Now and then I think of when we were together

[Ocèane]

POSTED: Tue Feb 25, 2014 11:29 pm

[597] Shattered Coast, late afternoon. Much rambles; can skip to bottom. :)

Saltwater was something of an enigma to Domovoi. He had heard travelers cite its healing properties for soaking from time to time, though curiously they cautioned that drinking it had the opposing effect and could even prove fatal. He had never seen the ocean prior to a few months back, let alone tested the hearsay for truth. He was about to find out firsthand, and gritted his teeth in readiness. Gingerly the aching wolfdog sank into a squat by the rock pool, and began the laborious task of washing the wounds that crossed his hide. Some had healed faster than others, and the deeper punctures still cracked open and tinged the water pink when he moved too quickly.

He grunted aloud as the saline stung at his exposed flesh, but continued diligently to treat the scars Inferni had marked him with. He was still so weak — he could not risk any further infection, not when his wasting body could barely scavenge for meals as it was. A fever would starve him back to death's door. The steady ebb and flow of the tide rumbled in the background as he splashed the frigid water against his matted fur. The cliffs were bleak, oppressive; he found this empty coast to be a lonely place. The ocean was a majestic sight, but he purposely kept his head down; he was not here to wonder at nature.

He drew his breath in a sharp hiss as the saltwater stung him, and waited for the sensation to pass as his eyes watered. The ripples faded across the glassy surface of the rock pool, and afforded him a glimpse of his gaunt reflection: a haunted, broken stranger with a grim stare. He disrupted it with his hand, and returned to his task, trying to keep his mind from wandering. Domovoi felt sometimes like his head was filled with stories, languages, and knowledge — all of it belonging to someone else, because he had explored nothing for himself. Travelers had told him of broad wooden ships with sails that crossed the sea to exotic locales, but he had difficulty imagining something so fanciful in stark reality.

Dom had remained in the gypsy camp for most of his life while others came and went freely, and had been content to listen to tales and anchor himself to the only family he knew. His only motivation for leaving Sonnerie had been the upheaval of said family and his obsessive desire to reunite them and return to the pack with them in tow. He had never lived a life for himself outside of the constraints of family, not in his eyes. Even his romantic entanglements had been casual, kept at arms' length, never offered commitment or a future that could distract him from his loyalties.

It was disheartening how little ambition he had underneath it all. He was now without purpose. His siblings were out there somewhere, but all four cut him out of their lives after he had devoted himself to protecting them. Inferni should have just killed him — surviving in this purgatory was crueler. Somehow he did not know how to live or die.

The wolfdog straightened to his full height, still intimidating in stature but now with the desperate air of wounded prey evading his hunters. If the seawater did indeed keep his injuries clean, it would make sense to camp here. He could catch fish without much strenuous activity, and the salty air would disguise his scent. With a heavy sigh, the weary loner limped toward the craggy rocks, seeking the simplest of shelter.


User avatar
Miyu
Luperci
sentiment
endlessly
I'LL SAVE YOUR BONES

POSTED: Wed Feb 26, 2014 12:00 am

((562)) <333
Ocèane Aston
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer

Sharp bark dug into her back, pressing past thick chocolate fur to scrape at skin. Ocèane didn’t care at the pain; she welcomed it. It distracted her, if only a tad, from her foreboding thoughts. She rolled her head back, hitting it roughly against the trunk behind her. The Hineyu closed those bright pools of blue and shoved the palms of her hands over her eye sockets, rubbing to try and make it all go away. Stupid, she had been stupid. That was the simplest and most accurate word for what she had done. She couldn’t have lived out her entire life without something coming back to her. She couldn’t have left it all behind like she had hoped. Karma was something she had never believed in, but now she was second guessing it. She couldn’t have expected to screw up so bad and have nothing happen to her to punish her for it. She was an awful mother, and not even her own brother could contradict her on that. She’d seen the disappointment in their eyes, all of them. She’d failed every single one.

