From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
holy water cannot help you now i don't want your money or your crown
The sound of her shoes on the concrete, the shouts of the enforcers behind her, and the gasps of citizens as she shoved her way past them echoed in Saartjie's ears. The metallic scent of blood was heavy and all she could smell even as she ran past street vendors and their food carts. It was his blood and it clung to her. It coated her, splashed across her face, neck, chest and hands, and it trailed the ground behind her as she ran. "Keep pushing. Keep going. You have to keep going." Was the mantra in her head. She couldn't let the enforcers catch her, not after what she had done.
Murder.
She was a murderer and, even worse, had murdered another noble from the family that provided their military with weapons. Whatever sliver of mercy they held in their hearts would not be there for her. No ... the only thing that awaited Saartjie was execution.
"Keep going...
Keep going...
Keep ... going...."
She squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed harder, but her legs were tiring and her lungs were burning. It was obvious to her that she was at her limit and there was nothing else for her to give. They would catch her and they would drag her back to their headquarters and begin their "interrogation". She could either let them catch her or she could stop running and face them with whatever pride she had left.
The decision made, she finally stopped running and turned back in the direction she had come from, but when her eyes opened she could only stare in confusion. The entire world had changed. She was no longer in the city and there was no longer concrete under feet. Instead she stood on a wooden pier and could hear ocean waves. "What...?" Saartjie turned, wide eyes taking in everything around her. The pier, the boats, the ocean, the setting sun. "Waar is ek?" she whispered. "Wat is besig om te gebeur?"
"."
ooc:// Nate
Translation: Waar is ek? - where am I?
wat is besig om te gebeur - what's happening?
you see, i've come to burn your kingdom to the ground
Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
The decision has been made. The words become a mantra, echoing in Nate’s head with every sullen beat of his feet. He has to stick to his word, has to make this choice. Regret, resentment will bloom of he stays, and if there is one thing he won’t do, it’s become his father.
Pemota drifts behind him, spiralling horn hovering over his shoulder, and her starry wake lighting everything he’s walking away from. Nate carries nothing with him, no bag on his back, or dangling off his shoulder. He doesn’t even have a full pack of smokes on him.
The pier, and the portal it cradles, rise up in front of him, a promise for some space, for a chance to think. Night, and the season, had the pier quieter than usual, but still people wandered here and there. Right in front of him. Covered in...
...blood?
Whatever daze Nate had been in snaps away as he focuses on the woman, as he hears the words the slip from her lips. Fluid seizes in his chest, panic and paranoia both rearing up. It hasn’t even been a season since Shaju, and while this girl looks... well, not harmless, she’s clearly not covered in her own blood, but like he could take her, if need be.
”Hey, miss?” Venturing a half step closer, Nate hovers, trying to be nonthreatening, trying to not provoke her. ”Wil je... hulp hê?” Pemota drifts closer than he dares, her calming light just within reach of the woman.
holy water cannot help you now i don't want your money or your crown
She didn't know how long she stood there, staring out at the ocean and the setting sun, completely dumbfounded. There was no logical explanation as to how and why she was no longer in the city. Was it some divine intervention that had decided to spare her from the wrath of the enforcers? Or... was she already dead? Saartjie lifted her hands and looked down at them ... still caked in blood. Her legs still ached from the run and her lungs still burned, so she couldn't be dead ... right?
"Hey, miss?"
The sudden sound of a man's voice made Saartjie gasp and she spun to face him, her stance immediately going defensive. He didn't appear to be a threat, but that didn't mean that he wasn't. She backed away a step, her hand reaching for the knife that Sunjata had given her -- the one she always kept tucked away for self defense. It wasn't there and for a brief moment a panic flashed in her eyes and then she remembered. The knife was with him, in their home. Lodged in his chest.
This man, though, standing before her didn't have the look of an enforcer. He didn't have the look of anyone from Korofi -- at least not any of the noble families. And if he wasn't running from her or trying to catch her outright ... perhaps he didn't know about what she had done. She could possibly --
Saartjie blinked, her posture going rigid as the familiar language touched her ears. She cast a panicked glance around her, expecting to see enforcers beginning to circle her, but there was nothing. Just him and her on the pier and a few fishermen tending to their boats, none the wiser about what was happening a few feet away. "Moenie nader kom nie." She warned, but her voice wavered as her gaze returned to the man that had approached her. "Wie is jy? En waar is ek? Wat is besig om te gebeur?" Saartjie shot off the rapid fire questions as panic began to set in. "Is dit Korofi-land?"
