JUDE
the light of dawn is coming
Meeting with Koa had left a broiling in his stomach that Jude could only turn into movement and action. There are unimaginable reaches to the Greatwood, and he only has so much time between necessary returns to the Bodega to send letters to Noe. There’s hardly time to sleep, though that doesn’t help his inability to process all he’s feeling right now.
Ludo’s woods are appropriately hallowed and foreboding, and remind him all the more of why Safrin is Jude’s chosen herald. He wishes he could see her stars more often through the canopy but even if he could, the sun hangs overhead beyond it right now. She’s never far away, but he yearns for her comforting presence more and more as the days of hunting unravel in lonely spools before him.
Maybe his inattentiveness is what leads to it, or the Greatwood’s meddling as diverted roads converge. Jude steps out of the forested area he’d been combing and back onto the path right as Sohalia comes down it. Dappled sunlight hits her hair and pierces his stomach with a particular mix of misplaced love and bitter hurt that he only associates with the Heart. “Soh-alia,” he blurts awkwardly, recovering the entirety of her name just a touch too gracelessly to pass muster. “I didn’t know you were in the Greatwood.” It feels stupid to say the moment he says it. Why would he be privy to her movements? Why is he curious at all whether she’s visiting or living here?
Ludo’s woods are appropriately hallowed and foreboding, and remind him all the more of why Safrin is Jude’s chosen herald. He wishes he could see her stars more often through the canopy but even if he could, the sun hangs overhead beyond it right now. She’s never far away, but he yearns for her comforting presence more and more as the days of hunting unravel in lonely spools before him.
Maybe his inattentiveness is what leads to it, or the Greatwood’s meddling as diverted roads converge. Jude steps out of the forested area he’d been combing and back onto the path right as Sohalia comes down it. Dappled sunlight hits her hair and pierces his stomach with a particular mix of misplaced love and bitter hurt that he only associates with the Heart. “Soh-alia,” he blurts awkwardly, recovering the entirety of her name just a touch too gracelessly to pass muster. “I didn’t know you were in the Greatwood.” It feels stupid to say the moment he says it. Why would he be privy to her movements? Why is he curious at all whether she’s visiting or living here?
ready to return everything the darkness stole