And Attila was back, he’d already met Amorette. She had yet to face him, but she figured she’d gotten the worst out of the way. Had it been the Great Tribe her forgotten daughters had found her in, there would have been some form of humiliation or consequences. Family was so important; she, out of all people, should know that. Hers had been broken, her mother vanished, her father a demon, her sister killed. Why would she push more away? She was weak and afraid, that’s what she was. And now she would probably never understand what it was like to have children that truly loved you. She was just awful. She sickened herself.

The woman sat there for a long time, not opening her eyes until the self-depreciating thoughts passed. Until she could stand. The Hineyu, with a little help from the tree trunk, rose to her feet. With a hand still cradling her head like she would had she a piercing headache, she stepped from the shadowed underside of the tree, and then she fell.

Something tall, furry, and smelling of congealed blood collided with her side, and Oce lost her balance and pitched backward, shoulder blades hitting the tree. Oh, my God, I’m sorry. She didn’t usually use the exclamation, but she really was. Now she really did have a headache; but she deserved it. The Aston wasn’t usually so careless; how had she not scented or gained wind of the oncoming body? Perhaps it was the salty air and the pounding in her head. That’s when Ocèane looked up to the stranger’s face, and instantly regretted it. Oh, my God. She exclaimed again, first only seeing the red gashes and hollow cheek bones, the matted fur and clouded eyes. The woman stood, planning to apologize again, before the features and the scent and the eyes all made sense and she took an unsteady step backwards, the back of her heel hitting a tree root so that her shoulders hit the tree again. Oh, my God! She exclaimed for a third time, the headache vanishing in a moment of freezing cold clarity. Ocèane snapped her head backwards against the tree, a cold stone settling in her stomach. Karma was a douche.

Image by Pilottage
Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Wed Feb 26, 2014 1:26 am

[502] ahhh loved your intro~~ <333

The sheer rock face held several small caves on his level, but judging by the puddles and flotsam littering the ground, they would flood at high tide. He knew he would need to reach higher ground for shelter, but he was far too feeble to scale the crags. Instead the wolfdog limped along the coast, raising his elongated muzzle to test the salty air from time to time, searching for something he wasn't sure he would ever find.

A copse of trees drew him, even as his shoulders slumped in defeat; he had just made it out of the endless forest of winter, and here he was being drawn back in. At least it was close to the saltwater that would preserve him. He just wanted rest. The oppressive stillness was suddenly broken by a glimpse of movement, but Dom was too despondent to react in time.

Warm fur collided into him, and he uttered a groan and immediately doubled over in pain, clutching at his wounded side with white-knuckled fingers. Sheer willpower kept him on his feet, for the brute instinct told him if this was an attack, he could not afford to lose his sole advantage - height. Bluffing was his best option.

The searing flash receded into a dull throb, and he glared venomously at the dark brown shape that had rammed him without warning. Lips peeled back to halfheartedly bare teeth, but it was obvious the man was in no shape to defend himself. Perhaps he would die here.

A feminine cry repeated itself several times over, though the inflection was markedly different each time. His sluggish thoughts caught up as he squinted at the wolf before him, uncertain why the female had recoiled at the sight of him after the tackle. It finally clicked that she had not intended to hurt him at all, and now had her back pressed awkwardly against a tree as though hoping her dark brown fur would camouflage her.

Pale eyes stared down at the wolf for a long moment, and his old habit of vigilance kicked in — he looked for details, clues, to fill in the blanks so that he would not have to interact long. She wore blue feathers braided into her thick mane, and that made Dom stare the hardest. A half-forgotten memory was stirring; where had he seen that style of decoration before?

He let his silent snarl smooth back into a neutral expression, though he still eyed her with overt suspicion in case it was some sort of trick. He was weak on his feet, and she could drop him to his knees with one push. He had no possessions to his name and could think of no reason why deception would be necessary, but he could trust no one. Her presence was unsettling. If she wanted to flee, he was hardly fit to pursue her, and would be relieved to return to the bleak solitude.

Her scent, though... that, too, held echoes of something familiar, but distant.


