Bittersweet

A frustrated snarl fell from Thalia's lips as she pulled back from one of the smallest of the runestones. She wasn't quite sure what she was doing but there was one thing she was absolutely certain of - she needed change, and she needed it now. It was becoming increasingly obvious to her that the Abraxas - at least the most recent generation, since she couldn't speak for those generations above her - hadn't left a permanent, lasting mark on the world. Not that she'd seen, at least, and that knowledge was making it feel imperative that she do something about it.

But what? She was young, untrained, and despite her unwavering convictions she knew she wasn't the strongest nor the most capable Abraxas. When Pyrrhic had asked if anyone had wanted to rule Risen, she'd said nothing, done nothing. She wasn't meant to be the one to rule their family nor lead them to greatness, but sitting idly by wasn't a very good option either. Something needed to be done, anything at all, and her sudden nagging urge to leave a mark was what led her here, trying to engrave a simple shape of her choosing into the stones. Long ago someone had clearly been able to do just that, and for some foolish reason she'd assumed she might be able to do the same, with time and patience. Quickly she found out that no amount of digging at the hard objects would leave more than the faintest mark, regardless of her force or the repetition of her claws; and after a laborious task she pulled away and stare at the result of her fruitless efforts.

One of the stones was now heavily scratched, though the residue was likely from her claws rather than any real damage done to the stone. Wrinkling her nose and trying to calm her slightly labored breathing, she pulled herself away from her pointless task and started moving. It was hard to focus on much in particular these days, and she found when she did zero in on something her thoughts regarding that thing were anxious and almost compulsive, and she knew she needed to pull herself away before she continued.

She saw Pyrrhic out of the corner of her eye as she wandered, so deep in her thoughts that she'd nearly missed him. Her agitated demeanor quickly fell away - or was concealed, rather - in favor of a much more pleasant expression, offering him the faintest of smiles. He seemed to be doing something as well, though even from a distance she could tell it was significantly more pointless than her own prior task. "Pyrrhic," she greeted him quietly, taking a few long strides toward him. Did he want company? She did, even if she wasn't always good at showing it, and he hoped he felt the same.