❝ why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? ❞ ( from @blessifys / mipha, to link. )
heavy is the taste of metal upon the biting of his tongue. cursed by the goddess he must be, for his folly with the spoken word to be so immediate within the first sentence offered in their conversation. were he a few years younger, the displeasure would be harder to conceal; evident in scowling lips and a rotting attitude. instead, head bows in a poor attempt at an apology— he hadn't meant for his words to carry such a weight. he hadn't meant for this to be point of finality in their conversation.
but the goddess had bestowed upon him the gift of a sword and not much more, so his head bows deeper in penance. if it was mipha, maybe she would understand— but the memory of scornful stares keeps him in place. i'm sorry, it wasn't my intention is stuck in the muscles of his throat, uncomfortable even as they're swallowed back down. of course this wouldn't be their last meeting. but the responsibilities of an appointed knight come before the yearnings of a childish heart; and so he bows in apology for everything he couldn't say.
