[SE] that sound when fire meets ice

a lot of people will look at you

Aria

Damien’s jaw tightened at her words, but he let them pass without biting back this time. He wasn’t about to argue the obvious. She wasn’t wrong, only merciless in how she said it. A part of him respected that, even as it left him feeling like a scolded child. His gaze shifted to the cub, purring so hard her whole body seemed to vibrate, small teeth latched happily on the Ancient’s finger like none of this had been dire at all.

“She wouldn’t stand for a leash...” he said, his tone even, stripped of sarcasm now. “She’s still young. Still learning. So am I.” The admission cost him something, but it was honest, and he let it sit there without excuse.

Aria chose that moment to flop deeper into the woman’s hold, batting lazily at her before settling her head against her chest, tail curling like she’d found herself a second home. Damien gave a low breath that wasn’t quite a sigh.

Then he shifted his weight and kneeled down to tug his pack open. From it he pulled a length of rope, the fibers rough and salt-stained from travel. Without comment, he began working it through his hands, twisting and knotting with the ease of someone who’d spent years making do with what he had. A harness, crude but serviceable, was already taking shape.

When he was done, Damien’s gaze flicked up, meeting the woman’s eyes over the cub’s head, steady and unflinching but not combative. He held out the makeshift harness to the woman, if she wanted to put it on the cub herself. “I’m Damien, by the way. That's Aria. We’re from Halo. I’ll keep her leashed from here on, at least until we’re somewhere safer.” His voice softened, carrying a thread of sincerity beneath the gravel. “And I owe you more than thanks for catching her. Surely I can repay you, somehow.”

Damien

but only a few will see you