Thalassa
As he steps closer, Thal doesn't move, her jaw clenched so tight that her fangs ache, her body in a strange limbo of fight or flight without an enemy to direct her efforts against. She knows he's not the enemy - knows he's the only thing that might bring her back from this hollow abyss she's found herself in. So she lets him approach, staying unnaturally still as she watches his every movement.
The soft threading of his fingers doesn't dampen the pain, but it eases the tight coiling of the muscle, wanting desperately to feel something other than the emptiness that carves her inside. Her eyes flutter shut at the gentle tone that reminds her she's not alone, willing her to follow the sound into the present instead of the memories that threaten to swallow her.
Slowly, like she's trying to remember the color of her hair or the shape of her nose, Thal shifts. She shrinks down, her hands and knees bracing in the mud and Asta's warm palm against her shoulder to ground her in the form. Her hair lays oil slick against her head tangled around the horns from the wind and rain, lifeless. Her clothes don't fair much better, worn and drenched against her wet skin, only her Flametouched daggers on her hips and the pendant necklace against her throat. Her breaths stutter like they're trying to adjust to her consciousness or the new shape of her lungs.
Thal doesn't look up, concentrating on the syllables that will explain it all, uncertain she can. When her mouth opens to speak, it's barely above a whisper, requiring two attempts before the sounds take shape. "He's... gone." The tears don't flow, having long run dry without hydration, but the broken expression on her face and trembling of her words say more than enough. "I - I don't know what to do."
The soft threading of his fingers doesn't dampen the pain, but it eases the tight coiling of the muscle, wanting desperately to feel something other than the emptiness that carves her inside. Her eyes flutter shut at the gentle tone that reminds her she's not alone, willing her to follow the sound into the present instead of the memories that threaten to swallow her.
Slowly, like she's trying to remember the color of her hair or the shape of her nose, Thal shifts. She shrinks down, her hands and knees bracing in the mud and Asta's warm palm against her shoulder to ground her in the form. Her hair lays oil slick against her head tangled around the horns from the wind and rain, lifeless. Her clothes don't fair much better, worn and drenched against her wet skin, only her Flametouched daggers on her hips and the pendant necklace against her throat. Her breaths stutter like they're trying to adjust to her consciousness or the new shape of her lungs.
Thal doesn't look up, concentrating on the syllables that will explain it all, uncertain she can. When her mouth opens to speak, it's barely above a whisper, requiring two attempts before the sounds take shape. "He's... gone." The tears don't flow, having long run dry without hydration, but the broken expression on her face and trembling of her words say more than enough. "I - I don't know what to do."
Walk with me to the end
Stare with me into the abyss
Stare with me into the abyss
