STRANGERS UNTIL A STRANGER MAKES THE OLD HUNGERS
BRUTALLY WAKE
Here comes the dreamer, straight ahead, plumes of dust (no, of course not dust. salt) stirred up in small white clouds behind her heels. She is white and blue, just like the rest of the world around them, and the dream- how to describe it- it leans in toward her like flowers to the sun. Just as he wonders if maybe she's not going to stop, she does. This close, he can see the nuanced color in her soft eyes, the expression in them torn and confused. There are no introductions in the space of time as she stares and waits for him to-- to what?-- until finally she says “who did this?”
Oh.
After a look of surprise, his features soften in understanding. He looks at her very closely and speaks very seriously, so when he says “not me,” the answer will be easy to find in what goes unsaid:
“you did this.”
He lets his words sit heavily between them, uncertain how to proceed. She reminds him of something wild and unattainable-- a crane, or maybe the wind itself. But she is also, he is almost certain, just a girl. Just a confused, and scared, and maybe a little sad, girl.
“It’s okay. What happened here? Can you remember?” Dune finds it hard to look at anything other than her soft, wild eyes.
@Saphira <3
