[SE] Roads we walk in the dark

There were benefits to giving oneself wholly over to a god, it was true. But there were also prices for such power, and consequences that Maea had witnessed in others in the past. Hadama wore Safrin's blessings well, however, buoyed up rather than bowed down by the weight of her regard as he navigated the reefs of his duties as demigod and king, and he stood tall even as he bent to proffer his hand.

Although he was strong he was still surprised at how light Maea had become. She rose like thistledown, featherlight and causing him to look more carefully into her face as she tilted her head up at him. Her smile was warm, if brief, and Hadama's stoic expression softened a little as he inclined his head in consideration of her question.

"First, care for yourself. A good meal is the foundation of happiness." And speaking of... He released her hand, but did not move away as he looked her over with concern rather than wariness this time. "When was the last time you ate?"

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Self care, huh. Not one of her stronger inclinations, she would admit, as the tended to forget about mundane things like food and sleep when the mind bent to a task. Whether that was focusing on work or delving into problems didn't matter much. Still, Hadama's obvious concern surprised her, unaware as she was of how she looked these days.

"Uh, I went hunting a few days ago. Does that count?" Digging into a pocket of the cloak she withdrew strips of dried meat, unflavored save for a light aroma of smoke. "It's nothing fancy, but I am eating. When I get hungry." Offering him a sample, Maea's expression was earnest as the attempted to reassure him.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

"Hmm." If his quiet hum was anything to go by, Hadama did not seem to agree that a hunt 'a few days ago' counted as self-care. He accepted the sample and turned it over in his fingers, noting the lack of spices. Of herbs. Of so much as salt for a flavoring. His lips twitched towards a subtle frown to hear that she ate only when she was hungry, especially if the jerky was any indication of what she was eating.

"This... will keep you alive," he admitted slowly. Reluctantly. "But does eating it make you happy?" For himself the answer was, clearly, a resounding 'no' even if he did not give it voice. Instead he contemplated the dried meat a little longer before turning away and heading for the entrance to the Cathedral, back out into the Burrows beyond. "It is... difficult. To forage in the Climb," he called over his shoulder. "But not impossible."

Did she wish to follow?

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

A light shrug indicated a certain indifference towards such things as personal enjoyment. Perhaps she shouldn't be surprised that Hadama would care about it, but she found it amusing that out of all the things, food was where he chose to begin.
"I mean... I've spent most of the time in a shift or other. As long as it's bloody neither the crow nor the tiger care about flavor." The bloodlust of her people forced her to hunt whether she enjoyed it or not, and undoubtedly it had kept her in better condition than back when she'd been Ascended. Or even Abandoned. 

When Hadama began to head for the exit, she hesitated only for a moment before following. Darting back to the alcove where she had been hiding, she snatched up a pack and hurried to catch up.
"What are we looking for?"

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

For the man who had been a chef before he had become a King it was, perhaps, not entirely surprising that he turned to food as a way to solve problems. A way to find comfort, and happiness, and belonging. A way to care for one's self and others, when his powers as a demigod and a King were insufficient.

"Hmm." He acknowledged the limits of Maea's shifts without, perhaps, agreeing with her. Given how little attention she paid to flavor in her two-legged form, he was not so quick to place the blame on the tongues of birds and cats. He paused at the entrance to the chamber to wait for her to catch up before he swung out into the tunnels, hunching down to avoid bumping his head on the rough protrusions in the roof. "Mushrooms." He glanced over his shoulder at her, a curious tilt to his chin. "And fresher meat." He paused thoughtfully. "And clean water." The rest he could handle with the supplies he habitually carried in his travel pack.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

His silence spoke volumes, leaving her chasticed and torn between embarrassment and amusement as she hurried along the long-legged demigod. Since Hadama clearly wasn't going to eat the strip of jerky, Maea popped it in her own mouth and chewed the tough meat, reflecting over its flavor... or lack thereof. There wasn't anything wrong with it. Tasted like sheep, and smoke, and a bit like pocket lint - she delicately picked that off her tongue and flicked it off a finger. Not a feast, perhaps... but it filled its function of keeping the body in motion.

This was about more than just the body, though. She knew it, and did her best not to fight the notion of accepting help. She needed It, asked for it... and Maea thought she owed it to Hadama to at least try. Even if, deep down, she felt beyond salvaging.

"Hm. I know the location of a freshwater spring not too far from here," she offered. "I can try hunting down some fresh meat if you look for the mushrooms?" Either together or by splitting up didn't matter - almost against her will, the ancient was curious about what her friend was going to do, and she was not about to vanish back into the shadows again.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

Her own silence spoke, perhaps, more than she realized as she contemplated the meat she had provided. He glanced back a few times as if to reassure himself that she remained with him, but at her suggestion he slowed to a halt, turning to look at her properly. He only contemplated her suggestion for a few moments before inclining his head in agreement. "Let us meet at the spring in an hour."

