Hushed Willows like eating glass

caught up in the moment, he'd forgotten he was looking for ibis at all. he stands for a long moment, holding his breath; he turns, the breath he'd held coming out in a slow woosh as he sees ibis crumpled on the ground. "oh! okeanos cries, rushing toward her to take her in his embrace. "ibis," he says, nearly a wail, "where did they go? what happened?"

for surely she just saw them, her last trip -- and maybe she got here soon enough to find out what happened now -- nightmare scenarios plague him, remembering the way the earth has trembled and shook, visions of his family crushed under rocks or swallowed whole by the ground. shuddering, he moves to bury his face in her neck, seeking comfort in her familiar feeling against him.