(o) you're not the same, you died along the way

SUNJATA

the flood

i'm nothing more than a page unwritten
on the pavement, blowing in the wind

The frame, pieced together and bent with pieces of thin metal wiring, comes together with a surprising amount of ease. The ridges and bends in it sharp if one isn’t careful, something he intends to cover up with the other bits and pieces he’s brought to help decorate the piece. His wings do well to prevent the wind from billowing it out, at least temporarily so – because there’s a soft voice that colors the air between them, that has those wings flexing and flaring, the top points where the claw juts out glinting against the faded light of the cloud cover as he uses his wings to try and hide the multitude of things that cross his mind.

Eventually, though, they lift again back into the space they had just been, lowered enough for him to shift his attention from the basic frame of the lantern toward Maea – seeing that their agreement is fully understood, that they weren’t going to try and avoid one another if one could help it – not having to step on eggshells in the space they both intended to live for the moment.

“Hmm.” He rumbles, casting a glance in her direction, huffing a quiet, hidden smile on his face that tugs the scar on his face. “Couldn’t tell you.” He opts for jesting, wings flaring slightly as he sets the frame down and leans back on an elbow. “Maybe its in the name?” He suggests, cocking an eyebrow her way but making it welcoming enough for her to come closer should she wish to.

you win a lot, and you lose
just a little bit more than you gained in the end