like it dragged some of the panic with it. Again, she breathed, eyebrows knit tight, counting without realizing she was counting. Her pulse still raced, but it began to stumble out of its frantic rhythm. The world narrowed to sensory fragments she could catalog: the warmth of the bricks of the buildings that stood shoulder to shoulder to make the alley, the ache in her skull, the smell of the cafe she had just run from.

Wren didn't move from where she had frozen herself, spine still rigid from the spike of panic. The woman’s presence lingered at the edge of her awareness, the mirage of Dr. Hart shifting away and the flick of blonde hair in the breeze returning. She breathed again, this time her brain fixating on a new scent. The scent was wrong for the alley. It cut through the stink of stone and sweat and sun-baked dust. She swallowed and forced herself to breathe again, shallow at first, then deeper, drawn unwillingly toward it.

Just off the path, half-hidden where the light spilled unevenly, a dense cluster of plants thrived in the heat. Wren loosened her grip on herself by degrees, fingers uncurling from her arms. She did not step closer, not yet, but her gaze lingered on the plants as if they were an answer she hadn’t known how to ask for. "What's that?"

wren

Only twenty minutes to sleep
But you dream of some epiphany

Soh waited, coaching the girl quietly through her panic, until her breaths started to slow and her eyes lost a bit of their glassy fear. It was enough that Soh could extend her own awareness, noting the muted sounds of the city outside the alley, the smell of rotting food by the trash cans, the feel of the sun beating down on them even in the alleyway.

The first hint of something strange appearing was the scent of something rich and smoky - something that somehow reminded Soh of firewood, despite the undertones of something alive. So when the girl's attention shifted, Soh's silver gaze followed the stranger's to alight on something strange, something that existed as a splotch of vivid green against the dark stones of the alley. Soh blinked, confused. Where had the plant come from, and what was its purpose? She'd never seen its like before in Stormbreak, and its appearance around the same time as the tremors made her uneasy. Still, she couldn't make a logical connection between a small plant and an earthquake.

"I'm not sure," she said, frown furrowing her brow. "I've never seen a plant like that before."

Just one single glimpse of relief
To make some sense of what you've seen

Sohalia

Who is the lamb and who is the knife?

Wren swallowed, the motion tight in her throat, and nodded faintly at Sohalia’s answer. Curiosity--quiet, careful, almost childlike--began to thread through the last tatters of her panic.

She shifted her weight, knees bending to crouch, the movement slow. The heat of the stone bled through the thin fabric of her linen pants. Up close, the plant’s leaves were thick and dark, their surfaces catching the light like polished glass. Sap glistened along the stems, amber and viscous, and the smoky, resinous scent intensified the closer she got. Her fingers hovered, then carefully, she pinched the stem and pulled.

There was a soft resistance, then a gentle give. Then, the city tremored again. Wren sucked in a sharp breath and spun around like a panicked rabbit, back pressing against the stone. Her eyes slammed shut and she leaned her head back against the wall, pressing against the bricks. "Not again, not again," She whispered, voice faint and terrified.

wren

Only twenty minutes to sleep
But you dream of some epiphany

Soh watched as the girl's demeanor shifted. Like a shy, quiet fawn, she slowly reached out from her place of panic and fear and into a curiosity that unfurled like a delicate flower beneath the Longheat sun. There was something about it that drew a soft smile to Soh's face. This innocence was something to be protected, something to be treasured.

The girl pinched the stem of the little plant and pulled.

And then the ground beneath them shifted, trembling and shaking. Not violently, not really, but enough to elicit screams from beyond the alley and a sudden withdrawal from the girl, who whispered something that Soh couldn't quite hear past the pounding in her ears and pressed back against the wall. For her part, Soh reached out a hand to steady herself against the stone until the tremor passed.

Just one single glimpse of relief
To make some sense of what you've seen

Sohalia

Who is the lamb and who is the knife?

The tremor faded, but the echo of it lingered in Wren’s body, a phantom vibration that kept her muscles locked and her breath shallow. She clutched the plant against her chest, the amber of it mixed with fear and dust. Her heart hammered so hard it hurt. 

She tried to focus on Sohalia, on the steady presence beside her, but the alley felt too narrow and the walls too close. The warmth of the bricks against her back was no longer grounding, but suffocating. Her vision tunneled, the edges darkening, the world reduced to the roar of blood in her ears. Another tremor could come at any moment. The thought spiraled, tightening around her chest. 

She trembled as she lifted herself off the ground. Guilt flickered through her and made her panic light up like a crackle of lightning  across the dark sky. She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to unravel like this in front of anyone -- but fear drowned it out, loud and merciless. 

The alley was no longer a place.

It was a trap.

"I'm sorry -- I -- I gotta -- g -- " Wren couldn't really keep herself together anymore. All she knew was that she needed to run, so run she did.

FIN

wren