"."
ooc:// Nate
Translation:
Moenie nader kom nie. - don't come any closer.
wie is jy? En waar is ek? Wat is besig om te gebeur? - who are you? And where am I? What's happening?
Is dit Korofi-land? - is this Korofi land?
you see, i've come to burn your kingdom to the ground
Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
Nate is not a threat, not to her, not right now. Right now, he simply wants to help, if he can, his soft core peeking out of a rough exterior. His single curious eye pours over her, over the details revealed by his starwhal’s light. Brows pinch together, tugging awkwardly at the deep scar that spans his face, his lips pursing as orders begin to bark from her.
Immediately, it seems like a mistake to have answered in Korofi, her body going stiff. The questions that fire towards him are all in the harsh tongue though, so Nate replies in kind. It’s made abundantly clear by every word he says that this is not his mother tongue, his accent awkward in places where it shouldn’t be, and completely wrong in other places. ”Alright, alright.” His hands come up in a show of placating, a scar spanning his left palm in what should be a familiar mark to her. ”Nie beweeg nie.” An easy enough request to follow.
Who would have thought he’d run into such excitement before even leaving Torchline. ”My naam is Nate. Ek is ‘n dokter.” Maybe that would inspire a little bit of trust. Nate certainly puts stock in the words, shuffling his feet and shifting, not closer, not necessarily.
The last question has him panicking and relaxing both. A suspicion quelled, only to raise further suspicion in its wake. ”Nie, dit is nie.” Licking his lips, Nate wonders if there’s an easier way to rip the band aid off, before just going for it. ”This is a different place. It’s... safer.”
Nie beweeg nie - Not moving
My naam is Nate. Ek is ‘n dokter. - My name is Nate, I’m a doctor.
Nice, dit is nie - No, no it’s not
holy water cannot help you now i don't want your money or your crown
His hands came up in, what she assumed was, a way to placate her and calm her, but it didn't. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the scar that stretched across his palm ... one that mirrored the scar on her own palm beneath the drying blood. The muscles in her arms tensed and her hands balled into fists as she fought the urge to grab his wrist and pull his hand closer to inspect the scar and see if it was exactly what she thought it was or just a scar from some past accident. "Your hand..." She began, her jaw clenching as she cut herself short when Nate spoke again, telling her that he was a doctor.
”Nie, dit is nie.”
If it weren't for the awkward way the language roll off of his tongue, Saartjie wouldn't have believed him. She had traveled several times in her youth with her parents and even more with Gaal, but wherever they had gone their native language had been spoken in an effortless manner. This man ... it was obvious that it was not his first language. That coupled with the fact that enforcers had not been set upon her, or were even circling her, made her believe that he was telling the truth. She was no longer on Korofi lands, but somewhere far, far away. Somewhere safer.
The tension left her body all at once and her legs, sore and weak from running, buckled beneath her. Her bottom hit the pier with a thud and for a long moment she sat there in silence, staring down at the pier and her blood caked hands. There were a million questions running through her head, but the main one was how. How had she ended up in a land far away from Korofi when only moments before she had been running through the streets. She doubted that Nate would be able to answer her. That question and the others could be answered later, after she cleaned herself up and got some rest.
"Nate." She finally said, looking up at him. "I am Saartjie Senzaok." Going by her maiden name, she decided, would be safer than her married name for the time being. At least until she was sure that she could trust Nate. "I uh..." Her tongue swiped over her lips and she motioned with her hands. "I need to wash."
Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
His hand? Not for the last time, confusion dances across his features, Nate glancing to one hand, then the other. There's nothing wrong with them, as far as he can see. The same collection of scars and rings there's always been. Nothing that should provoke the ripple of discomfort. It passes before he can make the connection, Nate assuring her that this is somewhere safe. He's heard enough of Korofi to be able to offer that fact with confidence, a flash of a smile.
