Aim your arrow at the sky
SHOOT LIGHTNING THROUGH THE VITAL VEINS
SHOOT LIGHTNING THROUGH THE VITAL VEINS
He's not as good at reading people as any of his parents (somehow, and he resents it) but Jude can see the flicker of disapproval in Zavien's face and it makes his heart constrict. It's far from unfair, but it still hurts when the man has impressed him so thoroughly at every turn. Honestly it's a miracle his actual input is nicer than expected - and likely warranted - but Jude stands like a chastened child as he soaks it in. This is the lesson Safrin wanted him to learn and it's deeper and more multi-faceted than the one he'd been face-first in while praying someone saw his waving from the mouth of the alley. He just has to think of the hurt as growing pains.
He takes longer to write in his journal this time, pencil pausing and hovering as he collects his thoughts every few sentences. When he turns it back to Zavien, the rising sun filters over the neater penmanship and Jude knows his day of muteness is ending soon. As he's jostled companionably, Jude smiles, the tension lines around his mouth finally bled dry for the first time that night.
I know it's too little too late, but I had hoped coming out at night would have reduced the potential for harm. I think you're right about the power of a voice, in a larger scope than I thought. Safrin and Vi hold life sacred. He had been too young to experience it firsthand, but if he thinks of the war in terms of propaganda and deeply held Old God beliefs, suddenly the power of a single voice seems terrifyingly grand instead of so simple as saving or impacting one stranger's life. Thank you, Zavien. For everything. Here's my address in Torchline. It would be nice to meet you again someday. Jude's cheeks are slightly flushed as he underlines the first three words a few times while the man watches to emphasize the sentiment, and then he rips out the small section where he'd written his address. Making friends - of any age - isn't Jude's strong point, but maybe it's as easy of a start as this. No expectations or scheduled reunions, just sincere appreciation for someone's personality and a communicated desire to see them again.
He takes longer to write in his journal this time, pencil pausing and hovering as he collects his thoughts every few sentences. When he turns it back to Zavien, the rising sun filters over the neater penmanship and Jude knows his day of muteness is ending soon. As he's jostled companionably, Jude smiles, the tension lines around his mouth finally bled dry for the first time that night.
I know it's too little too late, but I had hoped coming out at night would have reduced the potential for harm. I think you're right about the power of a voice, in a larger scope than I thought. Safrin and Vi hold life sacred. He had been too young to experience it firsthand, but if he thinks of the war in terms of propaganda and deeply held Old God beliefs, suddenly the power of a single voice seems terrifyingly grand instead of so simple as saving or impacting one stranger's life. Thank you, Zavien. For everything. Here's my address in Torchline. It would be nice to meet you again someday. Jude's cheeks are slightly flushed as he underlines the first three words a few times while the man watches to emphasize the sentiment, and then he rips out the small section where he'd written his address. Making friends - of any age - isn't Jude's strong point, but maybe it's as easy of a start as this. No expectations or scheduled reunions, just sincere appreciation for someone's personality and a communicated desire to see them again.
THEY THINK THAT YOU EMIT THE LIGHT
But you only take it in
But you only take it in
