[P] they say you love the rain

[Elena]

Some girls are full of heartache and poetry

She remembers when she had been young, before the deaths, before Murmuring Rivers, before Lilli even, before a lot of things. She had thought her father to be invincible. That he was made from oceanic rock and stone, carved from the very mountains that surrounded her home. He was the beginning and the end, and to see him lose, to see the blood coating his crimson coat, even when there was such a fight in his eyes, had been unsettling. She had loved her father for the fire in his eye, the strength to his stance, but he had been devoured by the ice.

His fire, it seems, was simply not strong enough.

From the ocean, the wind comes and tugs at the blonde strands of Elena’s hair. There is something in her smile that says it is not so easily one as it used to be. That she is having to fight and fight for this happiness she tries to feel. His quiet rejection of her still sits behind her ribs.

It remains stuck between her teeth. It is a constant ache, a biting reminder of the fact that despite the fact that he does not dismiss her, and despite the fact that they have a child together, he does not love her.

He had not returned the same love that had blossomed in her chest like a toxic flower. She had let it blossom. She had let it flourish.

The vines of it wrapped around her rib cage, dug thorns into her heart.

It stole her breath and she did nothing to displace it. Until that day he left her, until the day that daughter was born.

It was poisonous and she knows that if it ever came back, it ever bloomed, that it would kill her but she cannot bring herself to pull it out the roots of it. She does not water it, but neither does she rip it from the soil.

The only thing that gives her reprieve are the quiet moments with her daughter. The moments where she gets to learn about all the ways she sees the world. Where she can show her how blue the ocean is, and how friendly the creatures of the world are.

She aches for that little girl now, even while she stands her.

The emotion that the girl brings is one of stone, it is not foreign to her, Alvaro had offered her as much. Elena reads whatever sneaks underneath her skin, there are no ill intentions, but there is something rock solid and heavy that settles in the back of the empath’s mind. “Agreed,” she replies easily to the medic. “Please, join me, we will travel to the gardens,” she says and leaders the way before leaning slightly towards her. “You are Adonai’s sister?” She asks softly in silver tones. Elena knows the answer, but ever since her session with the pale stallion, she has been curious. “I treated him once, filled in for another Dusk medic,” she talks easily. Elena is not chatty, but she has always possessed her mother’s warm confidence and flows effortlessly into conversations. “Ahhh here we are,” she says and opens it wide. “Please, take whatever healing agents you need,” she says. “I heard there was a special technique used in Day for healing ailments of the stomach, I was hoping you could teach me. Dusk could benefit from it.”

those are the kind of girls who try to save wolves

instead of running from them