Hotaru
What if we're all just sleeping satellites
Why do we drift so far from home
Why do we drift so far from home
Seren’s words of comfort have brought her here at last. There is no further time for waiting, worrying. Each day she grows a little bigger, the swell of life prominent on her petite frame. Remi knows now. Deimos...doesn’t. Precisely why she must do this now. Her best friend would not hesitate to bar her from their plans and efforts the moment he knew she was pregnant, and so she must have an answer already in place before she can tell him the news - or before he figures it out himself.
The shrine in the Sea of Glass is more appealing to Hotaru than the one in the Citadel. Isolated, open. Nothing but the sea and sky for miles. Just her and the tiny extra heartbeat that she carries.
Bundled more heavily than normal, it’s difficult to kneel, but she takes the moment to appreciate not currently being the size of a whale. It will happen, she’s sure of it. Experience alone attests to that. At her side is the same wicker basket she’d used for her last offering, filled this time with edible snowberries and their dark leaves, clustered around one of the glass pendant samples she’d made for Maeve (before throwing them off the table to have sex on the rug).
“Frey, I know you gave me your time not long ago, but I am in need of your help.” Praying aloud comforts her, and the mild wind steals the sound, no mortal ears around to hear it.
The shrine in the Sea of Glass is more appealing to Hotaru than the one in the Citadel. Isolated, open. Nothing but the sea and sky for miles. Just her and the tiny extra heartbeat that she carries.
Bundled more heavily than normal, it’s difficult to kneel, but she takes the moment to appreciate not currently being the size of a whale. It will happen, she’s sure of it. Experience alone attests to that. At her side is the same wicker basket she’d used for her last offering, filled this time with edible snowberries and their dark leaves, clustered around one of the glass pendant samples she’d made for Maeve (before throwing them off the table to have sex on the rug).
“Frey, I know you gave me your time not long ago, but I am in need of your help.” Praying aloud comforts her, and the mild wind steals the sound, no mortal ears around to hear it.
Why do we wake ourselves from paradise
Where we will never be alone
Where we will never be alone
