Sea Lion Shores i.vi : who was broken by trained personnel

{dogs}{part one, episode six}

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This is a stupid idea, she kept telling herself. This is your dumbest idea yet. Yet instead of following the river back into the bleeding forest, she went west. Dumb, dumb idea.

She eyed the slumbering sea lions nearby, careful not to get too close. She was not in the mood for a tussle with one of them. (Was she ever really in the mood for that? Was anyone?) No, she kept her mind on the task ahead, no matter how insurmountable it seemed. She had cooked up an idea and would follow it through.

For a Melonii, you sure are stupid. Now she wasn't sure who was speaking within her head--herself or the daedra. Maybe both. She deserved every bit of it.

The wraith went westward.

gonna pretend she stayed a week at Undersea, so dated for tonight

he's careful, as he picks his way through the sands, not to disturb the sleeping sea lions. he enjoys the quiet, the illusion of solitude — not that he counts the sea lions as company. but the scents of his kin are heavy along the coast, and it would be foolish to assume he can truly be alone for long here. his point is proven hardly a beat after the thought crosses his mind, ears perking at the faint sound of footsteps through the sand. he turns toward the sound, gaze finding the pale figure almost immediately. he pauses where he is, chuffing softly in hopes of drawing the stranger's attention — but they seem determined to get wherever they're going, even hobbling as they are, so he's not too eager to interrupt. he decides simply to stay where he is and let the stranger choose to be distracted.

Gold and silver. Something felt off about the guy, or perhaps that was just her burgeoning sense of dread. Maegi followed the sound of his soft call, padding toward him with a glint in her eye. Perhaps he could help her. He didn't smell like them, though.

Do you know where the Redhawks live? the Melonii asked without preamble, coming to a stop just shy of where he stood. She searched for the answer in his face, all the while trying to piece together a map in her head. I'm visiting a friend there, but they gave me terrible directions. I'm completely lost.

Well, at least one of those things was true.

the pale wolf approaches him, and as she draws nearer he begins to note each glaring deformity marring her form. he's unperturbed by the twisted forelimb, the jagged parting of scarred flesh exposing her teeth on one side, though imagining the acquisition of such a wound raises the hair along his spine imperceptibly. he wonders who has tormented the girl so — but he'll never get to ask, will he?
he shakes his head slowly at her question, sympathy in his expression. the feeling of being lost is one he knows all too well — it haunts him even when he's certain he knows where he is and where he's going, even on the rare occasions he feels at peace with himself. though, he expects their root problems are rather dissimilar. argent eyes trace the scarring along the side of her mouth unabashedly, then flit back to the wolf's mismatched gaze, filled suddenly with a strange sense of kinship. reminded slightly of meeting zamael for the first time, he parts his jaws to allow her full view of his own mutilation, wondering if her reaction will be more tempered than the grey wolf's.

She frowned when he shook his head, looking away and cursing under her breath. Okay, now what? Keep going, obviously. But where? . . .Somewhere. Some direction. She'd keep asking. Maegi was about to turn and be on her way when the gilded man opened his mouth in a way that seemed unusual and inviting. She peered inside and. . .

Oh, she said softly, reminded of Relmyna. So that's why you don't speak. Maegi stared at him for a few moments in silence, eyes tracing the lines of his face. Those silver eyes. . . Such a perfect creature on the outside, but his inside had been marred, irreparably.

Peryite loves you, Maegi murmured, turning her damaged cheek toward him. Peryite loves us. Loves anyone who has seen pain, who has been disfigured. Pray to Peryite and Peryite will keep you safe. She licked her lips a little nervously, hoping that the sentiment will ease whatever pain he's feeling, right now.

he'd expected something different, certainly, but perhaps not quite this different. peryite loves you, she says, and he's struck by the sincerity of the statement more than anything else. he can't tear his gaze away from the exposed inside of her mouth, the rows of teeth glinting at him from a mess of scar tissue, feeling her words reverberate around him as she continues. he takes in a slow breath, moving closer to her with no small measure of hesitation. if he's allowed so close, he presses his nose gently into the pale girl's shoulder, lingering for a few beats. he does not know who peryite is, or how to pray — but he knows what is being offered here. acceptance, comfort — companionship, if only for the moment. it brings him a sense of peace he has only ever known through the drifting song he chases endlessly.

She wasn't watching his expression, focused as she was on her words, and when he came close, she flinched by instinct. God, he was gonna hurt her, they all hurt her. Maegi took a few stumbling steps back and stared at him, mismatched gaze filled with mistrust and fire.

Don't touch me, she said flatly, shaking her head. Don't. . .don't. It ruins everything, when others touch you. You can't let anyone in. But she had let plenty of people in. Maybe, though, that was the problem. Maybe that was why she couldn't escape the pain.

Peryite loves you, Maegi repeated, running her eyes over his tongueless mouth. Never forget it.

cortland rn

he takes a step back the moment the pale girl flinches, watching her retreat with ears flattened. at first her words make sense — but then, quickly, they don't. he takes another step back despite the distance already between them as she continues, confusion twisting his features. she must be mad, he thinks; hypocrisy no doubt, but that doesn't occur to him now. there is a part of him that pities the girl, a stronger part than is healthy, and that part begs him to linger further though he knows he cannot help her. so he does, though every shred of logic within him urges him not to fuck with crazy.

There it was again. That look. Pity, revulsion. Even a man scorned by the world was disgusted by her. Maegi stepped back further, any goodwill she had felt in the moment dissipating. She did not grasp that it was her words, not her appearance, that took him aback so. All she could see was that look. . .and instantly, her newfound trust was shattered.

Gotta go, the girl said, her teeth snapping on the consonants, her eyes full of cold hurt. She turned and trotted away, a wraith on the night wind.

She was happy that he did not have a tongue, for surely he would have given her words to match his look. It was better, in this moment, that he was hopelessly and utterly mute. And what an awful thing to be thankful for. . .