[Hayame had left Springstar for Alenroux as soon as she could.
It wasn't like there was anything tying her to that city. Even the stable that had been her residence (not her home) had been destroyed by the Blight roots, and they had not returned back in time far enough to "save" it. At least she has purpose amongst their military. At least she has respect amongst their soldiers, even if she felt she had little from the actual shard-bearers she was supposed to consider her allies in their desperate, pathetic scrabbles at saving their worlds.
But she does not feel worthy of that respect now, in the wake of yet another humiliating loss. How it burns in her craw, how it rots in her hearts, to lose not once, but twice- ? She had known others would be too weak, and yet still she had not killed enough to compensate for their failures. She is not blameless in their defeat, and she turns her hatred on herself just as well as others. So let her be alone. Her heat is coming soon, whether she likes it or not (and she never did). She will ride it out in solitude amongst the forests of Alenroux, she will sate her anger on the mindless beasts that yet terrorize the night, and she-
Will follow the sounds of impotent rage to a field and a god covered in dirt.
Hayame does not bother to try and hail him. Not at first. He is engaged in a battle with a shade that she cannot see, not here in the world away from Communion, where their hearts betray them to the eyes of others. But as Set rages and screams at the invisible figure... she remembers a shape, a face, a presence that had made the hairs of her dun coat stand on end. She cannot be certain, because who knew how many enemies someone like him might have... but the flowers look the same. There is a moment when she is tempted to let spite rule her, to turn away from him in this pathetic display and let him yell at someone else, but-
When he finally notices that she is there, when he does turn his rage on her...]
I thought the only thing that could turn you away from me was mine own word.
[It is her turn to be the one who sounds calm. And when she steps forward towards him and into the field now teeming with life... she crushes a blood red flower beneath her hoof.]
ALENROUX
It wasn't like there was anything tying her to that city. Even the stable that had been her residence (not her home) had been destroyed by the Blight roots, and they had not returned back in time far enough to "save" it. At least she has purpose amongst their military. At least she has respect amongst their soldiers, even if she felt she had little from the actual shard-bearers she was supposed to consider her allies in their desperate, pathetic scrabbles at saving their worlds.
But she does not feel worthy of that respect now, in the wake of yet another humiliating loss. How it burns in her craw, how it rots in her hearts, to lose not once, but twice- ? She had known others would be too weak, and yet still she had not killed enough to compensate for their failures. She is not blameless in their defeat, and she turns her hatred on herself just as well as others. So let her be alone. Her heat is coming soon, whether she likes it or not (and she never did). She will ride it out in solitude amongst the forests of Alenroux, she will sate her anger on the mindless beasts that yet terrorize the night, and she-
Will follow the sounds of impotent rage to a field and a god covered in dirt.
Hayame does not bother to try and hail him. Not at first. He is engaged in a battle with a shade that she cannot see, not here in the world away from Communion, where their hearts betray them to the eyes of others. But as Set rages and screams at the invisible figure... she remembers a shape, a face, a presence that had made the hairs of her dun coat stand on end. She cannot be certain, because who knew how many enemies someone like him might have... but the flowers look the same. There is a moment when she is tempted to let spite rule her, to turn away from him in this pathetic display and let him yell at someone else, but-
When he finally notices that she is there, when he does turn his rage on her...]
I thought the only thing that could turn you away from me was mine own word.
[It is her turn to be the one who sounds calm. And when she steps forward towards him and into the field now teeming with life... she crushes a blood red flower beneath her hoof.]
Do you tire of our friendship already, Set?