Damien
and every demon wants his pound of flesh
but i like to keep some things to myself
but i like to keep some things to myself
Damien studied her for a moment, the way she turned back instead of walking away, arms curled close against the cold but head tilted toward him like she’d decided the sting of wind was worth staying. It caught him off guard, that small shift. Most people didn’t ask. Fewer still waited for an answer.
“Rane was… a trapper,” he said, the word flat, pared down to the bone. “Took me in after my parents vanished. Blizzard swallowed the whole party, and I was too young to know what that meant, except that they didn’t come back. He kept me alive after that. Showed me how to set a snare, dress a kill, find water under the snow.”
The corner of his mouth tugged, not quite a smile. “He wasn’t gentle about it. Never really was. You learned, you kept up, or you froze. Tried to need him for more than that, he’d… remind you not to.” His thumb rubbed against the edge of the antler, though it wasn’t in his hands anymore. Habit, ghost-memory.
“But he stayed, until he went out on the trail one day and never came back. I was old enough to know what it meant, that time.” He let the quiet hang, letting her put together the rest. “So I kept this.” A nod toward the shrine where the antler lay. “Proof I hadn’t imagined him. Proof I hadn’t been alone, even if it felt like it, most days.”
“Rane was… a trapper,” he said, the word flat, pared down to the bone. “Took me in after my parents vanished. Blizzard swallowed the whole party, and I was too young to know what that meant, except that they didn’t come back. He kept me alive after that. Showed me how to set a snare, dress a kill, find water under the snow.”
The corner of his mouth tugged, not quite a smile. “He wasn’t gentle about it. Never really was. You learned, you kept up, or you froze. Tried to need him for more than that, he’d… remind you not to.” His thumb rubbed against the edge of the antler, though it wasn’t in his hands anymore. Habit, ghost-memory.
“But he stayed, until he went out on the trail one day and never came back. I was old enough to know what it meant, that time.” He let the quiet hang, letting her put together the rest. “So I kept this.” A nod toward the shrine where the antler lay. “Proof I hadn’t imagined him. Proof I hadn’t been alone, even if it felt like it, most days.”
