Noctisardor Bypass shotgun shuts his cakehole

despite that vex had high hopes for the effectiveness of a patrol calming his mind; it only seems to send him into a heightened awareness. he goes through the notions that any good hunter goes: that only something big can make a twig snap under foot, or make that much noise in their steps. something like a mighty beargod, for instance. despite that sos’ steps had been like the silence before the storm: an eerie calm that heralds the coming of something terrific and terrible, it doesn’t stop vex from peering over his shoulder at every noise; skin prickling and hackles bristling.

he almost loosens a snarl as the ghostly form of haunt approaches him; but calms the erratic race of his heart as his brain registers that it’s haunt; and is flooded with guilt that she looks worried. still convinced that her injury was, more or less, his fault he doesn’t want her to look worriedly at him. he doesn’t deserve it.

for a second, he considers lying to her. telling her he was fine. that nothing was wrong; and thinks better of it. he isn’t sure what he looked like but he felt like a spooked cat — minus the puffed tail and arched back.

surely, haunt, out of anyone, would understand. she’d told him about her dream, after all.

i …had a dream. just a dream. he places heavy emphasis upon it for his own sake; because he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. of course, given the lockdown arbiter had placed him and haunt on he probably was realistically be watched, especially on the borders. there was this bear. bigger than any i’ve ever seen before. it’s fur was as dark as the darkest, starless, moonless night sky. dark felt like an understatement. with glowing red eyes. called itself — vex chokes on the name, almost afraid to utter it out loud.

so much for being skeptical about deities.

sos. he called himself sos. vex forces sos’ name out, yet cannot help but whisper it as if he says it too loud the mighty beargod might appear. probably just because of your little bear name or something. he tries ( and fails ) to convince himself, his tone falling on the spectrum of highly unsure as he looks to haunt; silently pleading with her to tell him that he was being silly and that it was just a whacked dream.

word count: 405