[P] climbing every rib inside us;

[Theodosia]

let our eyes show the
fire in our hearts tonight

There is a storm between her ribs and it aches to be released.

She has no time for rest, not when there is chaos nipping at her heels, not when she is barely treading water in a pool full of piranhas -- she knows there are eyes on her now, always, waiting to see her hesitate or to falter, determining if she will live up to her new title or if she will fall like the rest.

There is war on the horizon and enough graves amongst the grasses of their court that she cannot bear the thought of stopping, not when even considering a break feels like treason. Static ripples across her wings with every strike of her hooves against the training dummy, begging to be used, and she can taste the ozone in the back of her throat every time she swallows.

“Asterion,” she greets him with the barest dip of her head, her smile almost feral, and for the first time, she realizes how much her still-healing wounds have begun to ache.  “I would be honored if you would join me.”

credits

@Asterion