but the wolf is always there, even when i can't see it
Truthfully, he’s just about to step toward the Spire and check out the inside of it. And yet… He doesn’t. It’s too foreign, too unusual to him. His good hand rises to rest and run along the space of his missing arm, bandaged up just as any soldier would, when the last of the suns rays begin to descend upon the world around them. He can see just fine, though, another silent thanks sent to the Voice after these centuries of silence.
And then, is that movement he hears? A stillness overcoming him that still isn’t quite perfected since his return. He’s old and it’s been a while, alright?
A bright blue gaze, darkened by memories and confusion, slip toward the figure – expecting to not recognize them.
And he stops dead in his tracks. The shock of white against the darkening sky, those bright eyes that were cunning as they were kind, the way there’s nearly recognition within the look that crosses Varus’ face. And he turns. He turns fully to face Aamu, also half expecting him to be a ghost, a figure of the past, his mind playing tricks on him.
But he can’t help but to fall for it. A smile graces his features, something surprisingly gentle compared to the hardened exterior of him nowadays, and he takes a step toward his fellow Ascended. “Is it really you?” He asks, voice just loud enough to skate across the grasses – just as Aamu had taught him all those years ago.
And then, is that movement he hears? A stillness overcoming him that still isn’t quite perfected since his return. He’s old and it’s been a while, alright?
A bright blue gaze, darkened by memories and confusion, slip toward the figure – expecting to not recognize them.
And he stops dead in his tracks. The shock of white against the darkening sky, those bright eyes that were cunning as they were kind, the way there’s nearly recognition within the look that crosses Varus’ face. And he turns. He turns fully to face Aamu, also half expecting him to be a ghost, a figure of the past, his mind playing tricks on him.
But he can’t help but to fall for it. A smile graces his features, something surprisingly gentle compared to the hardened exterior of him nowadays, and he takes a step toward his fellow Ascended. “Is it really you?” He asks, voice just loud enough to skate across the grasses – just as Aamu had taught him all those years ago.
VARUS
