Two Eyes Cenote beryllium

Because it was Tavina- because it was her stoic figure, the woman who had all the answers, who could augur the ills of the world and heal with only a touch-  it hurts much more deeply. Eset catches her despair, pliable in her hands, the midnight silks of hebsut and sesh blending.

If she had the wisdom to conjure the words that could stop the past from breaking out into their hearts- would it all go away? She closes her eyes into Tavina’s bent shoulder, listening, narrow jaw clinching only to release again.

“I’ve never- truly been able to control how I feel. We can lie to ourselves. I think it works, for a time,” the coywolf quivers. Grief, and anger. These were the things she felt in the hours before waking, as essential to her identity as the desert and the Gods who preside over it. Resentment, coming to claim her.

“Your wife is gone, Tavina. It is a loss. It’s a death,” she wounds her arms tightly over the woman’s back, “it is alright to feel anger- anger can sometimes be a powerful motivator.” Eset releases a breath into Tavina’s nape and slowly pulls her chin back to look into her face.

“May I show you something?”