It's hard to tell what exactly it is that convinces her, that saps the fight from her, but its yet another thing that Nate doesn't have time to think about, not as she drops to the pier roughly. Stepping a half step closer, he looks her over again, making sure there isn't anything pressing before he pauses again.
He's just about gathered himself enough to step closer when she introduces herself, stopping him all over again. "You're Saar... You're Saartjie Senzaok? I..." Nate closes his mouth, lets his gaze drift over her, a handful of things settling into place in his mind, cascading across his face. "No, of course you are, of... of course you do." Was it right, to not say anything? To look upon his apparent sister-in-law with suspicion, confusion?
Stepping closer, Nate shrugs out of his jacket and reaches out to wrap it around her shoulders, hiding the worst of the blood. "I have a place not too far from here." If she lets him, he'll lead her deeper into town, to a shuttered building with the word 'Clinic' painted above the door. It's not locked, and up a flight of stairs there's a quiet room, a basin that Nate leaves Saartjie in, retreating out to the hall to give her a moment of privacy. He's waiting in the hall when she's finished, his face stony.
holy water cannot help you now i don't want your money or your crown
It didn't bode well when Saartjie introduced herself and he immediately seemed to know exactly who she was. The recognition in his voice and the way he said her name put her on edge and she tore her eyes away from him for a moment to look around them again before her eyes returned to him once more. The look on his face was relatively unreadable, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't exactly thrilled to see her. His whole countenance seemed to have changed the moment she spoke her name and that meant that even if it were true that she was no longer on Korofi land, she still had to watch her back.
She pushed herself to her feet, groaning inwardly at her sore and tired muscles protested. As Nate stepped forward she tensed and nearly backed away from him then stopped when she realized what his intent was. His jacket would cover most of the blood that coated her and make it easier to get through the city without drawing any unwanted or unnecessary attention. "Thank you." she murmured and held the jacket closed. She was quiet for the entire walk to Nate's clinic, and it was during that walk that she finally decided that he was telling her the truth, at least somewhat. What she still wasn't sure about was if this new place was safe.
Upon reaching the clinich she paused at the stairs before climbing them and heading into the room to wash up. Thankfully he gave her some privacy, which was something she sorely needed. Looking in the mirror, at the blood splashed across her face made her stomach turn and she quickly looked down and began to fill the basin with water. Her hands were first and soon the clean water was stained a murky redish color. Forearms were next and she found, beneath the dried blood, bruises from Gaal grabbing her arm so tightly as they fought. Before she could move on she had to replace the water and then came the task of cleaning the blood from her face.
Saartjie looked in the mirror again, frowning as she used a wet washcloth and began scrubbing along her chest and neck, then up to her jaw. It wasn't until she reached her left cheekbone and eye area that she flinched and hissed quietly. More gingerly, she began to clean that area, little by little revealing another darkening bruise. She remembered the slap, then, and the way her head had snapped to the side and her ears had rang from the force of it. Tearing her gaze away from her reflection, Saartjie looked down at the dirty water again then cleaned cleaned the rest of her face as quickly as she could.
Once finished she didn't bother looking in the mirror again -- she didn't want to see any leftover traces of blood or the darkening bruise that she was sure would turn into a black eye. Instead she crossed the room to the door and pulled it open only to find Nate waiting on the other side with a stony expression on his face. Saartjie matched his expression with one of her own and stood staring at him for a minute before speaking. "Who are you really?" She asked first. "How do you know my name?"
03-31-2021, 05:50 AM (This post was last modified: 03-31-2021, 04:56 PM by Nate.)
Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
”Happy to help.” He rumbles back softly, trying to make up for his earlier stumble with an unnatural warmth. Warmth that seems to escape him as they walk, as he has a chance to really digest all of this. He wonders if it’s coincidence or fate that he’d been the one to find her. Wonders if it changes anything, in the end.
The only thing he knows is that it doesn’t matter right now. Right now, she needs someplace safe to wash up, to settle into and get herself reoriented. Nate just hopes the clinic can provide that.
Though he’s in the same place, he’s clearly moved since leaving her in the room to wash up, a waxed canvas bag clutched in his hand, a handful of supplies nestled snugly within it. Just in case, he’d told himself. In case of what was a question he couldn’t answer. He knew the state Saartjie had been in, knew there more than likely wasn’t anything wrong with her, at least not that he could help. Truth was, he needs something in his hands, needs to move and try to figure out what to do.
