Dragoncrest Cliffs maybe spit some blood at the camera, just stay alive

”It should’ve been me.” She looked up from her consoling of Natjuk at those words, and the pure anguish that dredged up from Verx’s plight. This wasn’t her place to speak. Not when tensions were so high, and would remain so for some time. But it didn’t stop her heart from stuttering, just as hiccuppy as her expression couldn’t be. No. No, my love. Your life has as much meaning here as Antumbra’s—as everyone here. We need as much of ourselves if we are meant to heal. Her quiet, inscrutable gaze went to Mallaidh, Dio, and an obsidian male she was unfamiliar with; all sorrowful, withdrawn, as she.

None of their deaths would have saved heda—or bring her back. Such beliefs would remain for the better part of the rest of their lives; it was how you grew after mourning which mattered. How you forgave yourself, even if you doubted you ever could. Aure’s views were faded, but frienzied all the same; she didn’t even know what sense they made, if anyhing at all. She didn’t even know who would want to be helped in this aftermath, or how she would shoulder it; be present for it.

But she would be damned if she found that anyone, mate or no, brana or no, would condemn themselves for something so out of reason or control—which had been possessed by Antumbra’s choice alone. But maybe it made sense to all of these wrought-up minds, when logic seemed myth. So she remained hidden, her words returning to her pensive person, and fell back into silence.

6am no sleep writing sry if this is wonky y’all