tell the wolves I'm home
Maybe they were both sirens then; coaxing lulls of beckoning mirrors, back and forth from the shambles of what had once been. A growth harkened on their own merits, but the support still there in either shadow or light, surges of strength, might, fortitude, and indulgence, a liberation and freedom neither had known for years. It was a comforting balance – reminders that the weight of the world couldn’t rest on singular shoulders, that there was always someone in the midst, that they could call and there’d be an answer, rising, rising, rising from the lilts and tones. Love and distinction, encouragement and affection, keen notes memorized and known in primordial facets; deeply ingrained within ichor and aspiration, hope and loss.
Even now, in his musing silence, he wanted to laugh as she rushed headlong into the snare. His gaze softened from the retreated portions of shadows, from the husks of grass covering over his figure, taking her in, enticed and lured and adoring, as she burst along walls. He smothered the rise of the chuckle behind his teeth and tongue, and instead opted to repair the stalks and greenery she’d marred, placing additional wall-like structures in the hastened and patchwork maze.
Even now, in his musing silence, he wanted to laugh as she rushed headlong into the snare. His gaze softened from the retreated portions of shadows, from the husks of grass covering over his figure, taking her in, enticed and lured and adoring, as she burst along walls. He smothered the rise of the chuckle behind his teeth and tongue, and instead opted to repair the stalks and greenery she’d marred, placing additional wall-like structures in the hastened and patchwork maze.
the ressurected sword
