If I could, I would walk alone
The voices of the Speaking Squirrels break over the little gathering in an abrupt, shrill tumble, and Vesper’s gaze lifts before he can stop it. People almost never manage to surprise him, not with his magic, but the squirrels come all at once and blank as stones beneath his telepathy, their enthusiasm crashing into the morning without warning. As Colt arrives, his eyes have already fallen back toward the soft ground by the wagon, but he knows the exact moment hers find him.
It's there in the sudden change of her mind: the bright, forward momentum of arrival shearing sharply aside beneath something heavier, harder, edged in all the ways he has trained himself not to reach for. Vesper doesn’t need to look up to see her; the shape of her reaction lands with enough clarity that it might as well have been spoken directly into his ear. And when she turns the small, furious weight of it toward Sunjata—when the Archon answers in that low, apologetic way—Vesper catches the outline of that too, in her mind, just as clearly.
His jaw feathers furiously for a moment as he stands, gaze on the grass. She'd pulled him into the desert and when he’d gone north to make certain she was all right, he'd found nothing but empty distance for the effort. After that, the letter: a neat little thank-you and fuck-you all in one.
Apparently he is still useful in exactly the ways she decides he is. A weapon when she needs one, a problem when she doesn’t. The thought turns bitter before he can stop it, and Vesper presses his teeth together until the line of his mouth goes thin. Usually, he might have looked toward Niki then, found some dry thing to say about maps or his limp, but instead, he pushes away from the wagon.
The ground shifts beneath his boots only for the span of a breath before his shape changes with it. Black spills where he had been standing: tall, equine, solid through the shoulders and dark enough to swallow the thin Flowerbirth light, save for the faint scatter of stars along his flank. His ears flick once toward the herd in the distance, but most importantly, being shifted blocked out his telepathy. Colt’s thoughts cut off from him, and with them the accusing press of everything she has not said aloud.
Vesper lowers his head briefly, drawing in the cold scent of thawing earth and horses and the distant, strange sweetness of unicorns, then turns his attention toward the route ahead.
Vesper shifts!
It's there in the sudden change of her mind: the bright, forward momentum of arrival shearing sharply aside beneath something heavier, harder, edged in all the ways he has trained himself not to reach for. Vesper doesn’t need to look up to see her; the shape of her reaction lands with enough clarity that it might as well have been spoken directly into his ear. And when she turns the small, furious weight of it toward Sunjata—when the Archon answers in that low, apologetic way—Vesper catches the outline of that too, in her mind, just as clearly.
His jaw feathers furiously for a moment as he stands, gaze on the grass. She'd pulled him into the desert and when he’d gone north to make certain she was all right, he'd found nothing but empty distance for the effort. After that, the letter: a neat little thank-you and fuck-you all in one.
Apparently he is still useful in exactly the ways she decides he is. A weapon when she needs one, a problem when she doesn’t. The thought turns bitter before he can stop it, and Vesper presses his teeth together until the line of his mouth goes thin. Usually, he might have looked toward Niki then, found some dry thing to say about maps or his limp, but instead, he pushes away from the wagon.
The ground shifts beneath his boots only for the span of a breath before his shape changes with it. Black spills where he had been standing: tall, equine, solid through the shoulders and dark enough to swallow the thin Flowerbirth light, save for the faint scatter of stars along his flank. His ears flick once toward the herd in the distance, but most importantly, being shifted blocked out his telepathy. Colt’s thoughts cut off from him, and with them the accusing press of everything she has not said aloud.
Vesper lowers his head briefly, drawing in the cold scent of thawing earth and horses and the distant, strange sweetness of unicorns, then turns his attention toward the route ahead.
Vesper shifts!
Vesper
I would burn the bridge, I would right the wrongs
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
