Around and Around
12-07-2016, 11:39 AM
Tornach's stomach churned as he raced along the wetlands. He'd planned to go to Vericona Plains, but had veered off at the last minute. He wasn't ready yet to face the reality.
His mother was dead.
He'd learned of her death in such an awful manner, hadn't even been told but instead overheard the words being hurtled by Regulus in anger toward the man who was challenging him for Celestial.
He hadn't known.
Aiden kept her distance far above him in the sky, keeping watch over him but letting him have his space. Fresh, half-angry tears blurred his eyes. Angry at Regulus for letting him find out that way. Angry at his mother for dying. Angry at himself for not having made more of an effort to seek her out when she hadn't answered his call. Angry at the nomads for not saving her.
Angry that he didn't even have the heart to go visit her grave.
The young healer finally slowed, slogging through the cold marsh-water to the little island, and threw himself panting onto the dusting of snow beneath the willow tree there. Aiden spiraled down to roost there watchfully. Tornach wondered distantly where the rest of his family had gotten to, whether someone was there to comfort them. Faite, Zuriel, his little siblings. Was anyone taking care of his father now that Surreal was... gone? Zuriel had always seemed to be there to help him, but it wasn't fair to her that anyone would expect her to be the only one to do so. He could imagine it was difficult to cultivate a romance with anyone when you were always with your family, taking care of them, and he thought vaguely that it might be nice for her to have that option. Maybe he would offer his own home to Falk - a place far from anywhere haunted by memories of Surreal, a place where he could feel, and be, useful, and where he'd have Tor there to help him if he needed help. And Zuriel would be free to start her own family, if she wanted.
Sighing, Tor let his head drop to his forepaws.
Later. He'd do it later.
His mother was dead.
He'd learned of her death in such an awful manner, hadn't even been told but instead overheard the words being hurtled by Regulus in anger toward the man who was challenging him for Celestial.
He hadn't known.
Aiden kept her distance far above him in the sky, keeping watch over him but letting him have his space. Fresh, half-angry tears blurred his eyes. Angry at Regulus for letting him find out that way. Angry at his mother for dying. Angry at himself for not having made more of an effort to seek her out when she hadn't answered his call. Angry at the nomads for not saving her.
Angry that he didn't even have the heart to go visit her grave.
The young healer finally slowed, slogging through the cold marsh-water to the little island, and threw himself panting onto the dusting of snow beneath the willow tree there. Aiden spiraled down to roost there watchfully. Tornach wondered distantly where the rest of his family had gotten to, whether someone was there to comfort them. Faite, Zuriel, his little siblings. Was anyone taking care of his father now that Surreal was... gone? Zuriel had always seemed to be there to help him, but it wasn't fair to her that anyone would expect her to be the only one to do so. He could imagine it was difficult to cultivate a romance with anyone when you were always with your family, taking care of them, and he thought vaguely that it might be nice for her to have that option. Maybe he would offer his own home to Falk - a place far from anywhere haunted by memories of Surreal, a place where he could feel, and be, useful, and where he'd have Tor there to help him if he needed help. And Zuriel would be free to start her own family, if she wanted.
Sighing, Tor let his head drop to his forepaws.
Later. He'd do it later.
This character is equally proficient in both English and Irish Gaelic