Walk | Talk | Think
It was funny sometimes how the state of the afterlife changed so seamlessly from one style of territory to another. One second Tahlia could be standing upon the edge of the river that had been the Rio Grande and suddenly she was tossed back to the forest of the Range, pulled from the Firefly Lake all the way to the Fjord. The changes never seemed permanent, and no matter where she found herself she somehow always managed to make her way back to Bane, in which ever form of their world he happened to reside in at that time. It all happened so quickly, and so often, that she had stopped paying it any mind when the world around her suddenly took her to another familiar piece of her life.
And these woods were very familiar too. Being her last place of residency when she lived, it held both a special place in her heart, but also carried with it her burden of guilt. This was where she had abandoned her children. This was where she had wasted away while her newborn son cried out for her attention and care. This was where she had forsaken her life as a mother and gave it up, as if it meant nothing. Not often did she wander this way - the dark thoughts were typically more than she could bear - but when she did it was always with a purpose.
Whatever purpose had brought her here today eluded her. Tahlia wandered among the thick trunks of tall pine trees, grateful at least that she tread nowhere near the dens beside the fjord or the tree that grew atop the peak overlooking the valley. She was well away from all of it, distanced from those last locations that she had traversed before death, and as she walked she thought she caught scents left over from that time. Overlaying the natural smells of the forest, she caught her son's scent, recognizing it instantly. But it did not smell of the forest, or the pines. In fact, it smelled very different than it ought have for a memory, altered by time...
Ears perked atop her head, the hunter spirit leaped forward and ran in pursuit of the scent, trailing her son's path that marched directly toward the river without wavering to either side. She slowed before she reached him, recalling her visit with Anais and how her daughter had been able to visit her in a dream. Smiling, assuming this would be much the same, Tahlia exited the treeline and spoke his name fondly to get his attention. "Jakart." Only, as she drew near, she noticed the scars, the wounds, the overall state of disarray that her grey-colored son was in. Immediately the smile fell away, fear seeding itself icily within her chest as she stopped a distance and stared at him with fresh worry that made her eyes at once fill with tears. "Oh, Jakart." Was he...could he possibly be dead?
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