the otherside

They came: most of them, anyway. One after the other, appearing from the glowing dark of this heinously strange woodland, until we stood together; not traditionally the sort for sentiment, but feeling the oppressive fear that nothing remained slip away with each familiar face, some semblance of hope forged itself among the shadow that otherwise gnawed and consumed everything within me it could find. It allowed me to lift my head, to pretend like I knew what I was doing, though, inside, I felt like the little boy whose mother had left him alone in a storm, too self centered to have noticed I was ever there at all. The rain here is even cold like that rain was. "Weaver, Nox," I return, more quietly, when the painted mare and her Raven arrive, the former Time Mender hauntingly accompanying her. Gwyn’s arrival, however, completely envelopes my focus, so much so that when Oizys appears, cussing me for saving her life and not calling her by name, I look up from nuzzling my daughter’s soft forelock to look at her with an expression that likely reads, “and?” "I’m supposed to list all thirty of you guys?" I ask, one brow raised, "I can, if you really need me to. You’ll even get to yell at me for doing that wrong, too, because you’re still alive." I probably can’t actually name all thirty of them, but a man can boast things to look like he knows what the fuck he’s talking about. Looking at Nox with a dark expression - well it seems everyone still has their attitudes - I feel like telling him to shove it with far more words, but bite my tongue, deciding it only gives more validity to his statement in the end. Instead, I shake my head, suggesting without words that I’m fine. He should tend to others. The call of Orsino draws my eyes as Wessex and Glacia both arrive, the snow flecked mare I’ve grown fonder of with each passing day quietly arriving alongside Gwyn. Distracted by the sight of my rather distraught blade brother, however, the glance I spare to the ice eyed woman who gifted me the most beautiful treasure in all the world is fleeting, accompanied with a brief, glad smile to have found her. It is replaced, quickly, with a worried frown. Even Wessex’s cussing for Tiamat is only caught in passing, an ear twitching over, my mind reaching towards Duir’s tentatively. Hey, I ask, like a mental nudge of the elbow. When my deer doesn’t respond, I look over at him, and more forcefully shove with my mind: Hey! Starting, he looks over at me, eyes wide, as if I’d frightened him. What I do? he inquires, clearly having not heard me the first time. Feeling coldness spread rapidly through my chest at what that means, I swallow it down, trying to not let my sensitive bonded catch on to the fact I’ve just noticed that our soul bond is acting strangely. Nothing, I reply, looking towards Tiamat’s arrival as I continue, go check on Erebos. With a bob of his black nose, he’s off to do so, gently nudging the roan’s shoulder once he gets there, to try and usher him towards the group, while bleating a question towards Orsino: where is Enyo? the bond between us queries, and I feel my already chilly heart plummet to the floor. Fuck, is all I can think to myself, because Wessex is suddenly screaming, her head morphing and changing shape, and Tiamat is blabbering excitedly, saying hello to everyone, and Lena… The impulse to run off into the wilderness screaming escalates by about one hundred percent; I close my eyes. I listen to the sound of all the madness, gently lured out by Tiamat’s loving touch to my neck, which draws my gaze; looking at her, momentarily still me, my eyes are wide, and hopeless, fleetingly that of a small child who does not know what to do, before I guard it away behind golden bars. Looking over at the calming Mutant to get a good look at what the screaming was about, that nonchalance wavers; mostly because she looks ridiculous. Suddenly laughing (it’s not appropriate, but I’m having a hard time here), I stifle it to add: "Nice hat."

Art by Esa82@DA
@Oizys @Erebos @Wessex