Aurelia
and my hands aren't clean
maybe they never will be
maybe they never will be
At first, there's not much that happens. She starts to second-guess all this, worrying that maybe she was wrong to come here. But then she catches movement from a window, and following it closely is Sunjata's voice in her head.
She shifts with impulse, her muscles stiffening as if preparing to move forth. But she forces herself to wait instead. Okay.. she replies, wanting to add something but not knowing what to say.
The door opens and she immediately straightens up, her ears pricking forward and the white dots above her eyes raising. He's the same person, of course, but he's noticeably changed. His face seems clearer, like he's gotten better sleep, but there's scars that tear through the compasses on his neck. Her ears drop at the sight of them.
The relief he sends her way makes her heart drop. She's relieved to see him still alive, too. After all, she'd been gone so long.. she still isn't sure what all she'll be returning to.
But she shifts back, confirming the question of if it really is her. And while she's certainly a lot less muddy in this form, she doesn't look a whole lot better. With a noticeable favoritism for one leg, she limps forward and slumps unceremoniously into giving him the biggest of bear hugs.
"Hey," she mumbles, her shoulders slouching and her eyes momentarily tearing up. Fortunately, he can't see that.
After a few moments, she lets go, blinking and stepping back to look up at him. "I think every time I see you, you have a new scar," she comments dryly, and she can't quite decide whether to smile or frown about that.
She shifts with impulse, her muscles stiffening as if preparing to move forth. But she forces herself to wait instead. Okay.. she replies, wanting to add something but not knowing what to say.
The door opens and she immediately straightens up, her ears pricking forward and the white dots above her eyes raising. He's the same person, of course, but he's noticeably changed. His face seems clearer, like he's gotten better sleep, but there's scars that tear through the compasses on his neck. Her ears drop at the sight of them.
The relief he sends her way makes her heart drop. She's relieved to see him still alive, too. After all, she'd been gone so long.. she still isn't sure what all she'll be returning to.
But she shifts back, confirming the question of if it really is her. And while she's certainly a lot less muddy in this form, she doesn't look a whole lot better. With a noticeable favoritism for one leg, she limps forward and slumps unceremoniously into giving him the biggest of bear hugs.
"Hey," she mumbles, her shoulders slouching and her eyes momentarily tearing up. Fortunately, he can't see that.
After a few moments, she lets go, blinking and stepping back to look up at him. "I think every time I see you, you have a new scar," she comments dryly, and she can't quite decide whether to smile or frown about that.
but they can still carry you home
when you're ready to sleep
when you're ready to sleep
