[ Alina's knuckles are practically white around the spray of flowers clutched in her hand. She had walked half the distance to the market and back again twice over before she managed to pull together the courage to make it the rest of the way. She had (not-so) subtly probed Sam when he had mentioned seeing Ciri at the market at about the same times each week. And so here she is with a small bouquet of wildflowers. ]
Ciri! [ Oh no. Too eager? ] Ciri. I, uhm, I...
[ Alina's steps falter, stumbling forward as pain strikes her temple like lightening, her grip loosens on the flowers and they fall to the ground.
Alina shouts, hoarse nonsense, her palm burning as she attempts again to wrench back the rifle's jammed bolt action. The gun punches into her shoulder when she squeezes the trigger, watching Mal land with a thud, lifeless on the deck of the skiff.
A piece of smoldering wood, broken off from the skiff that's in flames around them burns her palm as she scrambles over, but she doesn't notice. It is only Mal, unmoving and unbreathing Mal that occupies her mind. It's like her skin has gone numb and her ears deaf, the screech of monsters and screams of soldiers alike lost to her.
And then Mal takes a shuddering breath, and he has the audacity to try and smile at her, clutching his hand to her chest because at least they found their way back to each other one last time. She holds this moment until she feels claws pierce her back. It's so sharp and painful that she can't even scream. Terror, as deep as unending as the darkness that surrounds them seeps into every inch of her. She cannot run. Trapped, she can only fight exploding into something painfully bright and brutal, singing the darkness that has the misfortune of being in her path. ]
for ciri 🦌
Ciri! [ Oh no. Too eager? ] Ciri. I, uhm, I...
[ Alina's steps falter, stumbling forward as pain strikes her temple like lightening, her grip loosens on the flowers and they fall to the ground.
Alina shouts, hoarse nonsense, her palm burning as she attempts again to wrench back the rifle's jammed bolt action. The gun punches into her shoulder when she squeezes the trigger, watching Mal land with a thud, lifeless on the deck of the skiff.
A piece of smoldering wood, broken off from the skiff that's in flames around them burns her palm as she scrambles over, but she doesn't notice. It is only Mal, unmoving and unbreathing Mal that occupies her mind. It's like her skin has gone numb and her ears deaf, the screech of monsters and screams of soldiers alike lost to her.
And then Mal takes a shuddering breath, and he has the audacity to try and smile at her, clutching his hand to her chest because at least they found their way back to each other one last time. She holds this moment until she feels claws pierce her back. It's so sharp and painful that she can't even scream. Terror, as deep as unending as the darkness that surrounds them seeps into every inch of her. She cannot run. Trapped, she can only fight exploding into something painfully bright and brutal, singing the darkness that has the misfortune of being in her path. ]