who we are and all that we're trying to be
His eyes caught Amalia’s; but he had no inclination of derision towards Halo itself. Too mountain-infused and immersed from previous lives to ever think ill of mountains, ice, rime, or summits; just the results of their expedition warring across his skin, his flesh. He placed the responsibility and blame upon themselves and Sunjata; not the land. Not addressed in the quiet, his eyes fell back to the lanterns.
Irritated slightly at how the fabric had played out in his hands, his layered and lacquered his concentration into the prowess, into the precision. His father and mother deserved that much – not this misshapen, haphazard display. In the midst of his silence, he maneuvered deftly, attempting to once more ensure they were more than shambles, the fire blooming, curling in the corners, the watery abyss swallowing the void.
No sighs given in his frustration, just a mere tilt of his head and a tighter clench to his jaw. The candles would hopefully hold up within the lantern’s sanction, grabbing a few to place them within, hands and fingers intended to be steady, striving to withhold some amount of respect for parents long since deceased.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
