Hotaru
Kings End shouldn’t feel so welcoming to her with all that had happened within its borders, and yet she is drawn to it time and time again. It’s no surprise Deimos and Noah had made their mark here in the end. She has yet to seek either out - trying to find a rhythm again in the wake of returning to the twins, to Remi, to herself. Hotaru has never been a woman in want of a plan, of goals.
Now, she has nothing. Aimless, wandering. It is both peaceful in its novelty and terrifying in its uncharacteristic presence in one such as herself.
She is practicing her flight when she sees Loki below. Her heart stutters, and the woman beneath the hawk’s instincts rears her head, fumbling the next easy stroke of wings. Aware she is in no place to fly now, the Valkyrie descends a distance from the pair, perching on a branch with talons that grow steadier with every day. She sits and listens for a moment, torn.
It would be easy to ignore them. To pretend she had not seen them.
She remembers pale hands on her own golden skin, the first bite of fangs against her inner thigh.
A hand that had held her own.
Sighing, she sheds her feathers and drops down into the snow. Hotaru may be a snake, but she’s no coward. Wessex certainly won’t understand - Hotaru dislikes Safrin to put it nicely, and they’d commiserated over it too many times for Wessex not to know. Hotaru couldn’t lie to the Wraith the way she did everyone else and say she’d invaded Halo on Safrin’s orders. But what use were apologies when the Ascended has retaken Halo, when the war was looming closer, when Hotaru now bore the mark of Frey’s Attunement?
It hurts to love not one but two people she cannot allow herself to.
At least her gait is steady as she approaches. Deceivingly so. “I don’t think even memory snow can do her justice, but I’d like to see you try.” The lightness of her tone is offset by the dark set of her eyes. She is tired of losing people - even because of her own actions - but she’d rather get it over with quickly. Like ripping off a bandaid.
Now, she has nothing. Aimless, wandering. It is both peaceful in its novelty and terrifying in its uncharacteristic presence in one such as herself.
She is practicing her flight when she sees Loki below. Her heart stutters, and the woman beneath the hawk’s instincts rears her head, fumbling the next easy stroke of wings. Aware she is in no place to fly now, the Valkyrie descends a distance from the pair, perching on a branch with talons that grow steadier with every day. She sits and listens for a moment, torn.
It would be easy to ignore them. To pretend she had not seen them.
She remembers pale hands on her own golden skin, the first bite of fangs against her inner thigh.
A hand that had held her own.
Sighing, she sheds her feathers and drops down into the snow. Hotaru may be a snake, but she’s no coward. Wessex certainly won’t understand - Hotaru dislikes Safrin to put it nicely, and they’d commiserated over it too many times for Wessex not to know. Hotaru couldn’t lie to the Wraith the way she did everyone else and say she’d invaded Halo on Safrin’s orders. But what use were apologies when the Ascended has retaken Halo, when the war was looming closer, when Hotaru now bore the mark of Frey’s Attunement?
It hurts to love not one but two people she cannot allow herself to.
At least her gait is steady as she approaches. Deceivingly so. “I don’t think even memory snow can do her justice, but I’d like to see you try.” The lightness of her tone is offset by the dark set of her eyes. She is tired of losing people - even because of her own actions - but she’d rather get it over with quickly. Like ripping off a bandaid.
what I did, do, to me and you, keeps me awake
if I were a ghost, you'd be the proof
if I were a ghost, you'd be the proof