User avatar
Miyu
Luperci
sentiment
endlessly
I'LL SAVE YOUR BONES

POSTED: Wed Feb 26, 2014 7:52 pm

((675)) Bah all of your words are beautiful<3
Ocèane Aston
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer

Pounding; that was all there was. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and every thump brought a sickening feeling to her stomach. The impact had been minor; no such injury should have come of it. But all of the thoughts and feelings and stress were there; all it needed was a push to wrap around her head and squeeze. The woman flinched away from the sharp bark against her shoulders; she didn’t need any more pain, she had enough. When she saw the man’s face a sharp pain jabbed at her head, and she closed her eyes again, this time thumping her head against the tree on purpose. Maybe she would pass out. She wished she would have.

As it was, she had to make a double take to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Domovoi was nothing as she remembered him. Last time she’d seen him had been nearly a year ago; then, he’d been bent on revenge, and he’d had an honest purpose. This Luperci was broken, thick dog fur matted, open gashes criss-crossing his thin and sickly body, light eyes glassy. Surely this couldn’t have been who she thought it was. She was crazy, she was thinking up things she shouldn’t have. Olivia and Amorette’s appearance had her on edge, that was all. This was just some wolf dog that looked like the Tarasova, it wasn’t him. Her exclamation was followed up with a confused expression, consisting of Ocèane’s head tipping, trying to puzzle together the stranger through the foggy thumping in her head. Obviously the impact had done more pain to him than to her; at least, for a moment. The own pounding in her head receded, though it still distracted her from being as sensible as she could be. She picked up sounds of a snarl she felt no threat, as he was obviously far from defending himself or chasing her off.

She’d settled on the fact that this wasn’t who she thought it was, so she straightened again, opening her mouth to attempt at apologizing once more, before she stopped, unsure of herself. Ocèane never second guessed herself; so why was she now? The man didn’t recognize her, but there was something else there. That’s when the rest of the pieces clicked into place and she made her final exclamation, stepping back so she wasn’t at such close proximity to him and so that she could shoulder herself at the tree that had caused her both pain and shelter. Though the headache was fading the panic didn’t, it just took place of what was once there. She could run; she could have run right now, she could flee from another remnant of her past. But she couldn’t; it would be wrong. Karma, yes she had to call it that- it was trying to give her what she deserved, and she had to take it. She had to stop running and own up to it. Could she even fix it anymore? She wanted Amorette and Olivia to love her; maybe this was a sign she had to come clean to them. But she knew she couldn’t bring herself to.

The woman finally found the desire to open her eyes; recoiling at the colors that bombarded her senses but finally letting them settle, eyeing the wolfdog again. His expression had turned from something poisonous to something wary, and she mirrored it, pressing her arm against the trunk so that she stood straight. You look like crap. Was the first thing she said. Probably not the best thing to say; but she didn’t feel like caring about formalties or feelings at the moment; she didn’t think it was necessary, anyway. Ocèane brought her hand to her forehead again, pulling away a strand of hair that obscured her view to behind her tall ear before pressing her head to her palm, halting her vision behind eyelids again, finding herself longing for unconsciousness again. Maybe if she hit her head against the tree hard enough that would knock her out.

Image by Pilottage
Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Thu Feb 27, 2014 6:09 am

[534] eeee! o///o

Domovoi found it difficult to concentrate on much these days. His thoughts were hazy, as though he was wandering through thick fog trying to make out the shapes of his surroundings. The bits and pieces he did remember were safe — like the saltwater and the ships — harmless stories that would not touch the raw emotion lingering underneath these healing scars. Whenever he started to remember family, his thoughts quickly steered him in another direction, avoiding even their names.

It protected his fragile state of existence those few moments longer, as his loss was too great to mourn. He knew it was all there, he could never forget, but he couldn't handle it when he was already so weak. The innate defense mechanism was trying to warn him now: something about the girl with the blue feathers was unsettling, not safe. He should not try to remember, because it could hurt much worse than when she touched him.

