Seaside Moors Longs for sun and lays in the dark

Rosalyn came closer, and that single physical gesture was enough to diminish the mental distance too. Raleska's eyes were ringed with tiredness as she listened. It all made sense -- Rosalyn had always made sense -- but Raleska was young and headstrong, and at times, stupid too.

She realized there was very little she had lived through that Rosalyn hadn't. That put enough perspective in the situation that Raleska, for a brief moment, felt her feet were firmly planted, as Rosalyn had said seconds before.

She worried her lip, frowning. "It all bothers me." Raleska confessed, knowing she very clearly remembered the faces that had ripped Eurycrates to pieces. She still remembered the sunlight as it slanted and arced through the spray of blood in the air.

She still remembered being dragged. At times, she woke up feeling as if those fangs were buried deep in her scruff again. "I'll never forget." Raleska swore, though maybe time would soften the edges of her memory as it had done to Rosalyn. Raleska was briefly startled that Rosalyn did not remember -- how could you forget the faces of your enemy?

Then, Dacio came to her mind. An unbidden entry to her heart, but he had been there all the same. He was gone now, and time moved on -- would she forget his face in time too?

For once, Raleska hoped so. She hoped to be as mindless and feeble as her kids, who forgot about her in less than a week.

Raleska tipped back her head, her slim throat visible as she croaked in a half-controlled cry: "I am tired of running."