thousand times I've fallen

KIADA you kneel and say your prayers with shaking hands and a mouth full of metal but the blood in your mouth tastes nothing He turns his head back toward her, and she sucks in a breath, her iceberg eyes focusing on the pale lines of his face, at the vacancy within them, and she understands. But it does no good to sit there and try to relate to him, how could it? Nobody wanted to hear that someone else had been there before, too, nobody else wanted to hear that someone else had it equally as bad as them when they were at their lowest. His deep voice rumbles, flatly, and she sighs out her nose – watching him focus on the ceiling as she frowns. “No.” She says quietly, but equally as strong as before. She couldn’t have let him go, couldn’t have let him continue on the trek to the dragon, not when it would result in nothing but more and more death. But that’s what she was sorry for, sorry for Weaver’s departure, sorry for running into him hard enough that he fell to the icy ground and cracked those ribs. She hadn’t meant it, but she had meant to stop him from going after it. So she leans forward, trying to lift her hands to his head, fingers trailing through dark hair as she tries to fit the makeshift pillow beneath his neck and head before she settles on her hands planted on either side of him, peering down at him. “I couldn’t.” nothing, like holy wine as it drips from your tongue during confession and your hail mary feels h o l l o w in the face of all that r e d