—like held breath,
the stars drew in their panting fires
☼
IHer initial reply was a gentle hmph, barely a sound within the silence of the desert. What she eventually offered was just as vague. “Fair enough.” Were she feeling bolder, she might’ve invited him to explain why he would appreciate it—what was the novelty in unearthing the finer details of, yes, a stranger?
She could’ve guessed that it was the opportunity to look beyond strangeness, and to gather some sense of familiarity. No matter the case, she’d already resolved it was a discourse beyond her current realm of interest. Given the chance, she had no doubt either of them could’ve spoken their strange philosophies until the desert swallowed them whole. Her biggest would’ve been the simultaneously impermanence and infiniteness of time, as she’d learned firsthand: how the world could pass in both the blink of an eye while seeming to drag on for eternity. So much had surely left her in the dust, and yet she had done nothing but atrophy.
Another sharp lungful of air braced her to continue speaking, to share with him the scarce details of the shackles she wore, and to be resolutely surprised by his disinterest in further investigating.
It brought a slight narrow to her brow, waiting for the inevitable moment that the other shoe might drop, as her lips thinned. He spoke again, and yet still, it was not helpless curiosity that drove him forward—it was a kindly solution, one that made her unhealthy heart twitch with skepticism.
But his head angled in the other direction, and loathe as she was to admit it, the once-woman of Solterra knew she would mistakenly wander for days to come if she didn’t heed his offer. And truth be told, the idea of temperance within this hour of chaos with irresistible. Her cloven hooves paused as his did, her body angling in the direction he looked, and she fixed with the eyes of a hawk.
Slowly, she watched him—measuring the finer aspects of his posture, his expression, his intent. The misanthropy was enough to deepen the furrow of his brow, and she regarded him with mild contempt, undoubtedly berating her own helplessness to accept his offer. The invitation was harmless enough, at least.
I do recall you wish to get away from this ‘hellish place,’ yes?
A huff of laughter left her lips, though it was dry of humor.
“You’re full of surprises, Avallac’h,” she hummed, though the meaning of her words was no doubt ambivalent. A smile flicked the corner of her scarred lips upward, and she slowly conceded her position.
“Lead on.”
Speech, @"Avallac'h"
