It's a feeling we always chase

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Evening darkened into night as she made her way from Hale Ka'aila and up to the rocky cliffs of Aumakua. Guided by the pulsing magical light and the blue glow of her companion, Maea tried to take her time. Keep her pace slow, measured, not eager at all. Because it would be a while before Sunjata caught up with her, if his talk with Loren dragged out. Ideally it would only be a quick chat and some patching up of the many injuries the Flood had sustained in scuffles and arguments, but... with those two, you never knew.

Maea suspected she might end up being a source of some discussion betwen them... and the thought did not sit entirely well with her.

She made it to the lighthouse in one piece, and picked her way around its base to the cliffs that overlooked the sea. On a whim, she summoned her wings and stretched them wide, flapping the feathered appendages a few times... then settled down on the rocks to wait. Thoughts tumbling over each other like so many sandcrabs, like drifting snow, like the waves rushing and crashing below her, smashing themselves against the rock with relentless force.

Going nowhere.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

That task, for the most part, had worked. (Dunno how the thread is going yet so we’re winging it) Healed and ready, he takes to the sky in his bat form through the late night – blending in the black against the dark starry sky. Haai gives him away, blending in for the most part as well aside from the little puffs of smoke and flame that leave her maw in her excitement. But at least he feels better – just… Tired, unsure if it’s a physical or emotional tired. And so he focuses on the woman that awaits him at the bottom of the lighthouse – when Haai notices her first.

Descending to the lighthouse, he lands a few paces away, shifting to himself with Haai quick on his heels and he notices those pale wings she stretches out to soak in the wind. His own shifts remain deep within, hidden by skin and the shirt he wears, and he aims to come up part of the way toward her – one step headed toward the house. “Ready, Maea?” He calls out softly, gaze slightly brighter but still lined with exhaustion.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

She saw them coming. Dark silhouettes, black against the night sky, obscuring the stars. They came in to land, and Maea stood up from her perch on the rocks, watching the bat fade into nothingness when the glow of magic light turned away... and saw the man step towards her when that same light returned once more. A quiver of some deep emotion made her breath hitch at the sight of him. His voice was soft when he called to her, the name on his tongue sounding more hers than it ever did when spoken by others... as if no one had said it quite right until now.

"I'm coming."

With Shii lighting the way for her, Maea picked her way down to meet Sunjata, on light feet and the wings remaining on her back, for no particular reason. As she fell in to walk by his side along the trail that would lead them to the house, she looked him over. Wisp-light wasn't the most reliable, but she could at least see that bruises and scrapes were gone. He moved easier, breathed easier... but the weariness remained.

"You look tired. Did you eat anything today?" Food wasn't always a priority when pain ruled the mind, or indeed when thoughts crowded out everything else. Maea hadn't been too keen on eating herself these past days... but at least she had access to prepared meals.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

She tells him she’s coming, and he nods to her with that. Half turning toward the house, and he pauses long enough for her to catch up – gaze lingering over on her as Shii guides the way with the light. Haai herself bounds forth to the familiar path to the home, the rolling hills of plants and reeds. He picks up an easy pace with her, drifting along the path while the silence takes over and he breathes in a bit deeper, far easier – posture fixed and back to mostly proper at his full height.

But her voice pipes up and he hears her, tilting his head down to look at her with the question and the bags under his eyes. “I am tired.” He agrees with a small wry smile. “I don’t… Really remember to be honest.” A quiet chuckle is met with the response, shrugging his shoulders. It had been hard to hunt and do… Well, anything, when it came to the way he’d been living recently. Small things here and there to keep the hunger at bay while pain distracted him any other times. "It's okay though, really." He rumbles, offering her a small smile.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

A pale brow rose, her smile doubting his words very much, though in a caring, concerned kind of way. "Not really okay, no... you get grumpy without food," she told him, in a gentle tease. And they'd had quite enough of grump from both their sides to last a good long while... Better not test any patience already, before they'd even made up properly. "If there is anything edible at all around the house, I could make you something."

There was the sea not far away, with potential for clams and fish, birds eggs along cliffs and in wind swept salt-meadows, and game if they could be bothered to hunt... but Sunjata looked in no condition to do that, and Maea wouldn't bother if there was no easy access to ingredients. Not until morning, with better light.

The path was harder to spot in the dark, than it had been with the sun shining high overhead. With Shii to offer light and Sunjata leading the way however, it wasn't long before she saw the buildings rise from beyond the hill. Even in the dark, the sight made her heart clench tight in the chest. Something bittersweet and awful, a beautiful dream turned nightmare, turned... cold. A memory of sweet wine lay like a cloying film over her tongue, and Maea wondered if she would always associate it with heartache and distance.

"It looks... smaller, than I remember," she said quietly.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

A snort leaves him at her teasing, shoulders rising and falling in a small shrug. “Grumpy, huh?” He muses, having not recalled anyone telling him that he did. But he supposes the truth of it is there, sends Haai off mentally to go try and hunt a few small somethings. When she speaks next, he nods to her. “Haai will go hunt and bring back what she finds.” A quiet assurance.

