Damien
the woods have remembered you
Damien could feel it in his bones, the charge that came with the hour. Maybe it was just the silence stretched too thin, maybe it was because he knew Theea loved it too; the fragile sliver of time before the world woke up. It was like sharing a secret without saying a word. Or maybe it wasn’t mystical at all. Maybe it was just instinct, prickling at the back of his neck: you’re being watched.Too late. A whisper of feet, the hiss of steel, and the cold press of a blade at his shoulder. By the time he half-turned she was already grinning, laughter slipping through the morning like it belonged there.
He grunted, mostly at himself, then shot a look toward Aria. The cub’s head popped up from her blanket, ears pricked, eyes gleaming. “Why didn’t you warn me?” Damien muttered, dry as frost-burned wood.
Aria only blinked, gave a kittenish sneeze, and buried her nose back in the folds. No help at all.
He shook his head, crooked smile tugging at his mouth as he turned halfway towards Theea. “Alright. You got the jump on me.” He stepped back a few paces, out of her blade's biting reach. Then his hand located a piece from one of the weapons racks, plucking a small but sturdy shield from the line. With a flick of his wrist he sent it sailing toward her—fast enough she’d have to catch it or let it clatter across the ground. “Now let’s see how you do when my back isn't turned.”
He took another shield for himself and strapped it onto his arm. The axe he held aside in his other hand for now. Why shields? Because he wasn’t about to carve her open like meat on the block—and he had no desire to find himself gutted either.
“Come on, Theea,” he said, rolling his shoulder and holding the shield higher, voice carrying that low growl of challenge. “See if you can land that blade twice.”
ever since the first time you got lost in them
