ARD
’Good luck finding anywhere.’
The statement was said with a crude, bitter snap that caused Ard’s ears to dip back in uncertainty, tension coiling in his muscles and anxiety gripping tight to his damaged heart. He shifted his weight from hoof to hoof from the sheer weight of his own transgressions, turquoise eyes darting to glance nervously towards Erd before redirecting his attention back to Marisol beneath silver lashes and a baleful gaze. He was, not for the first time, so very grateful to the cloak of blacks and greys that hid him from the majority of Marisol’s gaze. It was a familiar tone, the Commander’s, sharp and virulent, but it lacked the dangerous anger that he so recalled from their previous handler. Sucking in a deep, deep breath, Ard let it hold within his lungs as he counted.
Slow. One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five. Release. Repeat. Slow. Count to five. Release. Repeat.
Counting helped. It eased his mind and his heart, reining in his wayward, frantic thoughts back into his own control before they could spiral someplace dark where not even Erd could bring him back.
Instead of speaking, the younger twin held his tongue, letting his brother handle the conversing. He would do far better than Ard could, and the warlock desperately wanted this to go well. He did not want the Halcyon Commander to come to the conclusion that she was wasting her time with them, even though that was exactly what he thought. Well, not in regards to Erd, but… Frowning deeper, the boy’s turquoise eyes lowered, staring down at the running water along the cobblestone beneath their feet.
Clearly Marisol was in a mood, and he could not blame her. The world had gone tits up, a disastrous mess, and nothing that anyone did or suggested seemed to help. He didn’t blame her for her sour disposition, not at all, and his anxieties and panic was not caused by her. It wasn’t her fault, and he did not blame her. He could not, not when he understood it so well himself.
