warmare: (進み出る)
Hayame ([personal profile] warmare) wrote in [personal profile] sterngaze 2022-11-23 04:38 pm (UTC)

[He barely smells like blood anymore. All that fills her senses is rich earth and growth... as ironic and twisted as that somehow felt. Since their encounter, she's been obliged to change her own clothing, the torn and blood-soaked sleeveless robe replaced by a secondhand, slightly patched blouse that doesn't seem to fit very well. But fit had been the least of her concerns below modesty, and without a stipend from either sect and only what coin she'd had leftover from the few times she'd disgraced herself to serve as a packmule for hire... She'd spent most of her money on other things.

Like the canteen and cloth bag she achingly moves to grab from the other side of her heavy body, placing it wordlessly beside him. Inside the bag, a few basics- a loaf of bread, a hunk of cheese, strips of dried meat, and a salt-preserved fish. No words accompany it, just... an offering. She uses her few words for more important things.]


We did.

[At that cost, but... They had. And still, days later... her now empty hand moves to the sash about her "waist", hovering subconsciously over one side of it as she nods, her expression dead serious.]

... and I do.

[She had found it near to his, in the bloody, rot-covered grass. Found it, and thought he was dead, only to feel relief too soon when it hadn't... felt like him. But since then... She has it, still.

It is not hers alone to decide what to do with.]

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