This keening soul;
Cure.
Leto sees the effect of that word upon the girl. She sees the way her lashes lower, her head bows and her heart sinks with the weight of sickness and of sorrow. It is no surprised for Leto. She has seen many like this girl before. The sick come to the Ilati with hope in their bones that the magic of Terrastella’s native healers might be enough for them.
They are content to turn their gaze from the Witch Doctor who opens the flesh of woodland animals in order to heal them. Sacrifices are just, she would say and the sick would not argue, not if it meant their life and health.
Iscariot reaches in, pressing a kiss to Leto’s brow. The bones in their hair chink together. There is something sacred in this moment. Some magic stirs and it is hot and full of sparks within Leto’s lungs.
Then Iscariot is moving. She is keen as she walks to the edge of the island and up onto the bridge of slick, slick glass. The star-girl follows her, amber eyes meeting silver as she steps up upon the bridge. “Come then, Iscariot. I will take you to your home.” Together they leave, heading along the dustbowl roads toward Tinea.
@Iscariot | "speaks" | notes: <3
