Return

The stitched, healing wounds on her neck are itchy and it drives Haydée from her den, in the hope of walking out of a strong, insatiable itch. Dorian has provided a salve to try and help quell the desire to stretch the wounds until they are bloody but, since it is an inevitable process of healing, the mixture of herbs and honey only seem to help for so long. So, the young woman walks, tracing familiar pathways underneath the canopy of trees when a form catches her attention.

Pulling to a stop, Hay watches the frail ghost of the once strong, Fenix, slowly shorting through a pile of leaves. Emerald eyes watch him, sympathy and sorrow swelling in her chest as she remembers his self-imposed task of tending his family graves and how long he has been gone. It had taken Fenix some much time that her mother had actually gone to fetch him because she was worried for him. Gaze traces the ribs and hip bones that jut out on his lackluster coat and she spots the matts that litter his hide.

With a small, sad sigh, Haydée once again moving as slowly approaches Fenix with a warm smile on her lips. Without seeking his permission, she walks up beside him and plops herself down next to him, being careful not to disturb his careful sorting. Looking between the piles, she gently asks, “How are you doing Fenix? I have been worried about you.” While her attention has been divided between several different things, the young woman has often wondered where he was and how he has been doing.

Mentally kicking herself for not checking in on him sooner, she now offers him the only thing she has to give; her friendship.


"Haydée Kedieo"