DIRT

“Of course I do,” Ikarun replied, still quiet, still civil, despite Eran’s sharpness. One of his hands rose to touch the blindfold fixed against his eyes. “My eyes aren’t my arm, but I relied on them, just as you relied on your limb. I was angry when I lost them. Angry at my adversary for taking them from me. Angry at others for still having the ability to see. Angry at myself for my weakness... all things I know you yourself are feeling now. But it won’t do you any good to act hopeless.” “So you have me all figured out, yeah?” Eran snapped, half turning away from Ikarun, bristling. “Let me deal with it the way I choose to, Ikarun. What do you care so much about how I feel-” “You are my brother,” Ikarun interrupted Eran, an exasperated sigh punctuating his sentence. “You are family. You will always be family, and I will always care, despite whatever anger you feel. Toward the world- toward me. I miss my dear brother Eran, and the sound of a smile in his voice, and the warmth of his happiness among his clanmates. So please..” he reached out, finding Eran’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “Let yourself heal. And come back.”