It was trust. He could not - would not - hold her back if she wished to fade away again. Not if that was what she truly desired, the only way she knew to find peace. But he could trust that if she said she would return to their meeting that she would be there.

He lingered one heartbeat. Two. And then he turned, long legs stretching to eat up the tunnels as he headed closer to the surface where soil and spores were more likely to have been blown into the protected entrances to the Burrows.

And in an hour's time he walked into the cavern that Maea had directed him to, the smell of the spring's fresh water filling the dry air and soothing his senses. A selection of mushrooms were held in a net bag at his side and he settled himself to wash them and begin slicing their soft flesh in preparation for the dish to come.

Depending, of course, on what meat Maea managed to procure.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

The lack of objections was at once heartening and humbling. Maea watched the king's receding back for a few moments longer, stirred by sentiment she couldn't quite name. When she finally moved, it was with a renewed determination. A whisper of wings saw her past Hadama and out into the open air, off across the Crust where prey was easier to spot.

She was a bit late in returning, and when she finally appeared it was in another guise, the white molten tiger dragging the carcass of a young pyrina by the neck. Somehow she had managed to abstain from making her meal out of the fresh meat alone, though the chase and subsequent kill had still left her chops and paws with a coating of crimson.

Dropping her trophy next to Hadama, the tiger leveled a pale golden stare at him, before it moved past him towards the spring. Even as it walked, it began to shimmer, and it was Maea who reached her hands into the trickle of water, to rinse the gore from hands and face. It was... embarrassing, to be seen like this. Like being caught without clothes, forced to confront sides of herself she had yet to fully embrace or accept.

Without saying anything she returned to start taking apart the meat, only looking up to see how the chef would like the meat prepared.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

He might have reacted differently if Maea's coloring had not been so striking. Not even the Tidebreaker took a molten tiger for granted, especially when he was so far from water. The white of her fur, however, marked her as surely as any jewelry or worn item would have, and so Hadama remained seated and finished slicing up his own catch as she moved to the spring to clean up.

"Thank you," he rumbled quietly. He looked the pyrina over thoughtfully, giving Maea the time and privacy she needed to clean up. It was similar enough to a rhampire that he felt comfortable with its anaomty and when she returned to the carcass he pointed out the choicest cuts of meat for them to begin with.

The last thing they needed was fire, but that was perhaps the simplest thing of all with Maea's abilities. Hadama removed a collapsible cooking pot from his pack, and the small set of herbs and spices that were tucked into it, setting several aside but choosing others. While she worked on slicing the meat - "Thinner, please," he murmured once, indicating with his fingers the very, very thin slices he required - he mixed several of the herbs in with half the mushrooms and then put them in the pot over the fire to sear.

"It would be better with dipping sauces. And more vegetables. But this will be... adequate for today." He allowed a brief flicker of pain to show, a fleeting grimace at being unable to provide a friend something better, but the Climb, Halo, and Hak Etme were the most difficult regions to forage in. Even he had his limits.

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Focusing on the task at hand helped. As equilibrium settled back in her, a certain tension bled from her body and returned some of the curiosity. But while she certainly cut the meat however Hadama wished, the rest was still cut into strips and laid out around the fire to cure. It made no sense to waste what could be dried and made to last for weeks.

"What are we making?" she asked, as the aroma of searing mushrooms mingled with that of the mutton. "I'm not very good at cooking, I'm afraid... Boiling and grilling is as good as it gets if I do it." Not for lack of trying; it was one thing she just didn't have a sense for. How Hadama managed to make her mouth water with nothing but a handful of ingredients was a mystery. The same materials that made jerky in her hands was made a feast in his, and she could only shake her head as her stomach churned loudly, reawakening to desires she'd written off as mere necessity. Food was only fuel, a necessary evil to keep the body moving. 

To be alive... was supposed to be about more than just surviving, though.

"Hadama? What do you think is the difference between Ancients, and everyone else?"

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

He saw what she was doing with the rest of the meat and pushed a couple of the packets of spices towards her, indicating that she was free to use them all to season the future-jerky. It would be a light seasoning in order to stretch over most of their catch, but better than the nothing that would have otherwise sufficed to sustain her. It gave the mushrooms time to cook down nicely in the meantime, and he finally moved to add water to the small pot before returning it to the fire. It would take a little while to boil, but they had time. And seasons of conversation to catch up on.

"Mmh. Today, we will be boiling," he assured her, eyes regaining some of their old twinkle at the growling of her stomach. "Half the mushrooms mixed with herbs to make the broth. Salt and pepper. Garlic and mint. Thyme and rosemary." He pointed to each spice packet as he named them. The rest of the mushrooms had been set aside in thin lengthwise slices with the paper-thin slices of pyrina he'd had her cut, waiting for the water to reach a boil.

Her question drew his head into a contemplative tilt as he considered it. "Mmh. Do you think Ancients are more different from humans than Fae or Mer?"