He did not move much after she backed away, inwardly hesitant and outwardly wary. This wolf was acting strangely. She still offered no verbal explanation for her behavior, and if she had not been so well fed and groomed, he might have thought her avoidance of eye contact meant she was a frightened captive on the run. Dom did not break his stare when she scrunched her eyes shut and thumped her head against the tree, and he snorted in impatience when she did not move to leave afterward. Perhaps something was wrong with her mind, from an old head wound or something. She could speak more than one utterance, couldn't she?

Slowly the stranger seemed to find a measure of calmness. She braced her arm against the trunk for support, deliberately letting her lashes flutter open. The seafoam-hued eyes set against chocolate and cream fur made her impossibly familiar. Suddenly he stiffened upright — the name sprang to his tongue, but at first his lips parted without a sound. His heart lurched violently in his chest as memories of blue feathers and long nights around the campfire came flooding back en masse.

"O... Ocèane?! C'est des conneries," Dom cursed in hoarse disbelief, switching to French without realizing he had done so. Of course, she spoke French. A deep scowl darkened his expression as he wrestled with the unwelcome surge of recognition. She was a traveler from the east who spent the winter with the gypsies, her tribe used feathers as hair decorations, sometimes she danced in front of the fire and he liked to watch the light gleam along her dark pelt — and she had certainly heard him swear enough times in the past; he had no reason to mince words with her now.

He realized she had spoken and obviously remembered him too, and he barked a laugh — a strained, mirthless sound that was anything but amused. "Casse-toi! You look like you haven't changed at all. What the hell are you doing here? Did you follow me?" His hackles were rising, and he couldn't even explain why he suddenly felt so angry. She had broken his trance, and he supposed it was simply better to defend himself first than to let her break his heart, too.


User avatar
Miyu
Luperci
sentiment
endlessly
I'LL SAVE YOUR BONES

POSTED: Thu Feb 27, 2014 5:26 pm

((622)) adkhfdsa
Ocèane Aston
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer

Idiocy, fate, disgust, hatred, hot, cold, love, shattered, terminated. The words fluttered like hyperactive birds through her mind; when they collided with the side of her skull in a painful jab colors exploded and emotions boiled. Opening her eyes made it worse; he’d been staring at her the whole time. She was immersed in blue. She’d used to associate the color with warmth and security; but now is just made her uneasy, it made her feel the guilt all over again. Light blue; the colors of glassy skies. Now it was the color that defined her mistakes, and so she closed her eyes, she cut it off once more. Even after her vision was gone she still saw; scenarios raced through the ridges of her mind. She could still run; the path was open. But she doubted she would be able to make it far with the pulsing in her head and the unsteadiness she felt in her bones. She saw nothing past the moment she lived in, it was all becoming so fast and heated that she was second-guessing herself on even opening her eyes. But she did, painfully making eye contact, slowly pulling her hand away from her head, and when she looked on the lighter-dodged fur that tinted her fingers she saw traces of red. The sharp bark must have cut her when she’d hit her head on the tree again. Ocèane stared at it for several moments before she groaned, falling into the hard embrace of the trunk behind her again, pressing her head into palms for what had to be the hundredth time.

The first thing that she heard was her stuttered name, and then a curse in another tongue; one she was still able to comprehend. She still didn’t open her eyes. The colors she saw hurt her head, especially the blue. She needed to avoid the blue at all costs. It was easier to think this way, too; without seeing. At least his fevered mind had been able to comprehend who she was. It was following with another passionate swear, and then a series of questions. The words had barely left his mouth before she shook her head and pulled her fingers from her face, glaring at him with piercing eyes. She half-heartedly wiped the small trail of blood that trickled from above her brow; managing to successfully smear it into her dark fur and giving her a more menacing look. Arrête. She hissed; it was the first thing she could think of to say, before more sensible words came. Unfortunately I can’t say the same for you. I could blow on you and you’d fall over, so don’t even try to act so high and mighty, hotshot. Speaking was painful too. The Hineyu closed her eyes and leaned against the tree again, dragging her hands past her forehead to her hair; the motion helped her calm her fluttering heartbeat. God, no. I didn’t follow you. Another shaky breath, and she opened her eyes again, but she still avoided the blue. She shouldn’t have acted so brash and angry, either; she had no right. But neither did he. She had decided to leave him, and she didn’t know whose right it was to be angry. Okay, maybe he had some reason, but not enough to spit profanity and disbelief. I’ve been here all this time. Most of it. It was only a partial lie; after Lac Sakami she’d turned right around and came home. She hadn’t looked back since the day Amorette and Olivia had come to her, not since she’d pushed her entire family so far away she feared she’d never get a single one of them back.

