funny how true colours shine in darkness and secrecy

Koa

Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake
Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

The idea that the forest moved them doesn't make Koa feel any more confident, but his anxiety is blunted by the playful mischief that shifts across her face like ripples on a pond. "I bet," Koa answers, warm and fond at the idea of mini!Flora ordering the trees around with gentle and firm authority, leaving her brother and anyone else standing open-handed and slack-jawed. Always an imperious queen, he can remember that from their brief flashes of shared childhood. He'd admired her even in those halcyon days, when they'd been young and stupid and pure.

It's easy to pretend, for a minute, that everything is okay. That with the escape from the Wickerwoman they've successfully left the greatest danger behind- but of course they haven't, because the biggest danger they've ever faced is themselves. "I would never!" Koa sniffs, playfully defensive, though his smile falters as she pulls away. With the drain of adrenaline comes reality's return, and even the idyllic environment they've found themselves in isn't enough to keep their differences from settling like silt as the turbid waters still.

Koa takes a step away, his hand reaching up to dig in his hair as he looks around the glade. "As long as we can find our way out," he mumbles, gazing into the trees as though a path might open before him. Though whether that's a path to civilization or away from the conversation they have to return to...

Well, maybe a bit of both.

"Flora..." Koa exhales heavily, his jaw working as he searches for the words he needs. Suddenly the glade feels far too small, the trees oppressive rather than romantic, the song of birds mocking in their carefree joy. He needs to pick up where he left off, to ask about Jack and Kaisel and the crime that's happened, but that's not what comes out. "I hate that I don't know how to talk to you anymore," the Dragoon says instead, frustration tightening his throat, making his voice gruff. "I don't want-- I want us to be--" He breaks off with a frustrated huff, shaking his head like a dog. What does he want them to be? Friends? Less?

More?

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Maybe that will go over better. Or else it'll fully blow them up.

If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great
But while in this world I think I'll take my whiskey neat