Dark had swept across the coast, a looming and haunting black. It crept until it swallowed everything, blanketing the world in shadow. When starlight began to appear through the clouds, he was deep in the forest by the sea. Cicadas hummed from the underbrush. The music of the late night.
The bear had found him in his dreams again. Swordfish did not know how to escape it. He had watched the animal die. He had seen the last moments of life leave through the monster’s burning, hungry gaze. When the bear had ceased fighting, when the blood no longer pooled against the earth, when the long shadows had come and swallowed them both, Swordfish had cried. Bathed in crimson and wounds, he sobbed into the ground until he felt that his life too would cease and he would join his family, finally fulfilled. When hours had passed and the deep dark of night had swallowed him and the body of the bear, he picked himself up and staggered into the unknown.
The bear was dead. The bear was dead. Swordfish was enraged. Why had it not stopped? The gaping hole in his spirit had not been filled. He hadn’t understood. Blind with emotion, the boy had stumbled to the waters edge and collapsed. He had cried out to the sky and the stars and the great glowing moon - why does it hurt! It’s too much. It’s too much.
Standing in the shade of the forest, Swordfish stared blankly at trees. He’d thought that revenge would heal him. He had believed that the death of the bear would return sense to the world, fill the chasm inside of him.
But the truth is that some holes keep going. Yawning, heady, insatiable. There would be no healing from that gaping wound of his spirit. There would always be a darkness with the eyes of a bear.
The bear had found him in his dreams again. Swordfish did not know how to escape it. He had watched the animal die. He had seen the last moments of life leave through the monster’s burning, hungry gaze. When the bear had ceased fighting, when the blood no longer pooled against the earth, when the long shadows had come and swallowed them both, Swordfish had cried. Bathed in crimson and wounds, he sobbed into the ground until he felt that his life too would cease and he would join his family, finally fulfilled. When hours had passed and the deep dark of night had swallowed him and the body of the bear, he picked himself up and staggered into the unknown.
The bear was dead. The bear was dead. Swordfish was enraged. Why had it not stopped? The gaping hole in his spirit had not been filled. He hadn’t understood. Blind with emotion, the boy had stumbled to the waters edge and collapsed. He had cried out to the sky and the stars and the great glowing moon - why does it hurt! It’s too much. It’s too much.
Standing in the shade of the forest, Swordfish stared blankly at trees. He’d thought that revenge would heal him. He had believed that the death of the bear would return sense to the world, fill the chasm inside of him.
But the truth is that some holes keep going. Yawning, heady, insatiable. There would be no healing from that gaping wound of his spirit. There would always be a darkness with the eyes of a bear.
June 17, 2024, 02:52 AM
Bridget knew she should return soon but wasn’t quite ready to go home just yet. The shore was peaceful and she knew there would be questions when she got back. For once she didn’t look forward to the conversations.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk about Teya leaving. She would do anything she could to ease that transition for everyone involved, and honestly, it might be nice to have that to help her through it as well. It just… wasn’t easy, looking at the days ahead and wondering what her life might look like. Brecheliant was great. But it only ever felt like home because she’d been there.
She was thinking about leaving too. That was the part she struggled with.
Bridget sighed as she picked her way carefully through the trees, then startled slightly as a figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Well shit, she’d been so caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realized that she was not alone here.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk about Teya leaving. She would do anything she could to ease that transition for everyone involved, and honestly, it might be nice to have that to help her through it as well. It just… wasn’t easy, looking at the days ahead and wondering what her life might look like. Brecheliant was great. But it only ever felt like home because she’d been there.
She was thinking about leaving too. That was the part she struggled with.
Bridget sighed as she picked her way carefully through the trees, then startled slightly as a figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Well shit, she’d been so caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realized that she was not alone here.
Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Which says more about my survival instincts than you, apparently. I hope I’m not intruding.She hadn’t noticed a scent line but hey, maybe she’d missed it too. (Seemed implausible, but better to get ahead of it just in case.)
June 17, 2024, 10:26 AM
A woman’s voice pulled him from his trance.
The sea blue of his eyes switched to her, noting the bright colors that adorned her coat - vibrant red being the most prominent. Then-
Swordfish gawked at her for a moment, gazing at the stump where her leg should be. There was nothing but a scar to show what had once been. The young man thought it bewildering that she had lost an entire leg and still roamed so close to the sea. A short distance away, he could barely pick up on the scent of her.
Swordfish huffed a breath through his nose and pulled his eyes away from her missing appendage. He returned the sea blue stare to her face, the brightness of her eyes. The simple muttered apology wasn’t really enough to cover the moron’s fumbling first words.
The sea blue of his eyes switched to her, noting the bright colors that adorned her coat - vibrant red being the most prominent. Then-
Yer missin’ a leg…
Swordfish gawked at her for a moment, gazing at the stump where her leg should be. There was nothing but a scar to show what had once been. The young man thought it bewildering that she had lost an entire leg and still roamed so close to the sea. A short distance away, he could barely pick up on the scent of her.
Sorry- I-
Swordfish huffed a breath through his nose and pulled his eyes away from her missing appendage. He returned the sea blue stare to her face, the brightness of her eyes. The simple muttered apology wasn’t really enough to cover the moron’s fumbling first words.
I never met someone missin’ a leg like that. It’s… kinda cool.
June 19, 2024, 09:31 AM
Even with everything weighing on her mind, his words managed to surprise a genuine laugh out of her. It came out before she could stop it, even if she’d wanted to, and it felt nice.
It was easy to forget about it, but she appreciated that he shared her optimism. At least about this, she amended internally, unsure how to read his general demeanor.
Oh, god, sorry. That’s just the first I’ve ever heard that.She glanced back at her leg, then replied with a laugh still underlying the words.
You’re right though. It’s at least a little cool.
It was easy to forget about it, but she appreciated that he shared her optimism. At least about this, she amended internally, unsure how to read his general demeanor.
I’m Bridget. Currently from Brecheliant, way over… somewhere. I was traveling with a friend, but she needed a change of scenery. You just passing through too?
June 20, 2024, 10:22 AM
She laughed.
Thank god…
Swordfish visibly sagged as relief washed over him. The woman seemed like she was good-natured enough. Realizing this was something of a shock for him as well. She had lost one of her legs and yet she was willing to laugh about it, to engage in conversation with a bright expression and kindness that layered each word she spoke.
A strange sense of envy filled him, spreading through like thick fog off the water.
How could she be so normal? What had she done to recover from her loss? And then, he wondered why he could not do the same.
Thank god…
Swordfish visibly sagged as relief washed over him. The woman seemed like she was good-natured enough. Realizing this was something of a shock for him as well. She had lost one of her legs and yet she was willing to laugh about it, to engage in conversation with a bright expression and kindness that layered each word she spoke.
A strange sense of envy filled him, spreading through like thick fog off the water.
How could she be so normal? What had she done to recover from her loss? And then, he wondered why he could not do the same.
Bridget. Suits ya.As much as a name could. The bright red on her face was striking and captivating.
I’m Shardik. I used to live out here. Now I’m helpin’ some-some deranged lunatic of a man who can scarcely help himself.
Helpin’ a friend, I guess. Ya hungry? I got some fish back there.The young man gestured toward the beach. It seemed she was far from home and though he did not do it intentionally, he worried that she might not be that good at catching her own meals.
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