Shadowwyn Moor stare down the barrel

ezra does not counter her logic as she offers it, because he can't. she's right, of course. sleep was essential but also felt impossible when thoughts haunt him like his mind was the ghosts of regret and worry's own personal graveyard; morphing into nightmares that do not allow ezra a peaceful night's sleep.

flashes of them pass across his mind's eye: a black plague dripping from his mother's mouth as she begs him to run, the imagined press of amadeo's teeth at his throat ... ezra barely suppresses the shudder that threatens to slither down his spine.

but he has no intentions of trauma dumping on suliya.

a couple of veeks, ezra admits. my father and brother have been here longer. he offers in explanation. it was because of them he was here ... and though it still physically hurt him to think that he'd abandoned his mother when she might very well harbor the same illness that had taken druid, he knows this is where he is supposed to be.

it was where he wanted to be.

my mother and i traveled, for a bit. searching for my brother and father. before ... he'd known nothing but stability of a rooted home. but maybe he'd always been cut out for the life of a traveling hunter; and maybe in another life he'd be a traveling priest carrying the word of Yahweh, striving for some sort of sainthood.

and you? ezra turns the proverbial tables on her, eager to not linger too long on his ( recent ) past.