Elide
Deimos listens to her, and she is glad to be heard deeply when she is so often hesitant to speak on her own emotions. Even alone, they are hard to face. She would rather be like him as he is in this moment; a statue, grave and unmoved by the forces that bind so many others to their emotional whims. Perhaps she had still fallen to that weakness, in a way, all the while thinking she had been strong when really she was numb.
So when he speaks, and he speaks of surviving and being enough... and it strikes that chord within her, to hear such feelings finally put to words. She swallows, a needless mechanic for her and yet she does it anyway. Maybe out of habit, maybe because these things are simply hard to swallow.
'And ultimately, it does not matter. Because we cannot go back.'
She shifts where she stands, moved by the phrasing and not because she has never heard it, nor thought it; not because she doesn't know it. But, somehow, here and now, it's moving all the same. She follows his gaze down to the water, finding where he's sequestered it into something more than a still puddle lying on the icy ground. For several long moments, she lets the silence draw out between them - and yet she doesn't feel as if it's ill-placed. A moment of silence for all that's been lost, and for what they may lose in the dark, unknown future.
And when their eyes meet again, Elide steps toward him. "Deimos... do you remember being a child and thinking that nothing could stop you? Will you relive those days with me - just for a moment - before we must both move on?"
She then extends her slender hand with its fresher callouses, her palm facing the dark gray sky. There's a longing here, for days of old and of youthful innocence. A resilience could be seen in those times, in the wonder and ambition of children striving to always become more through their wildness and laughter. Picking themselves up out of the muck and bounding forth once more.
Should he take her hand, she will lead the way across only the largest pools of water gathered from the rain, where glacial mountains preside in the spirit of it and waterfalls cascade around them to encourage their energies.
So when he speaks, and he speaks of surviving and being enough... and it strikes that chord within her, to hear such feelings finally put to words. She swallows, a needless mechanic for her and yet she does it anyway. Maybe out of habit, maybe because these things are simply hard to swallow.
'And ultimately, it does not matter. Because we cannot go back.'
She shifts where she stands, moved by the phrasing and not because she has never heard it, nor thought it; not because she doesn't know it. But, somehow, here and now, it's moving all the same. She follows his gaze down to the water, finding where he's sequestered it into something more than a still puddle lying on the icy ground. For several long moments, she lets the silence draw out between them - and yet she doesn't feel as if it's ill-placed. A moment of silence for all that's been lost, and for what they may lose in the dark, unknown future.
And when their eyes meet again, Elide steps toward him. "Deimos... do you remember being a child and thinking that nothing could stop you? Will you relive those days with me - just for a moment - before we must both move on?"
She then extends her slender hand with its fresher callouses, her palm facing the dark gray sky. There's a longing here, for days of old and of youthful innocence. A resilience could be seen in those times, in the wonder and ambition of children striving to always become more through their wildness and laughter. Picking themselves up out of the muck and bounding forth once more.
Should he take her hand, she will lead the way across only the largest pools of water gathered from the rain, where glacial mountains preside in the spirit of it and waterfalls cascade around them to encourage their energies.
never before had the song of war
been the song of hope ascending
been the song of hope ascending
