a lot of people will look at you
Aria
“Then I’ll learn to sail,” he said simply. No edge, no bluff — just fact, as though he’d already set his mind to it. “Don’t need mercy, and I’ve no plans to drown. You throw me overboard, I’ll just climb back up and keep working.”
Aria punctuated that statement with a soft mrrp, as if she believed him, head tilting toward the captain. The heat from the lava vent wavered around them, distorting everything into some kind of motion — the ropes, the cliffs, the dark glint of Thalassa’s horns.
Damien took one last look at her then, the set of her shoulders and the calm command that still clung to her even here, in the glow of something half dangerous, half alive. She was a strange one — sharp where most people were not, honest in a way that didn’t need polish. He could respect that.
“Torchline it is.” He said simply, and so it was settled. Whatever the reasons for preferring Torchline to Halo, Damien didn't begrudge most people for it, least of all Ancients. He was pretty sure they don't like the cold, but don't quote him on that.
He gave a final tug of the rope, and Aria tumbled after him, tail flicking with satisfaction. As if she planned the whole thing.
“Until next time, Captain,” he added after a pause, voice lower, rough with a warmth that sat behind his dry tone.
With that, he turned back toward the smoldering path that led down from Apopo, the cub trotting at his side. The two shapes—one broad, one small and white—faded into the haze, swallowed by heat and steam.
fin
Damien
but only a few will see you
