- NATE -
do you feel at home? your flames are burning higher
your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
your circumstance is dire, don't panic. you're frantic
Nate knows Halo for many things, it’s sub-zero temperatures, the things that apparently like to fuck with him, out in the icy seas, and now, most surprising of all, its seemingly never ending mountains. It’s a good thing he’s only aware, and can’t truly feel it, though that doesn’t stop him from longing for warmth just the same.
Pemota, bless her, truly, tries what she can, tries to lead him towards the cave containing the portal, tries to correct his path, but it’s no use. Nate is lost, and he's sick of the mountains, and of snow, and with walking through the mountains and snow. He wants to be home, wants to be with Sunjata again. How had he even gotten here, without his fiancé? What had he been doing?
The wind whispers many answers to him, it’s icy voice one Nate tries to ignore, one he tries to shut out, but the more he wanders aimlessly, the more alluring it sounds. Maybe he should pause, rest, as much as he can. His head pounds, and his vision is blurry, and he just needs a moment. Sitting down turns to laying down almost immediately, the snow deep enough for him to sink into, and still not feel rock. It’s almost cozy. If he just closes his eyes, it almost feels like he’s sleeping.
Above him, far, far above him it feels like, Pemota trills, tries to get his attention, tries to make him rise. And when her songs don’t work, when her thrum of panic in their bond doesn’t work, she resorts to jabbing him with her horn, Nate’s hand rising to wave weakly at her. ”I just need a second. Just a second.” But his voice is weak, and unconvincing, fading away as his hand drops again. The starwhal pokes him once more, then floats away, looking for something to rouse him, something to get Nate up.
She finds far more than she bargained, crossing paths with Melita quite by accident and doing everything she could to get the girl and her hours to follow. By now, there was little more than a dip in the snow indicating where Nate was, a dip Pemota hovers over, singing at Melita, as of she was asking for help.
Pemota, bless her, truly, tries what she can, tries to lead him towards the cave containing the portal, tries to correct his path, but it’s no use. Nate is lost, and he's sick of the mountains, and of snow, and with walking through the mountains and snow. He wants to be home, wants to be with Sunjata again. How had he even gotten here, without his fiancé? What had he been doing?
The wind whispers many answers to him, it’s icy voice one Nate tries to ignore, one he tries to shut out, but the more he wanders aimlessly, the more alluring it sounds. Maybe he should pause, rest, as much as he can. His head pounds, and his vision is blurry, and he just needs a moment. Sitting down turns to laying down almost immediately, the snow deep enough for him to sink into, and still not feel rock. It’s almost cozy. If he just closes his eyes, it almost feels like he’s sleeping.
Above him, far, far above him it feels like, Pemota trills, tries to get his attention, tries to make him rise. And when her songs don’t work, when her thrum of panic in their bond doesn’t work, she resorts to jabbing him with her horn, Nate’s hand rising to wave weakly at her. ”I just need a second. Just a second.” But his voice is weak, and unconvincing, fading away as his hand drops again. The starwhal pokes him once more, then floats away, looking for something to rouse him, something to get Nate up.
She finds far more than she bargained, crossing paths with Melita quite by accident and doing everything she could to get the girl and her hours to follow. By now, there was little more than a dip in the snow indicating where Nate was, a dip Pemota hovers over, singing at Melita, as of she was asking for help.
this is your hell, dancing for something that was
true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
true to you, how do you do? say it's me.
