who we are and all that we're trying to be
Light and ambience, a differing sway from everything else lacquered and stuck to them – pooling into his hands, curling and coiling over skin like the ocean, like the sea, like essences of frigid, glacial moments, spread far and away from here. It was an effervescence not meant for him, but he’d take it to her, to the Shield, to at least impart soothing, mending contortions to her body. He wasn’t sure what to do about her soul or her heart. So he nodded in understanding, then lowered his palms, digits tucking into his palm for a moment, lungs remembering how to breathe, mouth remembering how to work. “Thank you.”
The note of the ring had one hand sliding into a pocket, producing the box he’d kept and contained them within, eyes picking out the one he’d created for Amalia within an instant. Then, just as he’d done before, he raised it aloft to the goddess, for blessings, for things beyond his capabilities, the sway of the leaves, the soil, the bone (another fringe of regret, Adam’s efforts a haunting thing) surrounding and pervading.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
