Evie
normality is a paved road
comfortable to walk, but where no flowers grow
comfortable to walk, but where no flowers grow
His apology is met with a sleepy grunt, consciousness hastening at the implications. Deimos’ apologies are a barometer for Evie, a system she has learned over the years to clue her in on his state of mind. It would be comical if it didn’t make her heart hurt.
So as he’s turning the sketch to her she is already struggling up onto her elbows amidst a tangle of sheets and limbs with the renewed vigor that comes with trepidation. Quickly thumbing away the grit in her eyes she looks down at the rendering of his dream and can’t help the click in her throat as she tries to gasp and swallow at the same time. Gods, can they never catch a break? Can he specifically? Evie swallows down the directionless fire that rages, wanting to demand her husband’s freedom from these encounters but knowing her voice holds less than no sway to the gods and their fate-spinners anyway.
“So like…a caravan? A way to transport more of them to Caido on the rock?” Her wording falls short given she’s not exactly educated on space travel or any other magical or celestial versions of it. Troy’s wooden horse - so why aren’t they emerging? “Go on.” Evie will never be ready for this conversation but she’s as awake and alert as could be expected, and she doesn’t want to waste precious time on something so luxurious as her own comfort.
So as he’s turning the sketch to her she is already struggling up onto her elbows amidst a tangle of sheets and limbs with the renewed vigor that comes with trepidation. Quickly thumbing away the grit in her eyes she looks down at the rendering of his dream and can’t help the click in her throat as she tries to gasp and swallow at the same time. Gods, can they never catch a break? Can he specifically? Evie swallows down the directionless fire that rages, wanting to demand her husband’s freedom from these encounters but knowing her voice holds less than no sway to the gods and their fate-spinners anyway.
“So like…a caravan? A way to transport more of them to Caido on the rock?” Her wording falls short given she’s not exactly educated on space travel or any other magical or celestial versions of it. Troy’s wooden horse - so why aren’t they emerging? “Go on.” Evie will never be ready for this conversation but she’s as awake and alert as could be expected, and she doesn’t want to waste precious time on something so luxurious as her own comfort.
