Hotaru
My head's a burial ground of your memory
Sunjata is not the only one capable of escaping the house undetected. She knows he does it, though she says nothing. Though it only makes it fair when she takes his absence as the cover necessary to do so herself, slipping out the back door to meet Atlas who carries her forth into the cover of preternatural darkness. There is no real destination in mind. Though she longs to find a shrine to pray at - who it is she would pray to is still up in the air with her current feelings - only silence is guaranteed during LongNight, and Hotaru is not inclined to tempt any darker entities into answering.
Instead she lowers herself to lay over the crest of Atlas' neck, breathing in the smell of him mixed with saltwater as the cadence of his steps rocks her into a half-sleep. Rest has not come easy since Sunjata's attack had led to nightmares that caused her to stay awake to keep sentry during his fitful hours of slumber. A small price to pay to ensure his comfort. Were it not for her own exhaustion she would be inclined to be grateful, as the dwindling hours that remain only reinforce her desire to be awake and present with him.
Wherever Atlas has taken her, it's unfamiliar to her. The gurgle of water is different from the ocean, and when she lifts her head the smooth rock that greets her has odd depths to it that implies colors that are muted at best with no lights in the skies. Atlas pauses, huffing softly as the clicking of his hooves echoes oddly across the empty rock, and the pair stare out in unison watching the water crest and burble on whims neither can anticipate.
