Vervain
even the darkest night
will end
will end
"Ciao, Remi." Vai's musical voice trills from somewhere distant at first, it seems, before the veil parts and the witch steps through into the houseboat, wrapped in the smell of juniper and rosemary and petrichor. With her dark hair as wild as it ever was and her eyes bright and clear, she brings the Greatwood out with her as if the ghost of it, too, resides in Mort's realm. With arms outstretched, whatever greeting the Bastion wants to give her may well end up muffled by her embrace, Vai clutching her son close and holding him tightly.
"I have missed you so much," she whispers, peppering his curls with kisses and squeezing him as if he's nothing more, still, than the boy she'd met in Northaven, rather than a carved statue of a man blessed by death himself. "Sit down, let me look at you properly-- oh, I do apologise. Who is this?" Beaming and drawing back just enough to peep at Oria, Vai holds out her pinky finger for the spriggan to shake.
"I have missed you so much," she whispers, peppering his curls with kisses and squeezing him as if he's nothing more, still, than the boy she'd met in Northaven, rather than a carved statue of a man blessed by death himself. "Sit down, let me look at you properly-- oh, I do apologise. Who is this?" Beaming and drawing back just enough to peep at Oria, Vai holds out her pinky finger for the spriggan to shake.
and the sun
will rise
will rise