Escape had been so close. The portal had been right there.
Nate is mid sigh when the door clicks open again, Saartjie stepping out. She seems smaller, covered in bruises instead of blood, though the doctor knows better than to assume that’s the case. There had been a reason she had been caked in gore after all, and some water didn’t exactly change that. Instead, he meets her stare head on, not blinking the entire time her eyes are on him.
He doesn’t know how to answer her question. Doesn’t know how to just keep his mouth shut either. Somehow not saying anything at all feels so much stranger than saying something, even if it’s a placeholder while he tries to find his feet. ”I have something for that.” A hand gestures towards her face. Thankfully he’d grabbed a bag with one of Vervain’s premixed poultices in it. Thankfully it gave him an excuse to look down, away, while he begins again. ”I didn’t lie about who I am. I just...” A heavy sigh drops from him. He has to bite the bullet, can’t step around it anymore, not if he wants to get on anything close to the right foot with her.
”You have a brother, don’t you? Sunjata?” Again, Nate’s hand comes up in a placation, a plea for a breath longer before she responds. His left hand, the one with scar and ring both, a fact that he seems to remember suddenly, clenching his hand and pulling it back. ”I know him. Well. We’re...” Should he be afraid? Does reason change the fact that he is? ”ons is... betrokke.”
Ons is betrokke - We’re... involved (lit. Entangled, can be understood as complicated or together)
holy water cannot help you now i don't want your money or your crown
The seconds ticked by as they stood in silence, Saartjie waiting for Nate to answer her question and him seeming as though he were trying to figure out how to answer her. When he finally did speak it wasn't to answer her question, but to mention the bruises on her face. She lifted her hand, her fingers gently touching the darkening skin by her eye as she wondered what he had that could work on a bruise. Back home she'd simply cover it up with makeup and pretend like it didn't happen -- like every well trained and obedient wife did. Her jaw clenched momentarily and her hand dropped back by her side. "Okay." She answered and waited for him to lead her to a place where they could both sit rather than stand in the hallway.
An eyebrow raised at his next statement. "I didn't say you lied." Saartjie responded, though she was now admittedly a little suspicious. Liars were usually the ones that claimed they weren't liars. Her head tilted as she studied him, eyes narrowing a bit at the expression on his face. He seemed conflicted ... almost scared. But of what? Of her? "I'm not going to hurt you." Saartjie assured him. "I have no reason to." So far all he had done since he had found her was help her.
"You have a brother dodn't you? Sunjata?"
Before she could say anything Nate raised his hand in, what she assumed, was a plea for her to remain quiet so he could continue. Saartjie pressed her lips together and waited, but she couldn't help but stare at the scar that stretched across his palm ... and the ring on his finger. As though he sensed her staring at it he closed his hand into a fist and pulled his hand back before he continued on. "Betrokke." she repeated, obviously surprised by the admission. It was ... unheard of where she and Sunjata came from. Men and women were forced into arranged marriages by their parents more often than not and their marriages were just for politics.
Without saying anything else, Saartjie reached for Nate's hand. Her fingers closed around his wrist and she pulled his hand toward her and stared down at his palm. There, right in front of her was the scar. She ran her index finger along it, brow furrowing because she knew what it meant. "You're married..." She said and she held her own hand up, palm open, next to Nate's. The scars were nearly identical, but that was typically the case with that outdated tradition.
She was still holding Nate's wrist in her other hand when she looked up to meet his gaze. "Is he happy?" She asked, because it was truly the only thing that mattered to her. She didn't care who he married, as long as he was happy.
Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
The moment of distraction he'd offered is accepted, Nate letting out a breath he'd been holding for too long and leading Saartjie into one of the examination rooms. Weak moonlight streams in through the window, the doctor seemingly content with it until he remembers he's not at home, until he remembers that even if everyone he spends time with can see in near darkness, she is not one of those people. With a distracted hum, Nate finds a lamp and a box of matches, lighting it and bathing the room in its warm light.
He leans into the moment of reprieve as much as he can, fishing out a small pot filled with a thick, greenish ointment from the bag he'd grabbed and smearing a generous dab over the discolouration on her face, so long as she let's him get close enough for it. If not, he's happy to pass the pot over, to hold up a mirror instead.