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Obediently she added the spices to her jerky. To be honest, it was something she would have done normally. Back when she cared to try, and didn't find raw meat to be appetizing. Probably there was some scraps of salt near the bottom of her pack too, though she hadn't opened it in a while to examine the contents. It was habit that had her lug the thing around anyway. In the Climb, it was easier to travel in animal form, and all she needed was right there; hot pools to soak in, ample food, rocky ledges and crevices to shelter in at night. It could have been a peaceful existence, if she only allowed the mind of the tiger to take over and stopped worrying.

Alas, if she could do that, she wouldn't have been hiding out here in the first place. Instead of being at ease with herself and the world around her, she sat flipping jerky so that it would dry evenly, waiting for a pot to boil so that Hadama could remind her what it meant to share a meal with a friend. "Oh, that's good. Will it become a soup, or stew?"

Twisting a handful of flame into a miniature fire devil beneath the pot, hoping it would make the water boil faster, she considered. "Mmh, yes. I've never heard of either Fae or Mer experiencing the bloodlust. Have you?" He would know more about the mer than she, of course. "From what I've read, they are Rae's creations. While the Ancients are of Dygra." It could be a pointless difference that didn't mean anything, but it could also be all the difference in the world. "It just seems like the ancients are more... pure predator, if you know what I mean?" Certainly there were mer that had carnivorous shifts, but did their instincts ever override the human ability to reason?
"I just ask because... sometimes I wonder what I am. There's thoughts and feelings in my head that don't feel like me. Not like the way I used to be, at least. I want to be a kind, caring person that helps others, not hurts them. But that doesn't really... match up with what this body is telling me to do." Touching a palm to the space above her heart, Maea frowned softly as she watched the simmering water. It felt awkward, trying to explain what had been bothering her so much that she withdrew from him - him and others besides - but she thought she ought to try.

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3

"Broth, eventually. But that is not what we will be eating." Emerald eyes twinkled with the promise of a culinary surprise as he pulled a pair of delicately tapered wooden sticks from his pouch, carved from salt-blackened driftwood and with green pearls set into the wider ends. "I have not," he confirmed to her first question. "But I have not heard of Mer being born with wings. Or Fae having aquatic forms." Still, he nodded slowly as he considered what she said about predators. He continued to listen as he lifted a piece of mushroom with the sticks and dipped it into the water that was finally beginning to bubble. He held it there, giving it time to cook, though as thin as the slice was, it didn't take long.

He lifted it to his lips, testing the temperature before checking the flavor. He hummed quietly to himself, then selected the garlic and added an extra pinch to the water that was now bubbling steadily. "There are Mer who are predatory," he said slowly. "Some of the sharks. The orcas." If she had met Kaiden she would not need to wonder at all. "And I have heard stories of Halo. Humans there who once preyed on and ate other humans." He paused to lift a thin strip of meat next and dip it into the water. The heat boiled it quickly and his sharp eyes noted the change in color as it swiftly cooked through. He lifted it and gave it a slight shake to remove the excess drops back into the pot before putting it in his mouth. This time he nodded in satisfaction and then handed the chopsticks to Maea.

"Can you make use of these new instincts? To be a hunter to feed the hungry. Or a guardian to protect others?"

Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words

Pulling her knees up against the chest, Maea wrapped her arms around them as the watched the fire dance. The flickering light and the soft snap and crack of smoldering embers soothed some of her anxiety, though the way her heart slammed against the ribcage it was a wonder Hadama didn't hear it. Was it really a comfort to know that even some merfolk had sharp teeth and odd appetites? It didn't offer her any escape. Only suggested what she already knew, which was that she didn't have a choice but to get over it.
"Are they accepted, those sharks and orcas?" Picking at a spot on her skirt, Maea couldn't quite bring herself to look at the Tidebreaker. "Do your people trust them? Even though they could turn on those around them? Lose control..? The cannibals in Halo were not. I think one of the Wardens exterminated most of them..." Had it been Neron, or Morgan? She couldn't remember the details.

A pair of finely made sticks appeared in her field of vision. Looking up, Maea gazed between the utensils and Hadama, hesitantly accepting them from his hand. She struggled to hold them like he had, despite the way they twisted in her grasp. "This is a lot harder than it looks..." With deep concentration she tried to pick up a slice of the meat, fumbling and dropping it several times before a sort of almost functional grip was achieved. "Now what? I just dip it?"

It was a nice thought, to direct any impulses towards a good cause. It still meant giving in to them, though. "I don't know... Maybe? But what if... if I get so used to blood and death that I stop caring about doing good? Already this thing in my head doesn't make a difference between people and prey. I'm afraid – afraid of what will happen the next time it takes over. I might really kill someone this time." It hadn't been bloodlust that made her hurt Thalassa, but the event blended into her pre-existing worries, tangling concerns into a hopeless mess. "I just don't trust myself anymore. Haven't for a long time."

Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts

base inspired by Odd <3