-Zavien-
Taking the tease like a champ, he laughs a little brighter, tipping his bottle to her as if to mark a point in her favor. "More than once. But I'm still standing." Covered in dried sweat and caked in dirt - but standing, nonetheless. The picture of grit and determination propped on a porch railing in his socks.
Grateful that Colt has deemed him worthy of mercy, Zavien manages to catch the softening of her features. The barrier of humor and playful banter gives way to something genuine, a sympathy that feels less like pity and more like the respectful acknowledgement of loss and grief and unimaginable hurt. She doesn't shy from honesty or truth, having the decency to give him an answer that's considerate and thoroughly contemplated. He doesn't want her to feel the pain or depress her with thoughts of something that would likely never happen (LOL), but he appreciates how she puts in the effort to understand, to spend a moment in his boots and see the world through his eyes.
The smell of sizzling meat is a siren song to his companion, who sits eagerly at Colt's feet in hopes of a stray piece. Zavien is similarly distracted by the grilling, although he vaguely catches the draw of her lip and the steadying reliance on her own drink. His sigh joins hers in a huff of amusement, recalling the dread he used to hold, the darkness that threatened to consume him when return seemed unlikely. It feels so distant now - numb. Now the city was fractured, half of it lost to the bottom of the ocean and there's nothing he can do about it. There's no repairing that, and no 'home' to go back to. The hope he'd once cultivated and nurtured so diligently has nowhere to go - nothing to latch onto - and yet the culmination of all his fears has turned out to be less dramatic than he'd expected. The loss still hurts and he wishes it could have been prevented, but the dark despair that used to eat at him is nowhere to be found, leaving nothing but confusing uncertainty.
Shrugging his shoulders, Zavien accepts Colt's optimism with a confirming nod of his own. "I will." He smiles, chuckling so softly that it catches in the breeze like a plume of smoke when he says, "I just need to figure out which way to go first." Then it would just be a matter of setting a course and following the path, something he'd never been good at but diligently tried anyways.
He takes another sip of his beer, letting the heaviness of the topic dissipate into the growing chill of the night air. Instead, a glint forms in the shadowed green of his eyes, a teasing smirk forming on his lips when he reassures Colt, "For what it's worth, you still have plenty of time to turn out like Edith." And she wouldn't even have to leave the comfort of her ranch.
Grateful that Colt has deemed him worthy of mercy, Zavien manages to catch the softening of her features. The barrier of humor and playful banter gives way to something genuine, a sympathy that feels less like pity and more like the respectful acknowledgement of loss and grief and unimaginable hurt. She doesn't shy from honesty or truth, having the decency to give him an answer that's considerate and thoroughly contemplated. He doesn't want her to feel the pain or depress her with thoughts of something that would likely never happen (LOL), but he appreciates how she puts in the effort to understand, to spend a moment in his boots and see the world through his eyes.
The smell of sizzling meat is a siren song to his companion, who sits eagerly at Colt's feet in hopes of a stray piece. Zavien is similarly distracted by the grilling, although he vaguely catches the draw of her lip and the steadying reliance on her own drink. His sigh joins hers in a huff of amusement, recalling the dread he used to hold, the darkness that threatened to consume him when return seemed unlikely. It feels so distant now - numb. Now the city was fractured, half of it lost to the bottom of the ocean and there's nothing he can do about it. There's no repairing that, and no 'home' to go back to. The hope he'd once cultivated and nurtured so diligently has nowhere to go - nothing to latch onto - and yet the culmination of all his fears has turned out to be less dramatic than he'd expected. The loss still hurts and he wishes it could have been prevented, but the dark despair that used to eat at him is nowhere to be found, leaving nothing but confusing uncertainty.
Shrugging his shoulders, Zavien accepts Colt's optimism with a confirming nod of his own. "I will." He smiles, chuckling so softly that it catches in the breeze like a plume of smoke when he says, "I just need to figure out which way to go first." Then it would just be a matter of setting a course and following the path, something he'd never been good at but diligently tried anyways.
He takes another sip of his beer, letting the heaviness of the topic dissipate into the growing chill of the night air. Instead, a glint forms in the shadowed green of his eyes, a teasing smirk forming on his lips when he reassures Colt, "For what it's worth, you still have plenty of time to turn out like Edith." And she wouldn't even have to leave the comfort of her ranch.
Life is getting up one more time
than you've been knocked down.
than you've been knocked down.
