The Sword granted support to the Evergreen wherever and however he could, a vessel and anchor in the storm, whispered murmurs, and formidable vows. He listened and snagged at each portion of information that he could, forging long held breaths and striving to grant anything he could. Almost there echoed against his mind, and he had no measure of how much had been taken or snagged in between those hours and moments, seconds and synapses – and perhaps it scarcely mattered in the end.
Not after a wail, a scream, from a newborn son.
He leaned first into Evie, grabbing hold of her cheeks gently, and indifferent to who saw, pressed his lips fervently against hers. “You are amazing,” and he’d tell her so every day.
And then there was a baby, theirs in her arms, and he unleashed the sigh forged into his lungs, proudly looking down at the squawling little beast. “Yes,” he rumbled, as if affirming it for both of them and the newest motion of reality, brushing away a few of his own tears that had suddenly appeared in an emotional upheaval. “You did so well,” giving credit where credit was due, before reaching out a finger to stroke at the babe’s crown; a forge of open admiration.
Not after a wail, a scream, from a newborn son.
He leaned first into Evie, grabbing hold of her cheeks gently, and indifferent to who saw, pressed his lips fervently against hers. “You are amazing,” and he’d tell her so every day.
And then there was a baby, theirs in her arms, and he unleashed the sigh forged into his lungs, proudly looking down at the squawling little beast. “Yes,” he rumbled, as if affirming it for both of them and the newest motion of reality, brushing away a few of his own tears that had suddenly appeared in an emotional upheaval. “You did so well,” giving credit where credit was due, before reaching out a finger to stroke at the babe’s crown; a forge of open admiration.
deimos
Never let them drain the river of your soul
