#heartintact.

somewhere deep in the swamp, hidden where the land itself seemed to rebel against the outside world, the congregation gathered like moths to a single, blinding flame. but he was alone now, bar the other standing a few yards away. he spoke softly, the weight of his voice carried. "you feel it, don't you?" sol said, dark eyes burning in the low light. "that gnawing... that hunger that the world out there—" he gestured, vaguely, toward the unseen roads and cities beyond the trees. "—refuses to feed." he smiled then, slow and wolfish, the corner of his mouth crooking upward like he'd just shared some grand, private joke. "but i will." he took a step forward. "i will." his gaze locked on theirs. "you’re tired, aren't you?" sol asked, voice dropping to something almost tender. he extended a hand, palm up, inviting but not pleading. he never pleaded. "come closer. let me show you what it feels like to belong." the murmur of the swamp seemed to lean in closer, as if the land itself were listening, holding its breath. "and don’t be afraid." he murmured. "fear is just the world’s last weapon against you. it dies here... in my arms."