I lost who I was, forgot myself in the hands of someone who didn't know me
I'm slowly undoing their devastation, unfolding the corners
I'm slowly undoing their devastation, unfolding the corners
The sweat will keep them thinly layered for now, but both are too familiar with living in such otherwise inhospitable lands to linger in the frost for too long lest it chill against their skin. It makes leaning the shovels against the spa and hustling inside for food all the more appealing, and as she finishes her own last stretch of cobblestone her stomach gives a smaller but no less audible gurgle of protest. It breaks the slightly tense silence, and she cracks a tired grin Deimos’ way. She doesn’t begrudge him the revelation, never could even if she needed a target for her emotions. But she knows he likely feels as helpless as she does, which is why she so intentionally changes the subject.
His needling makes her laugh as she puts her shovel back, reaching to pinch at his waist with slightly tired limbs. “I can draw blood now if you like,” she taunts, the wind-born color in her cheeks making her seem more alive, less exhausted and drained than she has been. Maneuvering the door to allow them both inside, she kicks off her shoes in the entry to let the snow melt off them and down into the mat that is left there for that exact purpose. Atlas has no such compunctions as he trails behind them to greedily lay beside the fire as he always does, trailing snow from his hooves. Hotaru’s exasperation is fond as she follows behind on socked feet to check on the bubbling stew. “I hope so. I can’t stay out of this war, it’s not in my nature. But if I’m to align myself with anyone, it would be them.” The slowest acting poison of the lot. Spooning out the stew, she places a spoon in his bowl and hands it to him first before she obtains her own to sit with. Cradling the bowl for a moment to defrost her fingers before she begins to eat.
His needling makes her laugh as she puts her shovel back, reaching to pinch at his waist with slightly tired limbs. “I can draw blood now if you like,” she taunts, the wind-born color in her cheeks making her seem more alive, less exhausted and drained than she has been. Maneuvering the door to allow them both inside, she kicks off her shoes in the entry to let the snow melt off them and down into the mat that is left there for that exact purpose. Atlas has no such compunctions as he trails behind them to greedily lay beside the fire as he always does, trailing snow from his hooves. Hotaru’s exasperation is fond as she follows behind on socked feet to check on the bubbling stew. “I hope so. I can’t stay out of this war, it’s not in my nature. But if I’m to align myself with anyone, it would be them.” The slowest acting poison of the lot. Spooning out the stew, she places a spoon in his bowl and hands it to him first before she obtains her own to sit with. Cradling the bowl for a moment to defrost her fingers before she begins to eat.
and picking up the pieces that were chiseled away
HOTARU
