Witch's Marsh the cry of a loon

Trusting in the goodness of others was an easy thing for Ibis, and often led to people singling her out as being somewhat vapid, or at least too innocent and mindless, but she really did look on the brighter side of life. Lately it all felt different; but she was confident that things would settle and the world would right itself, she merely had to survive until it did. She wanted to trust that her brother was safe - and she wanted to trust this boy, charming and warm and compassionate Kukulkan, when he said he would stay. Maybe he wouldn't. He could've been lying for all Ibis could tell, but she trusted him as she trusted the kindness of Bhediya and the genuine, frank nature of Awol; she wanted to believe in the people around her so very, very badly.

So when Kukulkan softly confirmed that he would stay, that he promised, nothing more needed to be said at all. She listened to everything as he tried to allay her nerves and found comfort in the enigmatic manner of his speech, the dramatic motions of his body jostling beside her — felt her whole body flush with warmth when he surrounded her in that brief, poignant embrace. Oddly, her mind flit back to the memory of a silver-clad boy she had met once and the fluttering sensation that he'd made within her — and back again, to the unique depths of Kukulkan's somber promise.

Ibis didn't think anymore. It only made her feel worse when she did, and it wasn't fair to the kind boy she had met - it painted her in the wrong light, in this haze of greyed sorrow, and she didn't want that. She wanted to be bubbly and free again. To bask in his enthusiasm and be infected by it. The girl opened her mouth to say something more prompt but as she did, a yawn escaped her and she chirped softly in surprise at herself, ducking her nose with an embarrassed, glassy glint in her eyes.

oop -- gosh, it was so dark! And so warm here, nested beside him. She took a quick breath and forced the yawn away before another could arise, and tucked herself neatly against his burly shoulder. He was so much larger and darker than her, especially with only the moonlight glimmering off of him — and warm, which was a comfort.

mm... thank you, kukulkan. The girl -- no, the lady, murmurs sleepily beside him.