A Light to Guide You [SWP]

WAKER

You're not having a good day. It's just that simple—ever since the siren bit you in the lake, you've felt angry, restless and bitter, frustrated in a way the little ball of hope can't fix. It's taken the edge off of your mood, but it still simmers in your gut, a slow-boiling hell-brew you're somewhat familiar with. You've always been a good kid, but being a good kid wasn't mutually exclusive with being capable of anger and hurtful words.

All the happenings are pushing you closer and closer to that point. You offer the only kind of help you can to the Metus, and it spits on it. It laughs at your question, responds with a snide remark—an echo of its previous ones—and you feel like yelling something profane and storming off. Like, fuck you, I tried.

Your ears flatten against your neck and you draw a deep breath.

You're not here to fight, and if the mouse is anything to judge by, he'll make quick work of you. So you inhale, exhale, tell yourself that this isn't about you, but about the Rift, a task bigger than your bruised feelings, like a war without a clear enemy.

Then, the Metus snatches up a piece of hope—whose, you don't quite catch, because it splits like soft butter in the hand of the predator—and shoves it into his weird, razor-toothed jaw. Stunned, you watch the proceedings. What the hell? He starts glowing, and lumbers back into his den. You're left staring after him, then you stare at your equine companions, and they're all looking equally shocked and mystified.

"You're welcome?" you say, half-loud, after the retreating, glowing hunter, figuring someone ought to acknowledge his thanks.

"Shall we return to the Matron?" You flick an ear and turn your head, seeing Night Sky by your side again. Dragon Man has already begun to go back, and you're suddenly terrified of being left behind, in this place where you can't tell north from south and the fog is swirling and the distance is howling—

"Yes," you simply say, perhaps a bit too fast, and with a glance to make sure that Otem is coming, too—and that the Metus isn't charging out of its cave at you all—you trot after Dragon Man.