// think of the sun that shaped them //
The warm offers in response snapped away so quickly she might’ve forgotten them – for it was difficult to savor the potential of fledgling things when fear struck. All those prey instincts curled and contorted within, and for a few instances more she could only hear the birds and insects and everything else around her trembling, her fingers digging into the grass, wondering about swiftness and flight over fight. Seasons and years before she would’ve been inclined to shake and shudder and do not much else but shelter and burrow away. Maybe she could’ve flown. Maybe she could’ve sprinted. Maybe she could’ve hastened off, small and insignificant, in the face of a screaming banshee.
Zavien’s hand on her shoulder was enough to drown out some of the bombardments through her mind, and she drew upon Attuned measures – utilizing Mittens’ sight through the grass to peer at the apparition, rather than merely cower and shrink. She appeared to have turned, the patched away wedding dress slinking further down the stream, haggard state coasting, ghosting, and screeching until she caught something else. Which meant they might have a chance.
Her gaze went back to Zavien, serious and stalwart, mind committing to a plan of action, voice lowered into a quick and swift whisper near his ear. “I’m going to shift. You follow through the grass. We should be able to head upstream.” As a bird, she’d be far less ostentatious and noticeable, much like a piece of the backdrop, and with less of them in the reeds, not nearly as enticing or discernible. Plus, from her height vantage, she’d be able to direct them much easier. Taking another deep breath, she waited for some rebuttal or acceptance, uncertain whether he had any notions either. “Sound okay?”
Zavien’s hand on her shoulder was enough to drown out some of the bombardments through her mind, and she drew upon Attuned measures – utilizing Mittens’ sight through the grass to peer at the apparition, rather than merely cower and shrink. She appeared to have turned, the patched away wedding dress slinking further down the stream, haggard state coasting, ghosting, and screeching until she caught something else. Which meant they might have a chance.
Her gaze went back to Zavien, serious and stalwart, mind committing to a plan of action, voice lowered into a quick and swift whisper near his ear. “I’m going to shift. You follow through the grass. We should be able to head upstream.” As a bird, she’d be far less ostentatious and noticeable, much like a piece of the backdrop, and with less of them in the reeds, not nearly as enticing or discernible. Plus, from her height vantage, she’d be able to direct them much easier. Taking another deep breath, she waited for some rebuttal or acceptance, uncertain whether he had any notions either. “Sound okay?”
Lena
// the speck of truth that's ours //
