Maea
give me shelter, or show me heart
"I will. It's a promise." One she intended to keep, no matter how uncomfortable she was with asking for things. It was part of the change she was embracing, where surviving wasn't the end goal and her friends wouldn't have to worry about the way she looked or what she ate and whether she had shelter for the night or not. Pursuing interests, learning new things, filling her cup with all the things that sparked joy, so that when misfortune and grief knocked her to the ground, the wouldn't have to search for reasons to get back up. Living, not merely existing. Thriving.
Though what that looked like beyond vague intentions of taking better care of herself, Maea didn't quite know. "That's... sort of what I hoped to figure out by moving," she admitted with a quiet laugh. "I've always admired passionate people. You know the kind - they live and breathe a craft, a role, and while they aren't only their work, it is a part of them." Like the dogged farmers she grew up around, like Talyson the Messenger who had made his deliveries into a lifestyle or Hadama, who would never be anything but kingly whether he wore his crown or not. "I don't know that I can be like that - I don't have anything I'm that interested in that's actually feasible - but to have a role, some real responsibility that I can show up for, balanced with fun times and good friends... that might be a good way to live."
If not always peaceful, then purposeful. If not entirely calm, then at least consistent, intentional, and voluntary. Not because she had to, but because it was what she wanted.
Rolling her head aside, a pale horn made a hollow sound as it scraped against rock. "What about you? What does it mean to end your hermitage?" With heat settling deep into her bones, the healing properties of the water released tension from her body. For the first time since they met, Maea felt completely relaxed; drowsy in the buoyant waters, at ease with the conversation now that the awkwardness had faded. Perhaps it was a matter of getting used to seeing Liam with water beading on the skin and his golden hair darkened and tamed by the water. Maybe it was enough to remember that he was the same person with and without a shirt; a steady, calming presence she gradually was learning to rely on.
Though what that looked like beyond vague intentions of taking better care of herself, Maea didn't quite know. "That's... sort of what I hoped to figure out by moving," she admitted with a quiet laugh. "I've always admired passionate people. You know the kind - they live and breathe a craft, a role, and while they aren't only their work, it is a part of them." Like the dogged farmers she grew up around, like Talyson the Messenger who had made his deliveries into a lifestyle or Hadama, who would never be anything but kingly whether he wore his crown or not. "I don't know that I can be like that - I don't have anything I'm that interested in that's actually feasible - but to have a role, some real responsibility that I can show up for, balanced with fun times and good friends... that might be a good way to live."
If not always peaceful, then purposeful. If not entirely calm, then at least consistent, intentional, and voluntary. Not because she had to, but because it was what she wanted.
Rolling her head aside, a pale horn made a hollow sound as it scraped against rock. "What about you? What does it mean to end your hermitage?" With heat settling deep into her bones, the healing properties of the water released tension from her body. For the first time since they met, Maea felt completely relaxed; drowsy in the buoyant waters, at ease with the conversation now that the awkwardness had faded. Perhaps it was a matter of getting used to seeing Liam with water beading on the skin and his golden hair darkened and tamed by the water. Maybe it was enough to remember that he was the same person with and without a shirt; a steady, calming presence she gradually was learning to rely on.
watch me fall apart
and I'll be yours to keep
and I'll be yours to keep
