Maea
And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die
It heals them when you die
The chivalry and the casual claim of familial bonds reminded her painfully of Amun, but where she would have accepted him, Danta remained a stranger. Shying away just out of reach from the offered arm with an awkward shake of her head, Maea chewed on the pieces of information he fed her. Flashes of recollection helped complete the picture - she had been fleeing the fires, she remembered, and then a jumbled confusion as change came over her. The Voice gone, someone else appearing in her place, and a terrible urge to tear into anything that moved... She had been running from that too. Not fast enough though, evidently.
Running her tongue over the fangs that seemed a permanent fixture in her mouth now, they were easier to accept than the passage of so much time. Still, it might have been better if she lost centuries or eons rather than a few short years. This was only enough to leave her displaced in face of current events and not enough for a fresh start, where the past wouldn't matter anymore. People gone, changes wrought, and yet the Spire still loomed on the horizon like an accusing finger as they exited the woodland, mutely confirming that she kept running in place, going nowhere.
"Does the leader of the Grounds usually burn statues in the outback?" she wondered eventually, when the worst of the shock had settled. Keeping her eyes on the road as they walked, then on the bottom of the cart that offered them transport back to the settlement, she avoided meeting his gaze. Speaking softly so that the driver wouldn't overhear, she continued. "I'm grateful. But I'm probably not the kind of sister you're thinking of. There's nothing ancient about me at all."
Better make that clear from the start. His kindness and generosity felt misplaced and she an impostor - a far cry from what Danta must be expecting. Horns and a tail did not family make and she had bad experience with people who played house in this manner.
Running her tongue over the fangs that seemed a permanent fixture in her mouth now, they were easier to accept than the passage of so much time. Still, it might have been better if she lost centuries or eons rather than a few short years. This was only enough to leave her displaced in face of current events and not enough for a fresh start, where the past wouldn't matter anymore. People gone, changes wrought, and yet the Spire still loomed on the horizon like an accusing finger as they exited the woodland, mutely confirming that she kept running in place, going nowhere.
"Does the leader of the Grounds usually burn statues in the outback?" she wondered eventually, when the worst of the shock had settled. Keeping her eyes on the road as they walked, then on the bottom of the cart that offered them transport back to the settlement, she avoided meeting his gaze. Speaking softly so that the driver wouldn't overhear, she continued. "I'm grateful. But I'm probably not the kind of sister you're thinking of. There's nothing ancient about me at all."
Better make that clear from the start. His kindness and generosity felt misplaced and she an impostor - a far cry from what Danta must be expecting. Horns and a tail did not family make and she had bad experience with people who played house in this manner.
And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh
A whisper within a sigh
