open mouth, eyes that water, tongue that cannot speak. there's no need. undeniable. he feels it too. if your right arm was gone, the ripping would catch your notice. they both keel over as gods, mortals both rush to their aid. he can say nothing but a name: raphael. fuck. no. why. and in his twin's eyes there is nothing. only loss. pain. the presence has been disrupted, and brave and blonde the young doe tries to console hers, wings writhing as she speaks. her words fall on deaf ears. the crimson shadow, she stops her, early tears falling for tasks undone. "he was their brother." all explained, really. a god nods, and looks away. thinking of one who now shudders even in summer. his hawk, why won't he now fly away?  fevered sobs, two fraternal hands clutched like a rosary or hand grenade as a child's favorite nightmare puts head and horns in hollow hands limbs pulsing with the ancient drums of war. meanwhile, the sun sets. lucifer, who should be unaware, but it seems now an impossible task. even were inaction warranted, he is the fallen, not a deaf man. no one is blind now to the heavens lit with electric mourning.

In the beginning,

No angel cried.

Rather, they screamed.

In Pride; Hope