wroughtandtempered | SEASONS

Entry tags:

inbox,
seasons

SEASONS - IC INBOX

"...This is Eve. Leave a message if you want. Or just fucking text me, I get those fast."

[ nods, and comes over to the window to all buthalf flop herself out of it. this is... it feels a little like getting naked? but it's also something she wants him to have, if he needs it, so...

she throws her head back and wails.

there is a song to it—a cascade of raw minor notes—but it's about as subtle as a sledgehammer. it's obviously a distress call, meant to be sung as loud as possible: I'm here, I hurt, help me.

Eve trails off as she runs out of air, then hiccups as though to start again before clearing her throat ]

...Like that.

[Ah. He feels like even without her telling him, he might have been able to guess what that meant, roughly.

He sticks his head in the window, takes a deep breath, and lets out a wail echoing her own, much louder than his curse from before. I'm here, I hurt, help me. She is giving him this; he has the right to use it, and to be heard.

He ends up coughing for a few moments when his breath runs out.]

...Thank you.

[ she squeezes her eyes shut and hesitates only the barest amount before overlapping her voice with his— holding back enough he's unmistakably the main melody, but underscoring it with her own: I'm here/defiant/adversaries. not something she's felt in her heart to sing for herself lately, but—

she will absolutely sing it for Kantera, right now. she can't help directly, but she can absolutely call a warning to anyone who might want to take advantage of his pain. that's what pack is for.

as he finishes— as they both finish— she slides off the sill to sit heavily down on the floor inside, tail tucked. fuck, but her eyes sting. ]

...welcome.

Did it help?

Edited 2024-06-26 05:21 (UTC)

-Yes, it did. I think I needed that.

[His throat is raw, but he feels better in some inexplicable way. Like he'd yelled out all his hurt feelings until they didn't hurt as much.

He sits next to her and gently bumps her shoulder with his.]

[ she counterleans a little. ...hums, quietly thoughtful, then says: ]

Use your diaphragm more next time, you don't want to strain your throat to get loud.

[ in other news: it's starting to smell like baked goods and jasmine tea. ]