and there are things she wants to believe ; that the fire is not a for her , that cruelty has loose hands tonight , here in the valley of a new home. wouldn’t that be such kindness.
but smoke has taken the night and the girl has no will to shake free the deja vu it feeds. remember a city full of thunder ? tonight there is no blaster fire , searing chemicals in the belly of a monster turned by profit , but the stench is all the same. in the dark a blade sings out violence and raynne finds herself running barefoot from her bed , quiet ghost caught beneath starlight. at first wide eyes scan for someone , anyone , a real thing to grab in what can only be waking illusion. but escape drags a leash and all at once the child falters , clips knees on the moss below at what greets her.
jedi killer ! faceless in the dim, wreathed in hate , but how she would know him in death. it flares some ancient thing in her gut , this tableau , sour spur of a hate she cannot yet name ; betrayal , and more. fear , then the rest. but chaos bears no fruit to the idle and in the scattered heartbeat raynne chokes in what drive still rattles the slim cut of her. hands claw to motion , pulling her near - silent to bare feet once again. then it’s the work of mindless habit that traces her body through the night , stumbling uneven over the cold ground , barley breathing.
another stagger , crashing to the dirt with a raw inhale , palms scrapped flat against the roots. the girl hasn’t time to think farther , grasping as spectres in the dark as she crawls a spare few feet to the base of this nearby tree. enough, enough. couched shoulders fit to the hollow here , safe only in passing as shallow lungs betraying the peace she has grasped in the small moment. how long until another figure , familiar face in the half - light.
‘ poe. ’ oh , but such softness. how it comes alight in this moment that only now has the girl called his name ; laced together fear enough to find her voice and speak it , bridging familiarity in the breadth of a syllable. fitting, perhaps. before she never possessed the urgency. but it exists so briefly , that word, a whisper of nothing that holds what she cannot gather into existence. she knows what they all feel ; a shared burden in the wash of loss around them , both gripped by how the force ebbs unkind around bodies not yet cool. death like dry iron under her tongue ━━ a memory already too worn. i have seen this emptiness before.
but language has ever been a cruel companion. it shies from her now , in such need , leaving mouth cotton and bare of pleas. he is going to kill me. even at such distance the young creature can feel their fellow padawan , their friend , a rock cast to this clear pool , bleeding ink. greater still the instinct bedded deep in her chest, frantic edge of fear that begs she run farther , escape . but he is standing there , between her and the night , and she cannot draw words enough to free herself. only something quiet , silvered fear that creeps unbidden once more. ‘ poe ━━ please. ’ » @riskappetite.