Soon enough the house is upon them, and Sunjata takes the easy twist of the trail down toward the home – feeling none of those feelings that Maea has connected to it. A house was a house, in the end. And he’d spent enough time here already to swallow up those terrible dreadful feelings within about it. Now it was a place to recover, recoup, live while everything else seemed to go to hell.

Her quiet comment has him focusing on the house. “Does it?” He asks her quietly, unsure if whether or not it does to him too. It still felt large enough for him, big enough to not have to duck under every doorway and everything else. A place that was easily accessible yet hidden as well.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

Perhaps it was too early for banter. The urge to apologize for the smallest perceived slight was strong. To take it back, explain, make sure nothing was misunderstood, misinterpreted... She had not meant for Haai to do extra work, to make demands, or criticize... Maea bit her lip, swallowing it all down. Nodded instead, forcing herself to stick with her own pĺan now that it was accepted.

Similarly, his small counter question... perhaps it wasn't meant to be answered, rhethorical in nature... but how did she know? With everything else already in doubt... and it was so easy to slip into a defensive attitude. Explain too much.

A thin shoulder rose and fell, a half shrug expressing all the lost confidence her tongue wouldn't quite admit to. "Maybe it's just because it's dark," she said lightly. But knew it was more than that. Projected emotions suddenly lost, the rosy glow of expectation stripping away all the 'could have been' until only the bare bones remained. Reality, stark and inescapable.

A home for him. Not for them.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

She’s closed off and quiet, and he can tell that much from the way that she seems to flit about it. Is she worried of igniting that part of him again? A part that even he can’t muster the energy for right now? He’s not sure, and he doesn’t want to bring it up unless she does too on the off chance he’s misreading the air around them. But it’s tight and unsure, not like it had been on the beach but certainly as it has been once the house became a reality again, a possibility, a tangible thing to touch and walk into.

“I cleaned it up inside.” He offers quietly once they reach the porch that wraps around the front, ducking beneath the purple flowers that hung above the entry way. And he opens the door to let her in first, hoping that perhaps she won’t lose the momentum it took to get here. Inside, the dust has been cleared away, chairs and a couch within with furs atop them and a few books on a table beside the couch. The kitchen itself has been cleaned up as well, the table free of dust.

The upstairs has a real bed now and not much else all things considered – mostly covered in a few stray navy feathers from restless nights tossing and turning. And from the look of the state of the couch, it seems as though he might have spent a night or two there to try and keep from rolling over onto the wounds he’d sustained. So he steps inside after her, if she does enter, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. “Do you want anything?” He asks her softly.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

The scent of the flowers was heady, a heavy, tangible thing wrapping itself around her senses as Maea followed Sunjata through the wild garden, up to the porch, and in through the door he held open for her. There was an inclination to pause on the threshold, to hesitate, back out with something like panic constricting about her chest - as if returning to the place of the fight might kindle it again - but she didn't allow her steps to falter. Stepped right in, wrapped in surety that was only skin deep, and looked around. Keenly aware of the man's presence at her back, as she took in the changes he had made.

"It looks nice," she said. "Simple and functional... I like it." Spoken with the same kind of softness as he used. Like they were both wild animals in need of soothing, not to be pressured or crowded... She could weep for the loss of that confidence they had shared first time they walked through this house. Never questioning the welcome of the other to touch and speak their mind...

And look what all that liberty led to. Maea stood in the middle of the room, feeling small. A bit out of place. Not sure what to do with herself, where to go.

He asked if she wanted anything. Maea could think of a hundred things, from forgiveness and his arms around her, to futures and dreams and promises big and small..."Something to drink, maybe?" was all she said. "Water, or..." Anything but wine.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

A faint smile crosses his face, though he’s not sure if she sees it when she tells him it’s simple and functional. The fact that she likes it has him nodding along quietly as well, looking around the room and walls after clicking the door shut behind him. “I haven’t gone too crazy yet with it.” He teases her lightly, moving to step toward the middle of the room where she stands, surveying.

The question of what he can get her is met with an answer – water or something else, though he chooses water for sure, because if the wine of this home’s cellar was any indication, it was a straight shot toward upset. He’d rather not deal with that tonight, not while freshly healed and too exhausted to really do much else.

“Sure.” He replies easily, stepping past her toward the kitchen – a kitchen with perhaps far more memories than the rest of the house for him to reach for a glass. He begins to fill it up, pausing to grab another once he’s filled hers to fill his own – a heavy sort of feeling settling within his chest. But he swallows it down enough to grab both glasses, moving back toward the room and offering her one before he leans against the wall, taking a healthy sip of the water. “Are you cold?” He asks quietly, nodding his head toward the fireplace where the couches sit before it, wondering if she’d prefer to have it going.

If for nothing else but perhaps the sound of crackling flames to drown out the awkward silence.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

She didn't follow him to the kitchen. Wasn't ready to see it yet. Didn't want to know if the table still stood in the same place. If it still bore the deep scratches his claws had gouged into the wood, when she brought his knees to tremble. Just thinking about it, wondering if the echo of the sensation ever haunted him, felt dangerous.

