❝ it must be an awful burden to bear such gifts. ❞ @dreadbornesaint
The fire had finally calmed. Amidst rubble and ash, a scorched earth tries to breathe once more. As does she.
The next several moments are dedicated to recovery. She was still out of breath, the afterthought of battle just as taxing as the fight itself. It had taken so much of her; so much, and more still, to quell the flame that remained.
She looks behind her when her companion speaks.
" ... I'm used to it, " she lies. Adapted to it, yes, but it was no less distressing; the weight no less horrifying.
Every time she gazed at smoldering rubble, she could only think of how many ways it could've gone wrong. One misstep, that's all it would take. One mistake and she'd break something to couldn’t put back together.
" We, uh ... we should move on. "
