All they can offer in response to her single word is a strangled laugh, Osozo’s hand clapping over their mouth almost as soon as the sound leaves them. They’ve never experienced loss, in any form before, and they know, logically, that this is minor. That Rexanna is distant to them, closer perhaps than a stranger, but that is still not close. Clemente was a stranger, and still that loss bit the Demi-god.
They’re silent another moment, hand clapped tightly over their mouth while the red bleeds away to a pale, watery blue, their hair lightening in patches as well. ”You’d think... of anyone, she’d be safe.” Osozo manages finally. Because she was the queen. Because she was Ascended. Because she’d survived before.
OSOZO
The touch and gaze of those to whom we are less than nothing