But Nate can not avoid this subject forever, cannot dodge questions. Can't hide this strange thread between them, no matter how he wants to, given his current circumstances. He launches into a slow explanation, filled with second-guessing and worries. For all he'd imagined himself beyond this kind of hesitation, reality is happy to slap him back into place. As the truth falls from his lips, Nate reminds himself that he can't be hurt, at least not physically. He wonders if her condemnation would have the same effect, though thankfully, it doesn't come.
His hand is grabbed, Nate opening it with no small amount of reluctance. And there, silvery and straight on his hand, is a scar that matches hers. One whose mate sits on Sunjata's hand, back where he is at home. "I am." He breathes, staring at Saartjie with an unblinking one-eyed gaze, working his jaw before he corrects himself. "We are." Might as well not leave any room at all for misunderstandings.
"Yes." Nate says fiercely, as if the force of his answer makes it even more true. As if it can make up for the current hiccup they're in. "We're... in the middle of something right now, it's... it's complicated, but yes. He's happy." Offering Saartjie a strained smile, he continues, trying to not offer a chance to question his words. "I can bring you to him, if you want. Once we're done here."
holy water cannot help you now i don't want your money or your crown
She watched in silence as he opened a jar, revealing a strange looking green goo, her nose wrinkled in preparation for some foul smell to accompany it. Much to her surprise the oddly colored goop had a pleasant smell to it, not at all like what she was expecting. There was a slight flinch as Nate's fingers spread the ointment over the bruise under and around her eye. "Sorry," she murmured and forced herself to remain still as her brother's husband tended to her bruises. It had been a long time since she'd felt any kind of gentle touch, as Gaal had always been rough and demanding with her ever since they had said their vows. She clasped her hands together in her lap and studied Nate's face as he worked and … it was no wonder that her brother had married him. He was a handsome man with a gentle touch -- something every woman in Korofi would die for.
"We are."
Knowing that her brother was happy, that they were both happy drew a sigh of relief from the girl. Sunjata's life had been hard from the day he was old enough to hold a knife in his hand and she knew that he had been unhappy in Korofi for a long time. The one small piece of happiness he had been able to find had been taken from him and it had nearly broken him. If anyone deserved to find some sort of happiness in life it was him. Saartjie reached for Nate's hand again and clasped it tightly in her own. "That's … so good to hear." she said, squeezing his hand once before releasing it. "Ek wens jou niks anders as geluk nie."
There was a fierceness in the way he answered her that Saartjie couldn't place, but it didn't make her uncomfortable. What he said next, however did draw a bit of a grin from the young woman. In the middle of something, huh? "I don't know what my brother has done," she began and held up a hand so that Nate would allow her to finish before speaking up. "He has never been the … smartest man, but the things he does are usually with the best of intention." With that said she released his hand and set her own hands back in her lap.
His offer to bring her to Sunjata was met with silence and Saartjie looked away, toward one of the windows. It had grown dark in the time it had taken them to get to the clinic, clean herself up, and tend to her bruises. "I don't know..." She finally answered. "I don't know if he'd even want to see me." It had been such a long time and their lives had taken such very different paths.
"."
ooc:// Nate
Translation:
ek wens jou niks anders as geluk nie - I wish you nothing but happiness
you see, i've come to burn your kingdom to the ground
Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
Whatever negativity or judgement Nate had been afraid of does not come to pass. Instead, there is warmth, there is relief, things that the ascended allows to flow through him as well. It strange, letting go of that automatic defensiveness, that learned ability to simply grit his teeth and keep quiet, but that new ease brings with it a genuine smile, one that only grows brighter as his hand is clasped. "I'm glad." Nate breathes, his shoulders dropping as his hand is released. "Jy weet nie hoeveel dit vir my beteken nie. Vir ons."
The hand is a good gesture, one that stops him from doing exactly what she'd feared and opening his mouth preemptively. "I... don't even know how to explain." Nate admits with a helpless shrug. "But you're right. He was... just trying to do something good." And instead, he'd wrenched apart the stability they had together, forced a wedge into a space that should be filled with love. "I don't know if... if intentions make it better, in this case."
