Ashe
I lower my head to the snow and start gathering the limp bodies into my jaws, pulling as many as I can manage. The metallic tang of blood lingers, feathers sticking to the roof of my mouth, but I don’t mind—it’s grounding, almost. As I work, I realize Deimos might’ve needed this just as much as I did. The way he’d cut loose, fast and unrestrained, not as the Warden, not as the Sword, but as something feral and free. It mirrors something in me, and the thought makes my chest ache with understanding.
The last time I did something like this… the words slip through the bond as I grip another bird and drag it closer to the pile, was before my husband fell to his death. When the world fractured apart. We were in the Fangs then.
I pause, ears twitching, a furrow in my brow. I don’t know why I tell him that. Maybe because he’s an Outlander too. Maybe because he’s lost people he’s loved. Maybe because we both stood behind the barrier, survived with everyone through the horrors that nearly broke us all.
I shift the weight of another ningo in my jaws before speaking again. This is a good break from grief.
Inside, though, the words carry a sharper edge. The chasm Kalt left in me yawns wide even now—an endless hollow carved out when he vanished over that cliff. Theea is my whole heart, but even her light doesn’t fill the space where he should be. Something in my very soul was torn, and I’ve known all along it would never mend the way it was.
But slowly, painfully, I’m learning to live again. Since stepping out of the shadows, since returning to the public eye, reconnecting with family, with friends. Even making amends with my mother at Remi and Ronin’s party—a thing I thought I’d never have the chance to do.
I’m not sure I’ll ever heal right. Some breaks are too jagged, too deep. But maybe I’ll learn to live with it.
The last time I did something like this… the words slip through the bond as I grip another bird and drag it closer to the pile, was before my husband fell to his death. When the world fractured apart. We were in the Fangs then.
I pause, ears twitching, a furrow in my brow. I don’t know why I tell him that. Maybe because he’s an Outlander too. Maybe because he’s lost people he’s loved. Maybe because we both stood behind the barrier, survived with everyone through the horrors that nearly broke us all.
I shift the weight of another ningo in my jaws before speaking again. This is a good break from grief.
Inside, though, the words carry a sharper edge. The chasm Kalt left in me yawns wide even now—an endless hollow carved out when he vanished over that cliff. Theea is my whole heart, but even her light doesn’t fill the space where he should be. Something in my very soul was torn, and I’ve known all along it would never mend the way it was.
But slowly, painfully, I’m learning to live again. Since stepping out of the shadows, since returning to the public eye, reconnecting with family, with friends. Even making amends with my mother at Remi and Ronin’s party—a thing I thought I’d never have the chance to do.
I’m not sure I’ll ever heal right. Some breaks are too jagged, too deep. But maybe I’ll learn to live with it.
inside my blood and bone
and their network of tendon and meat
you and i, our histories of hunting
and being the beast.
