such expensive mistakes

The rain sings. It sings notes of black all along Seiji’s body, cold and slick. He is no stranger to the cold press of its little hands, but his ears tilt back in mild distaste, all the same. Rain likes to put its fingers into them and - disconcerting. He walks in silence under its touch, his head bowed, his body a long, slim shadow cutting through the downpour. He is here, at last: Halyven. Halyven. Despite what Kiada told him, he finds it a silent place, filled with only the drumming of water, the quick flow of coalescing drops. Maybe she lied. Maybe something has befallen her companions. Maybe they go elsewhere when the weather turns. Seiji doesn’t mind the rain, really. He isn’t yet too cold. It reminds him a little of home, even if the temperature and the smell are wrong. It reminds him of standing on the beach, wind slicking around the narrow edges of him, or of peering over the edge of the garden, leaves dripping over his back, and every green thing whispering in soft delight. His eyelids grow heavy as he moves; he wants to stop and think about it more. He wants to daydream that he’s back home, to probe tendrils of thought into the memory and check it for errors. But he fears remembering too often damages the image, too. He fears the garden in his mind differs already from the one on the island. Instead, he must remain here. Halyven, he thinks again. His mouth forms around the the shape of the word, the shape the word would take if he could breathe it out. He wonders if he’ll recognize his own voice, when he finds it. And with the thought, a needle of fear slides into his heart. Seiji hesitates, his dark eyes turning. He heard something. He gazes past pale walls slick with rain, and they remind him of the forgotten bones of some great god. They remind him a little of a place he’s visited before, though no birds gather here. No feathers whispering in the sky or hiding in crevices from the rain. He is surprised to find how much his misses them: the flocks, their singing souls, the brush of their little lives against his own. He doesn’t know what he heard, but he feels cold, now. Shaking his head, water dripping from the sharp tips of his ears, askew, he clings to the walls, searching for an overhang. Always, the small sensation of trespassing, as if the dead linger here. As if this place remembers…. Something. Something grandiose and past. He’s thinking on it as he walks, looking for shelter. He’s thinking on it and not so much on what lies directly in his path until he turns a corner and someone is there. Until he turns a corner and Kiada is there - he knows her - and his eyes dart to the tip of her horn as his body flows instinctively sideways to avoid it, as his hooves skid to a halt over the rain-slicked stone. He stares. She did say she was going to Halyven, didn’t she? His ears twitch, up briefly before they go back again, and Seiji shakes his head to rid them of the sensation of rain inside. He’d already halfway supposed she was lying, or mistaken, or something. But here she is, alone except for Khairi - surprised he remembers both names. Feeling a little embarrassed, Seiji nods at her again. Then casts a glance around, as if to say, Where are you headed? She looks about as drenched as he.

img by Tildae @ flickr


ooc // He didn't want to follow her here immediately but I did want to post here xD So I'm calling this a bit after they first met. I hope that's okay!