Image by Pilottage

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Fri Feb 28, 2014 5:16 am

[416] :DDD

She glared at him with cold, defiant eyes, and his teeth flashed in the instinctive challenge of a beast. "Try it and find out," Dom snarled and took an aggressive step forward, about to pin her bodily against the tree. How dare Ocèane order him, threaten him, insult him at a time like this! She held no power over him. Couldn't she see he was in no mood for her? He had enough problems without this complication from his past resurfacing. He would not let her back in when it was so easy for her to dance her way back out.

She wouldn't meet his eyes again. Nostrils flared at the scent of blood — not his for once, but a small trickle of hers matting the fur along her forehead. It left an ache in his chest that made it difficult to draw breath. The initial shock was fading, and he did not want to hurt her. He lacked the energy to sustain the defensive anger, and he lacked the will to drive her off. But of course, she must have known that all along.

The proximity was too close, and his posture sagged into a weary slouch, no longer threatening toward the tribal wolf. He leaned heavily against his own tree as she spoke, his head bowed underneath the weight of their reunion. "If you didn't follow me, why are you here? Surely you of all people didn't settle down," he muttered, features permanently creased into a scowl.

"Is... this where your tribe lives?" She had not spoken much of her birthplace, so all he knew was that it lay east of Sonnerie. He had never expected to see the Aston female again after they parted ways, and was surprised he even remembered that much. "What were you running from?" he prodded, pale eyes narrowed. She had been startled to collide with him, after all.

It was difficult to imagine coincidence or even fate having blown them back together in this bleak wasteland without either of them meaning for it to happen, but he did believe that she had no reason to track him down on purpose. She was a wanderer, never anchored to one place or bond long, and he had accepted that. Liked it, even. She did not seek commitment that he could not give her.

Ocèane would not even fathom how far he had fallen since then — he was not the man he used to be. Nothing remained of their time together.


User avatar
Miyu
Luperci
sentiment
endlessly
I'LL SAVE YOUR BONES

POSTED: Fri Feb 28, 2014 8:00 pm

((730)) <3
Ocèane Aston
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer

The pain only offered relief. Through the cut against her skin, she felt like the headache had an opening to escape, the blood that dripped carrying away the mixed emotions and heaviness of her heart. The cold breeze bit at the dampness on her face; she took a sharp breath of it, hands shaking, mind slowly falling into something more organized. She just needed a little bit of pain, an open wound where everything that was bent on exploding inside could slowly fade. She found refuge there, but a retaliating snarl caused her to raise her gaze; falling still short of those eyes, only watching his muzzle, the sharp teeth that were so readily able to rip at her. But she wouldn’t have minded if Domovoi attacked her. It would cause hurt, and pain, and the blood heavy with feelings to escape. She almost wished he had; to give her a piece ever so small of what she deserved, to provide relief from the moment. But he didn’t; somehow she knew he wouldn’t. Her ears fell back, trusting the tree fully to hold her weight. She dipped her head only slightly, eyes moving away, catching the light colored tip of a feather that stuck from her hair. She rose her fingers to gently pull it off, brow creasing as she ran her fingers along the soft edge.

