- 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
He has to trust her. He has to make himself trust her, because she’s family, real family, and she wouldn’t hurt him. Not on purpose. A wide unblinking eye stares at Melita, while Nate tries as hard as he can to force himself. He breaks before he bends, the sudden snap almost visible on his face. One instant, a quiet, muted desperation on his face, and the next, he’s crying, tears steaming down one side of his face, leaving him with the catch-22 of hiding either his emotional weakness, or the worst of his scars away from her. If nothing else, Nate’s moving again though, reluctant strides that are still slow, but long enough to keep up with his niece.
The starwhal still keeps a wide berth between her and Nate, but she returns as well, curving wide around Melita to join Fangorn up ahead. As Nate’s panic fades, so too does Pemota’s, the feedback loop growing quieter, making room for shame, for regret.
Nate manages to be quiet for a handful of steps, before he suddenly rushes, closing the distance between him and his niece enough that they stand side by side, that he can squeezes her hand and talk at her without his voice being stolen by the wind. ”I’m sorry Mel. I just...” How did he explain, without reawakening the terror, without inspiring pity, or worse. ”I g-got confused, I th-think. I hope.” No matter how hard he tries, his voice shakes, trembles.
The starwhal still keeps a wide berth between her and Nate, but she returns as well, curving wide around Melita to join Fangorn up ahead. As Nate’s panic fades, so too does Pemota’s, the feedback loop growing quieter, making room for shame, for regret.
Nate manages to be quiet for a handful of steps, before he suddenly rushes, closing the distance between him and his niece enough that they stand side by side, that he can squeezes her hand and talk at her without his voice being stolen by the wind. ”I’m sorry Mel. I just...” How did he explain, without reawakening the terror, without inspiring pity, or worse. ”I g-got confused, I th-think. I hope.” No matter how hard he tries, his voice shakes, trembles.
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.
