I will never let you fall

Every wound will shape me...

Time has seemed to slip through her fingers as of late. She shakes her head restlessly, as if to cast away those days where she did not have Eriadne by her side. Days she had never prepared for and ones that she prays will never come again. "Almost a season," she whispers, pain drawing little lines in the corners of her eyes, in the downturn of her mouth.

Nephele folds into Eriadne's protective embrace, going wherever those hands guide her. Her first cradle, the ones that had patched her skinned knees and shoved her into brambles alike. A choked-up laugh escapes her as her sister's sticky hand smooths through her hair. Normally it would send her caterwauling up the nearest tree, but she doesn't care right now. Instead she presses closer, heedless of the sludge that coats her sister's body, and tries to ignore the reality of the words Eriadne speaks. Though she knows them to be true, she can't stand the idea of imprisoning her own twin sister.

"I don't want to lock you away like a monster," her voice wavers alongside the tears that blur her vision."I...the pit could work. But I swear we're fixing it as fast as we can. I don't want to leave you again," and here is the unsaid pleading, the quiet beg that Eriadne does not force her to do so. But she knows deep inside that she has to. That Eriadne will make her. Even if only to finish her task, she must leave. Even if it tears her heart out to have her sister back for only the briefest of moments, just to abandon her once more.

Every scar will build my throne