runaway

KIADA you love each other, you do, and here's the tragedy; it's not enough. If Deimos thinks she is upset with him, he is mistaken. She doesn’t miss the movement within all the fog, nor the large man that approaches on quiet feet. The rumble of his voice with her name takes her back – a time when he had called her before everyone else. Had praised her for her good work. Had made her wish he had been her father instead of the Elephant King. But then he died, and like many confusing terrible things in this world, he breathes and stands, is younger and stronger – with the weight of the many different worlds and memories on his shoulders. She, too, feels the weight. And the Harpy tightens her arms around her companion as her pale head lifts and iceberg gaze slips to meet Deimos’. She says nothing, she will not tell him to leave. If anything, she’s happy he’s found her before Zariah ends up tossing him somewhere she can’t reach him. She contemplates signing up for the army as well, but has refrained. (The girl hasn’t seen Amalia’s name on the sheet yet). He approaches, stretching down to scratch Auni – his antlers glowing a small amount more as he contemplates disregarding his companion to soothe Deimos, too. Yet they both are in a state of disarray, distraught with the way things have so suddenly turned, and she turns her head to Deimos as she sits along the bleached bridge – eyes lingering on him as he rests his elbows on the bridge. “I’m not mad at you.” She says quietly, as though it were something he worried about. “I just don’t want you to go.” Her voice grows quieter – an admittance and a vulnerability that only few would see. you are allowed; to watch the sun swallow him whole and burn him up, to stain your fingers to the bone holding him together. to count the constellations in his eyes as they blink out. but you are not allowed to save him...