He can't just leave it at that though, can he? He has to offer some explanation. "We... ended up on opposite sides of some... stupid divine war. And he made a deal for my life with uh... with his goddess." Even now, he cringes, even now, he knows he's leaving out so much. "It turns out part of that deal was uh, a kid, so..." A helpless shrug rolls over his shoulders, Nate glancing away with a huff, though he's careful to keep his good eye towards her, careful to watch for her reaction to his explanation.
His brows furrow, confusion pouring over his face like a flooded river. "Of course he wants to see you." Nate is not so naive to think blood alone makes family, that is a lesson he has learned well. But there is a different bond between siblings, even raised apart from each other. Without thinking his hand comes out, taking hers and squeezing gently. His touch might be cool, but it is no less supportive for it, no less calming. Hell, if Nate didn't know better, he'd wrap Saartjie in a hug. "He'll be happy to see you safe. I promise." He says it like a fact, like its written in stone, like he's not just assuming. At least he's a good liar.
Jy weet nie hoeveel dit vir my beteken nie. Vir ons. - You don't know how much it means to me. To us.
holy water cannot help you now i don't want your money or your crown
The change in Nate when she gave her blessing was immediate and obvious. The smile that lit up his face reached his eyes and seemed so genuine that Saartjie couldn't help but smile back at him. After her brother had escaped she had hoped and prayed to whatever god there was that was listening that he would find peace and happiness wherever he went, even if it meant that she would never see him again. He had been through so much from such a young age ... it hurt her heart to think about.
"I don't even know how to explain."
Before she could stop him and tell him that he didn't have to explain, Nate had already begun. Her brow furrowed and her lips pulled down into a frown as he said that he didn't know if intention would make anything better. Whatever Sunjata had done had obviously been stupid, but she didn't have to wonder long about it. She remained silent as he spoke of a divine war, Sunjata making a deal with a goddess and how part of the deal was a child. "A child...?" she repeated, not really believing it because that would mean that "He's got a kid?" Of course it would be just like im to make some stupid decision like that. "Fokken idioot." she muttered to herself.
Their conversation shifted away from Nate and Sunjata's issues and back towards her. Saartjie looked up at Nate when he spoke again, but she wasn't completely sure that he was right. "You think so?" She asked, but as he squeezed her hand she couldn't help but feel hopeful and like maybe he was right. Even if they had been apart for ... gods, she had lost track of just how much time had passed since she'd last see him. It felt like a hundred lifetimes had passed since she'd last gotten to hug him or even look at him. After he'd escaped Korofi all the pictures she'd had of him had been taken and destroyed. It was like he didn't even exist anymore except in her memories and in her heart. "Where is he? When can I see him?"
ooc://
tag Nate
translation: fokken idioot - fucking idiot
you see, i've come to burn your kingdom to the ground
Oh, how wrong we were to think That immortality meant never dying
There is some vindication in knowing for certain that at least he’s not out of line for his reaction, if Saartjie’s is anything to go by. Sure, he’d had been... perhaps more explosive, more passive agressive about it, but the sentiment was the same. ”He’s got a kid. She’s...” Nate hums, head tipping back and forth as he tries to nail down an estimate. ”Five? Six? That’s uh, that’s god shit though, not... natural.” Because that makes the difference here, obviously.
There’s something so melancholy about her reaction, about the thought that for whatever reason Sunjata wouldn’t want to see her. Nate isn’t sure if he should say anything about it, isn’t even sure what to say, so instead he tries to put on his most reassuring smile as he answers. ”Of course you can.” As if Nate would do anything to stop her, as if he weren’t pushing and prodding for this very thing. For all the the things that could have come, all the distractions and excuses and reasons to pause the beginning of his temporary separation, this is among the best. And it would be a lie to say that the thought of Saartjie with Sunjata didn’t put his mind at ease somewhat. ”He’s uh, he’s back home. It’s a bit of a walk, will you be okay?” With the rain, with the dark?
If she is sure, eager to once again be face to face with family, Nate will waste no time, letting his coat be used again as he leads them through town, towards the edges of the beach, where cliffs rise up over the ocean, and a just barely visible impression of candlelit windows wafts through the rainy nighttime haze.
