EVIE
like love is a bad word
It’s a ride she wishes could last forever, and she’s sure Deimos has the strength to outlast her even if they tried. The wind is cuttingly cold, but Evie can’t feel it beneath the elation and wonder. He’s beautiful, a flowing streak of obsidian that seems to swallow the snow, and Evie has never wondered what it would be like to experience that but now she can’t help it. What would her own soul reflect if it were given form? Would she be half as magnificent as him?The trees come far too soon. They are sad, sagging things, withstanding the weight of snowy boughs with a strength Evie never would have thought they still contained. Though her examination is nearly clinical, she’s swiftly distracted by the odd, horrible, yet persistently intriguing shift Deimos undergoes as the sled comes to a stop. Her smile is unbidden. “That was incredible,” she says in lieu of answering the question he’d actually asked. Gracefully hopping out of the sled, she touches her hand to the handle of one of the axes in the sled. “What’s the best way to do this without ruining the wood?” Experienced as she is in harvesting wood in the Grounds, they need to be intentional this time so as not to waste anything.
