Tears & Rain

As the meeting officially came to close, Haydée waits around for anyone who might wish to pull her aside so that they can speak with her privately. Emerald eyes dart over to where Dorian waits, her brother’s worry practically radiating off his form as he waits to descend on her to begin treating the wounds on her neck. The herbs Lucy had provided to keep her awake and going are rapidly leaving her system and, with them, the last of her limited energy reserves. A headache has rooted itself behind her right eye, making the overcast day too bright and the fact that she hasn’t had a full sleep for close to forty-eight hours has it slowly creeps toward a migraine.

Truthfully, Hay wants nothing more than to retreat to her room, shut herself in, and sleep for a whole month. However, she knows that the throbbing, still sluggishly oozing wounds demand to be tended to. Dark granules of sand from the beach where the fight had taken place are still embedded in them and the dried blood crusts the fur around the open areas, plastering it into the open injuries as well. Idlily, she thinks of how painful it will be to have them cleaned. Once it is obvious that there is nothing left for her to do, the young woman finally looks to her brother, tense shoulders sinking down as the exhaustion she feels pulls at her.

With a small dip of her head, she climbs down to approach Dorian and softly says, “Let’s go to my den.” Haydée doesn’t wish for anyone to see her cry while her brother tends to the deep wounds so she slowly leads them down from the top of the falls. Thoughts jumble together as they walk, her tired brain continuously running over all that still needs to be done. The world fades away as she gets lost in her own mind and Hay barely registers the fact that they enter the cave system behind the curtain of water.

It is only when she is pushing aside the fur that covers the doorway to her space that she comes back to the present and she steps aside, holding aside the fur so that her brother can join her in the relative safety of her room. Lanterns are spaced around the room, illuminating the darkness but their guttering lights are now ringed in halos and Haydée winces as their low level of brightness still send shards of pain stabbing into her right eye. Sluggishly, she moves to where her bed is and settles herself on top of the furs.

There is so much she wants to tell to Dorian, so much she has to apologize for but all she can do is lay her head on her paws and allow him to tend her painful wounds. As Dorian approaches, her green gaze flicks to his injured cheek and shame once again fills her chest.

This is all her fault, after all.


"Haydée Kedieo"