ISKRA
I always feel alone, inside my mind
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
How do I love my scars when I'm traumatized
Sometimes the pity a person offers lands wrong because they didn't say it right, or mean it right, or aren't the right person to have said it at all. Othertimes it's because you don't hear it right, the jumble of thoughts and feelings that surround whatever is being pitied liable to distort sentiments into stings. It has normally been one of the two for Iskra, but today the ghost of his mother doesn't linger like something that might suffocate him. It hasn't really, since he'd properly sent her off into the sea earlier this year, but the grief comes back like a tide every so often and threatens to pull him under again. Not nightly, like before, but the waves still rise up now and then.
"Have you lost both your parents too?" Iskra asks, glancing over the carving up of the wood into smaller, more manageable pieces between them. It's not a rare thing in Caido to lose family, not with wars and aliens adding death tolls to all the other hardships. It doesn't make the loss any kinder though for it's frequency.
He listens to Damien speak of Halo the way his mother always did about Torchline. The passion there brings a smile to his face. "I don't think you need excuses to call somewhere home," Iskra admits with the gentleness of someone who has discovered himself in the darkest corner of his room. "As long as you travel and are open to new things, home can be home. It's when people get stuck in a place and refuse the rest of the world that gets bad."
Iskra heaves out a large breath, grunting as he steps back and swipes a sleeve over the sweat beading along his face. They've chewed the tree down into a pile of firewood. Brushing bits of bark from his jacket, Iskra moves to place his axe back on his belt. "Time to bundle," he announces as he moves back to the steed, tugging free a few bundles of rope, some of which he tosses towards Damien. "Like visiting here," he points out as he stacks some wood into a pile and loops the cord around it in a way to keeps it secure in it's pyramid. "Could miss out on this gain if we only stayed in the mountains."
"Have you lost both your parents too?" Iskra asks, glancing over the carving up of the wood into smaller, more manageable pieces between them. It's not a rare thing in Caido to lose family, not with wars and aliens adding death tolls to all the other hardships. It doesn't make the loss any kinder though for it's frequency.
He listens to Damien speak of Halo the way his mother always did about Torchline. The passion there brings a smile to his face. "I don't think you need excuses to call somewhere home," Iskra admits with the gentleness of someone who has discovered himself in the darkest corner of his room. "As long as you travel and are open to new things, home can be home. It's when people get stuck in a place and refuse the rest of the world that gets bad."
Iskra heaves out a large breath, grunting as he steps back and swipes a sleeve over the sweat beading along his face. They've chewed the tree down into a pile of firewood. Brushing bits of bark from his jacket, Iskra moves to place his axe back on his belt. "Time to bundle," he announces as he moves back to the steed, tugging free a few bundles of rope, some of which he tosses towards Damien. "Like visiting here," he points out as he stacks some wood into a pile and loops the cord around it in a way to keeps it secure in it's pyramid. "Could miss out on this gain if we only stayed in the mountains."
I've been trying to find something
that can set my soul free
that can set my soul free
