Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
It was an impressive sight, to be sure. The Tidebreaker loomed tall and resolute before her, the edges of him blending into the shadows so that he seemed a creature spun out of night and stardust. Perhaps he was, these days. Certainly she sensed the easy strength in the way he carried himself, knew with a feline instinct the magnitudes of difference between their abilities. Greater now than when they had traded blows in front of the Cathedral. She supposed that's what happened when you pledged yourself to the gods. Getting tired of my own words
Yet it was the simplicity of his words that moved her. The kindness she didn't really deserve, considering what she had put him through, and the hand he extended anyway. How many times did that make it? How many times, how many people, kept reaching out to her as she tripped and stumbled and struggled to find her footing in a changing world?
Maybe, Maea thought, she was not cursed with bad luck so much as she was blessed with second chances.
She took Hadama's hand and let him pull her to her feet. "I would like that," she admitted. Craning her head back so she could meet his gaze, the smile that flitted over her lips was fleeting, but genuine. Grateful. "Got any advice on how to make it happen? I'm... a bit lost." The understatement of the century.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
