08-21-2020, 06:15 PM
She had understood that it mattered to him by the fact he brought her Other up at all, but Nimeda had no answers to offer him -- or at least none that she had not already tried to impart. Their hearts beat the same, and if they did not share memory and thought, they did share flesh and soul and feeling. Nimeda had only ever peered at her Other’s sister through dreams in the Inbetween, and yet the love she bore for the woman was bone deep. If Thalia’s reaction had anything more than transience to it, she thought she would feel it, as Thalia must feel echoes of her time here. More than that, she simply did not know. He asked the wrong one of them.
Nim twisted on her rock to watch him walk away. When Noctua spoke of the illumination of dreams, she thought he probably meant grander things than the fragility of simple human emotion -- particularly those he appeared to consider himself exempt from. She suspected he no longer wished to talk of it, yet if he truly desired to flee the conversation, he only needed to wake himself from it. Water in all its forms might be lovely, but it was persistent also, and went where it willed whether it was invited or not.
A shift brought her alongside his ambling, and her arm slipped companionably through his. She did not think he enjoyed the affection of touch, which was why she usually refrained with him, but he did usually weather it at least. “When Jon first found her, she was afraid of him. He said she ran. I don’t think he ever found her again. But I have not seen him either, so I do not know.” She peered at his profile as they walked, but did not expect much in the way of reaction. Noctua peered beneath the lip of his shell, but she did not think he might be coaxed any further this night. If he was about to rouse himself to the waking world, though, she would rather they did not part with the weight of his melancholy.
“If all waters are my home, then you will know where to find me when you next visit the dream.”
A smile curled. For perhaps that was why when he had escaped his nightmare, he had jumped in the river.
Nim twisted on her rock to watch him walk away. When Noctua spoke of the illumination of dreams, she thought he probably meant grander things than the fragility of simple human emotion -- particularly those he appeared to consider himself exempt from. She suspected he no longer wished to talk of it, yet if he truly desired to flee the conversation, he only needed to wake himself from it. Water in all its forms might be lovely, but it was persistent also, and went where it willed whether it was invited or not.
A shift brought her alongside his ambling, and her arm slipped companionably through his. She did not think he enjoyed the affection of touch, which was why she usually refrained with him, but he did usually weather it at least. “When Jon first found her, she was afraid of him. He said she ran. I don’t think he ever found her again. But I have not seen him either, so I do not know.” She peered at his profile as they walked, but did not expect much in the way of reaction. Noctua peered beneath the lip of his shell, but she did not think he might be coaxed any further this night. If he was about to rouse himself to the waking world, though, she would rather they did not part with the weight of his melancholy.
“If all waters are my home, then you will know where to find me when you next visit the dream.”
A smile curled. For perhaps that was why when he had escaped his nightmare, he had jumped in the river.
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