I will be your lighthouse
Her growing excitement instilled a similar buzz in him, a steady race back towards normal, or what it used to be once upon a time. Further still, that seemed to be a plan to visit him after all. He was positively beaming then, his cheeks nearly in pain from the smile he wielded in response to her own.
Goose, tiring of his duck for the time being, popped up and sauntered into the tent, as if for all the world he owned the thing. Iskra barely noticed, his attention rapt on Melita as her laughter thundered through him and set his heart racing wildly after it. How long could it have been like this? Sharing this joy, easing burdens by just existing together? What the fuck had he been doing this whole time? She should have torched him, his ass deserved it for how thick he'd become. It was so clear now, with her, and it felt ridiculously simple. Yet, that fear still flittered like a trapped bird in some dark corner of his chest. When she left, would it all come creeping back in? Was he strong enough to stay standing, bright and defiant in the abyss of grief, without her?
Maybe it never has to end.
Maybe they could just go on, like this, forever.
Her newfound laughter reeled his thoughts back in, grounded him to the now when he'd started to drift into the what-if. The waving of tendrils took his gaze from her for a moment, the gourd's silent warning causing laughter to erupt from Iskra. "I would sail anywhere with you," he admitted freely, risk to his life or not. The laughter quieted, but his eyes held her, seriousness there. He had done so much wrong, he had so much to make up for, especially to her. He would stand beside her, whenever and wherever he could.
At the moment, Goose trotted out of the tent, Iskra's shirt in tow as he carried it in his mouth. It drug across the ground, trampled a few times by a wayward paw, and some threads trailed at the very end, suggesting Goose had been working on it inside the tent first before deciding to show off his trophy. "HEY!" Iskra barked, jumping up to his feet. "That's my fucking shirt you thief! I've been looking for that all morning!" All morning, being the very few minutes he'd been awake before Mel came and distracted him. Goose, glancing over his shoulder at Iskra's ire, began to move faster. "Come back!" Iskra growled, beginning to give chase around the campsite.
Goose, tiring of his duck for the time being, popped up and sauntered into the tent, as if for all the world he owned the thing. Iskra barely noticed, his attention rapt on Melita as her laughter thundered through him and set his heart racing wildly after it. How long could it have been like this? Sharing this joy, easing burdens by just existing together? What the fuck had he been doing this whole time? She should have torched him, his ass deserved it for how thick he'd become. It was so clear now, with her, and it felt ridiculously simple. Yet, that fear still flittered like a trapped bird in some dark corner of his chest. When she left, would it all come creeping back in? Was he strong enough to stay standing, bright and defiant in the abyss of grief, without her?
Maybe it never has to end.
Maybe they could just go on, like this, forever.
Her newfound laughter reeled his thoughts back in, grounded him to the now when he'd started to drift into the what-if. The waving of tendrils took his gaze from her for a moment, the gourd's silent warning causing laughter to erupt from Iskra. "I would sail anywhere with you," he admitted freely, risk to his life or not. The laughter quieted, but his eyes held her, seriousness there. He had done so much wrong, he had so much to make up for, especially to her. He would stand beside her, whenever and wherever he could.
At the moment, Goose trotted out of the tent, Iskra's shirt in tow as he carried it in his mouth. It drug across the ground, trampled a few times by a wayward paw, and some threads trailed at the very end, suggesting Goose had been working on it inside the tent first before deciding to show off his trophy. "HEY!" Iskra barked, jumping up to his feet. "That's my fucking shirt you thief! I've been looking for that all morning!" All morning, being the very few minutes he'd been awake before Mel came and distracted him. Goose, glancing over his shoulder at Iskra's ire, began to move faster. "Come back!" Iskra growled, beginning to give chase around the campsite.
Iskra