Maea forced herself to walk about the room instead, with measured strides that were soundless on broad floor boards, swept clean and in need of a rug. The walls were still bare, lacking color. Lacking shelves, and the small touches of individuality that would make a home out of this temporary shelter. When Sunjata returned with the water, Maea accepted her glass with both hands, bowing her head in quiet thanks. Sipped, and felt surprise at how easily the liquid slipped past the lump in her throat.

He looked at the fireplace, asked if she was cold. Maea looked at him, considering. Not sure she should remind him of the black shawl around her shoulders, or how she could walk barefoot over snow and ice without shivering. Not sure she wanted to deny him the simple task of making her comfortable. Last time... ah, what would have happened if she just let him care for her? Make that bed, sleep away the tensions of a fight that had been settled.

She pulled the shawl from her shoulders. Folded it with a touch of magic and let come to rest on the back of a chair. And the air in the room was cool, Maea could feel it now. Knew it wasn't the reason for the goosebumps rising on her shoulders.

"A little. I don't mind more warmth... so if you want to, a fire would be nice." She smiled, almost timid. Took a step towards the couch, thinking to deposit herself in a corner of it. Out of the way.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

He knows it’s unlikely that she’d be cold – but it was an attempt to try and get her to speak, to talk about something other than the elephant in the room. And gods was it huge. She sips from her water, he sips from his, nodding his own ‘you’re welcome’ to her thanks before shifting on his feet and focusing on the fireplace – something safe, something easy. Still, he can’t help the way his gaze drifts toward her as she removes the shawl, swallowing against the lump in his throat when he remembers how Ludo’s rags had felt around him that day in Halo.

Long before everything else had gone to hell.

So when she speaks, he nods wordlessly, setting the glass down on a little coffee table of sorts before moving to kneel before the fireplace – placing in logs to replace those that had turned to ash, some kindling to catch the flame easier. And once he’s satisfied with it, he reaches for his pocket where the lighter Libbs had made him, sat. Flipping open the lid to it and striking the wheel on the side, the flame erupts, and he angles it in to catch on a bit of the kindling before closing the lighter to douse the flame and leans in to blow onto it to get it to catch more.

One hand braces against the top of the fireplace, and he blows a bit more onto the flame to continue it’s sparking, working slowly to catch the log on fire. So he pauses, to watch it curiously – the flame reflecting in the steel of his eyes, unsure what to say other than what he can feel on the edge of the companion bond. Some kind of excitement and pleasure at having found something. “Haai will be back soon.” He offers her quietly, daring to glance over to where she’s taken up space on the edge of the couch, before he turns his head back toward the fire, blowing on it a bit more to catch the log on fire.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell

Maea

And time it waits for no one
It heals them when you die

She felt a ghost gone astray, out of pace with the world and the time. Looked it too, where she balanced on the armrest of the couch. Small, pale, feet dangling and not quite reaching the floor. Void of color, save the Ones reflected back on her from the surroundings. White hair, white skin, white dress... it was the same one she had worn last time they were here. Same one she had worn all summer.

Maea didn't know what to say. How to breach this silence, or make it feel less heavy. Had they ever been this quiet around one another? From the first moment there had always been conversation. Words offered, points of view exchanged... but words felt like poisoned arrows tonight, poised on the taught string of a bow, shot blindly into the dark. Never sure it would hit the right target.

Watching him light the fire, Maea had fallen into contemplation over the way orange glow cast shadows over his jawline. When he spoke, it was unexpected enough that she started, blinking as she pulled her thoughts back from...

"That's good. Shii is in the garden." It had found a hollow in a tree to nestle into, and seemed intent to linger there all night.

Ah, she would have to brave the kitchen after all, then... She drained the water from the glass and set it aside.

And soon you are forgotten
A whisper within a sigh

SUNJATA

the flood

anyway, you say you're too busy
saving everybody else to save yourself

Shii is in the garden, a space that was meant for Maea to tend to – because Sunjata never quite had his mothers green thumb. Too well versed in watering plants with blood as opposed to water and the sunlight it needed. Not that it bothers him any, he’s got enough going on than the need to focus on gardens and the like. Too busy sharpening weapons and working on that and ensuring his muscles remain the same.

In fact, the daggers Maea had made him are settled along the other chair on the end table, the wet stone used to keep them sharp sitting beside it.

“You know…” He rumbles with a small smile, blowing onto the fire again. “If you’re not hungry I can prepare it myself.” An offering that she doesn’t have to prepare anything. He could manage on his own – and if he couldn’t? Well, he could just drink enough water to keep the pang of hunger away before fixing it when daylight comes.

Haai is still a ways off, anyway, dragging something back. He doesn’t quite know what yet. But at least the fire has taken in the fireplace, and he rocks back somewhat on his heels, before pushing off the ground to stand again, moving over to the other seat with a dark wolf pelt draped over it, taking a seat and running his fingers along the soft fur within. The crackling fire beginning to take up the awkward pangs of silence between them.

and you don't want no help, oh well
that's the story to tell