if it doesn't burn a little
Weaver lets her go without another word. Alina reminded her of talking to a brick wall, if she was being honest. The fae simply wanted to be stubborn. Remind you of someone? says her brother’s voice in her head. She always wonders if that is really what he would have sounded like, or if her recollection has changed him, shaped him into something slightly different.
Weaver lets the small bit of flame around her hand drift back to the fire. ”It’d be better if you were here,” she says quietly to the fire. He would have handled all of this better. Korbin and his sour mood. Weaver and her short fuse. He’d been their rock, and without him, she felt like the Hale siblings had drifted out to sea without an anchor.
Eventually, Weaver smothers the fire with some snow and magic, collects her things, and makes her way back to the Citadel. No amount of mourning would bring him back.
(finished)
Weaver lets the small bit of flame around her hand drift back to the fire. ”It’d be better if you were here,” she says quietly to the fire. He would have handled all of this better. Korbin and his sour mood. Weaver and her short fuse. He’d been their rock, and without him, she felt like the Hale siblings had drifted out to sea without an anchor.
Eventually, Weaver smothers the fire with some snow and magic, collects her things, and makes her way back to the Citadel. No amount of mourning would bring him back.
(finished)
-- weaver
then what's the point in playing with fire?