She knew the questions would follow, and though she had some of her own, she knew that the Tarasova probably had more. Ears falling forward to catch the words, she blinked hard at the bird plumage in her fingers, only slightly raising her eyes to respond. I… am done with travelling. That was true. She’d gotten more than she’d bargained for last time; it had scared her, and it had screwed her up. She figured she’d explored everything there was to explore, anyway. But her wanderlust was still there. She was rarely found within AniWaya’s borders, she spent most of the time in Nova Scotia. There were still so many corners of her homeland she hadn’t discovered, but she wouldn’t go farther than that, in fear something would come back to her. Except her plan had failed, it would have found her wherever she was. AniWaya is not far from here, yes. She spoke softly, the feeling of the feather’s fibers beneath her fingers calming. The last inquiry was the one she had been dreading, and she hadn’t time to prepare for it. What had she run from? Oh, there were so many things. And she couldn’t tell him any of them. She’d ran from motherhood, most of all. As well as from the man before her; not out of fear, out of confusion. Confusion of her own feelings. She couldn’t accompany him on his revenge quest, and she knew she would have just held him back from what he wanted. She’d run because she didn’t know what to do, and she thought it would save her. But it didn’t. None of these she could speak, and she had to come up with an answer soon. Each thought passed through her head within heartbeats, and the pause was only minor. She rose her eyes, finally finding his, and when she did, she wanted to recoil; she wanted to melt. But instead she just pressed her ears into her head and blinked; the contact only lasting a partial second. I don’t know. Only a partial lie; she really wasn’t sure the true reason out of the many she knew. She groped for something else, something to explain herself, but there was nothing. He would just have to think of her as an awful heart-breaker; a weakling, whatever it was that was running through his mind. She didn’t think it would matter what he thought of her, anyway. Their time was over.

Ocèane’s eyes found a swollen wound along his arm, and she leaned forward, if only slightly so. What happened? Her hand moving from the feather, maybe to touch the broken flesh; before she caught what she was doing, and quickly moved it to her feather, and then her hair; to slip the plumage back into its place behind her ear. God, she had to control herself. Now her eyes avoided him completely, instead deciding to watch the wind blow a whorl of powdery snow from a bank far away.

Image by Pilottage
Océane Aston

User avatar
Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

POSTED: Sun Mar 09, 2014 8:48 am

[648] <3

He might have preferred the snarling if there had been any fight left in her. Dom did not expect her to agree with his callous assessment, but Ocèane was no longer the traveler she had been. She had settled, and she seemed more muted now than his vague recollections asserted. The fire of passion did not burn behind her gaze; there was a lack of confidence written in the lines of her posture, or some other such dearth.

He exhaled in a snort. He would have probed her for more answers, but he knew all too well that he was faded too. Beaten down, trodden upon – the past year had not been kind to either of them. Further inquiries would be useless to him, and he did not particularly care to know that she suffered.

His softening stare lingered on the feather she stroked between fingertips, betraying her discomfort. His stomach clenched in disgust at his knee-jerk reaction to her initial appearance, and he regretted letting his temper and paranoia flare so instinctively. She would not have followed him here unless she ever wanted to see him again, which was clearly not the case. Seafoam eyes rose briefly to meet ice blue. She didn’t want to even look at him, though it was hard for him to tear his eyes away.

He averted his stare to the ground, tail hanging limp behind him. "Are you safe in AniWaya?" Dom asked dubiously. That was all he would need to know – that she was not fleeing from something worse than him. It was simpler to believe that others did better when they were not around him, as had now been plainly proven.

His heart lurched painfully at the question she posed in return. Her fingers hung poised in midair before retreating to her mane, and he shifted his weight uncomfortably, trying to gauge whether or not she wanted to touch him. He did not know how he would react if she did – perhaps he would shatter to pieces, or perhaps he would lash out and break her.

Ocèane knew more than most about his mess of a situation, so he mercifully did not have to explain much. However, it also meant she was too close – she knew too much, made it too personal. She was one of the few who had known him before his chest was scarred – and how many new scars now crossed his miserable hide should tell her how difficult the journey east was.

Dom swallowed hard, though his throat remained choked. "I lost," was the simple response, and behind it: I lost them. I lost everything. He had genuinely never believed he could fail, and the strength of his faith, of his righteousness, had been a dangerous driving force. He thought the ends would justify the means, so he would use any means necessary. But he did fail, he had gone too far to recover, and now he had nothing to show for it all. It was a struggle to continue standing, even with body propped against the tree's support.

