Breathe for love tomorrow || p. Talitha

[Talitha de le Poer]

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[ooc] i've been dancing on the tops of buildings

—

[bic] at the top of my lungs, i'm singing you a song

Compared to a wolf's song, the call of a coyote was nothing more than screeching fingernails on chalkboards. That was why Talitha had never howled; the sound of her own scratchy, throaty yipping, with no true classification, was hard on her own ears. She winced a little when she heard the sound caress the air, and if there was ever one reason she would have preferred being a pureblood wolf, it would have been to be graced with their haunting voices. Nonetheless, she turned in the direction of the yipping call and, slowly, proceeded. Everything she did was carefully thought out, slow, and deliberate. Health and weight had returned to her at an alarming rate since the death of Andrezej, but even then she was haunted by the memory of him standing in the corners of her vision, plagued with nightmares about the rape, about the death of the man, and the spraying blood. Nightmares about curled fists and rough fingers and touches that pleased naught.

She couldn't get rid of them, even though he was dead. She had watched him die with her own eyes, had seen him lie there several days and now, knew that a stone marked his resting place. Talitha was not offended by the final act of peace upon his body; he was the last surviving relative of Rachias short of Laruku and they had stolen him from her. Talitha, though she would never admit it, would have been terribly heartbroken if Ezekiel was taken away from her. The Lykoi didn't want to think about her brother dying, though, and shut the thoughts out as if they needed to be snuffed out by her own mental wind.

It turned out it was Faolin on the sands, and Talitha's step lengthened until she stood by her mother's side, tail waving gently back and forth. She had mixed feelings about her mother returning to Inferni — after all, it was Talitha's fault she'd come back, leaving Ezekiel behind, but at the same time she was more than glad that the strong woman had returned — and therefore had found it increasingly awkward to be with her in one space with no other people to distract either of them. What could she possibly say? Had she never run away to return to Inferni and had she obeyed Gabriel and Anselm in the first place, she never would have had any issues with Andrezej, at least not while being held hostage. She supposed there was no way of telling whether she would have been violated no matter how things had turned out; he had clearly been hunting for her.

She didn't say anything, however. He eyes remained fixed upon the water and the way the sunlight danced over the surface, hesitant but strangely alluring, but she kept her words in her mouth. She didn't know where to begin, and couldn't figure out whether an apology was in order or not. Instead of struggling with it, the Lykoi opted for silence; she hoped her mother would understand.

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