Some people crash two or three times and then learn from their mistakes
We are the ones who don't slow down at all
We are the ones who don't slow down at all
She could fly to the Greatwood with greater ease, she knows. Still she knows her wings are the least familiar forms of those granted to her. It is a bittersweet memory to recall Remi's promise to teach her to learn them - she only prays all is not lost, that a chemical imbalance that broke the woman who never faltered will not strip her of potential moments and days with the father of her children. He is one of the few she still has these days. Or so she hopes, with how they'd parted last she'd seen him.
The snow beneath her paws scarcely crunches at all. Her golden fur is warmer than what she'd initially come to King's End wearing at the tail end of autumn, even if the bloodless landscape is not meant for her gold and russet tones. It matters little. She is not trying to hide - has nobody to hide from. Nobody is seeking her. Nobody is looking. She can't remember the last time she was this alone, and it seems only fitting that she ruminates upon it as she passes through well-tended burial grounds.
It makes it all the more obvious when there is another soul out in the snow then. At first she intends to walk right past, leaving them to their visitation and mourning. Only...she knows him, even from the corner of her eye. The set of his shoulders, the way he walks, the exact shade of his hair beneath the grey overcast sky. Things that will never fade from her memory even with the ashes of everything she'd burned between them. She hesitates for a moment before turning towards him. Call it loneliness or a moment of weakness, Hotaru doesn't have the heart to examine her desires. Though she does shift back to her human form as she approaches, guarding her heart from the bond - too inexperienced to trust her control with it. "Sunjata?" It's soft but clear in the snowy air. Painfully reminiscent of the very first day they'd met, both collecting snow moss. She stands, arms somewhere between crossed and hugging herself, a little underdressed, and out of place in more ways than one.
The snow beneath her paws scarcely crunches at all. Her golden fur is warmer than what she'd initially come to King's End wearing at the tail end of autumn, even if the bloodless landscape is not meant for her gold and russet tones. It matters little. She is not trying to hide - has nobody to hide from. Nobody is seeking her. Nobody is looking. She can't remember the last time she was this alone, and it seems only fitting that she ruminates upon it as she passes through well-tended burial grounds.
It makes it all the more obvious when there is another soul out in the snow then. At first she intends to walk right past, leaving them to their visitation and mourning. Only...she knows him, even from the corner of her eye. The set of his shoulders, the way he walks, the exact shade of his hair beneath the grey overcast sky. Things that will never fade from her memory even with the ashes of everything she'd burned between them. She hesitates for a moment before turning towards him. Call it loneliness or a moment of weakness, Hotaru doesn't have the heart to examine her desires. Though she does shift back to her human form as she approaches, guarding her heart from the bond - too inexperienced to trust her control with it. "Sunjata?" It's soft but clear in the snowy air. Painfully reminiscent of the very first day they'd met, both collecting snow moss. She stands, arms somewhere between crossed and hugging herself, a little underdressed, and out of place in more ways than one.
And there's nobody there to catch us when we fall
HOTARU