He drew a shuddering breath and added hoarsely, "Inferni did this. That’s where it ended. They think I’m dead, so it’s over." By all rights, he should have been dead – and there was still time to succumb to the elements, infection, starvation. He already felt like a walking corpse. He did not know what the point of surviving was now that he had failed his family – now that his family wanted him dead too.

His pale eyes closed tightly, trying to shut down the swell of emotion. If he started crying now, he might never be able to stop. It was too much, and he clutched his injured arm too tightly, using the flash of pain to mask the grimace contorting his muzzle. He could stave it off just a little longer. He was not ready.


User avatar
Miyu
Luperci
sentiment
endlessly
I'LL SAVE YOUR BONES

POSTED: Mon Mar 10, 2014 7:54 pm

((733))
Ocèane Aston
You're so fresh to death and sick as cancer

After sufficiently watching the snow swirl into shapeless whorls, the Hineyu chanced another glance at Domovoi; just to find his eyes were avoiding hers as much as she was his. She found herself craving him to look at her, just to see his eyes, just to see if she could gauge the amount of hurt she was causing. To see if she needed to run now. But she couldn’t, the shining piercing at the tip of his eyebrow would have to suffice. Her eyes clouded again, depression in its purest form flooding her features for a brief moment before she set a hand against the tree, willing her unimaginably weak bones to hold her upright. The next question was like a blow in the gut and she tipped her head to the right after a brief pause, and it took every fiber of muscle to keep herself standing and to form an answer, voice broken and soft. He asked if I was safe. Very. All of my family is there. All of it. She thought, a wince tumbling from her throat, and she wanted to melt again.

The following words defined everything about what he was and what he had become. I lost. More than just a single battle. He’d lost an entire war; one he’d stood for. The woman looked to him from beneath lashes, the stone in her stomach so heavy she feared she wouldn’t be able to stand any more. Inferni. Of course, it was clear Kharma would go there. Possibly some of the Tarasova’s half-siblings, as well. If they thought he was dead, it would surely sever many of the remaining relationships her old lover held, be it family or blood feud. A thought made its appearance into Ocèane’s weakened mind, and her eyes moved from Domovoi to the surrounding forest. What of his sister? What was her name… Avernus? She figured surely she, of all people, would stick with her brother. But as she found no sign of her, the Aston decided to leave the topic alone. She didn’t want to cause any more pain, the man looked like he could barely stand. But then again, the same was of her. With the silence came the weight of secrets and the striking up of her migraine once more. She wanted to tell him; to spill all of it, every last drop. She was done hiding things, but she wasn’t. Somehow she knew she couldn’t tell him. Not now; probably never. The woman sighed, shakily and unsteadily, and she had to refrain from reaching forward and stroking his shoulder. Instead, she just watched the top of his head, breaking. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. For all of it. I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for not telling you you’re more than just a broken man. The words pressed at her lips and teeth; begging to break through. But she didn’t allow them. She barred them, just how she barred the pain and the emotions. The woman glanced at the other side of the tree she had leaned on, to the strewn strap of the satchel she had carried. Something had told her not to empty it of the healing supplies it had held for so long; she hadn’t taken them out since she returned from her misadventures. She knew they were there for a purpose, now, and maybe her luck wasn’t all bad. Bandages. I have some, I mean. Those will get infected. Ocèane looked to the wounds that marked his body, knowing that infection would surely kill him in his weak state. She knew for a fact she couldn’t let him die. The woman lowered herself to snatch up the bag, carefully standing again. She unclipped it to pull out the two rolls of white bandaging. Somewhat primitive, but they did well to keep any bacteria and infection out. She was surprised they were as clean as they were. I can help you, She added, though wasn’t completely sure the man would accept. He might just take it and leave, which she didn’t have a problem with. Though something in her hoped he wouldn’t. She didn’t want him to leave yet, even though she knew it would happen soon. She could offer Domovoi this small relief, a small reimburse for what she had done so long ago.

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Océane Aston

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Ann
Luperci the rules of paradise are never nice
I want your fears, your hopes
the whole kaleidoscope

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