#mamaterasu

        There is relief, there is joy, but there is also a lingering sadness. Despite everything, despite this— war, being won, so much had been torn down and so many had been lost in the process. But perhaps now... now they can usher in a new age of peace and tranquility and rebuild what was lost. The Celestial Plain is not far, and he knows that it will be far different than it used to be. And he knows setting foot there will bring a rush of memories, both good and bad.

        But mostly he hopes that once he’s there, he can rest. When was the last time he offered himself that luxury? Always busy, always searching, always waiting. Now, with evil defeated and home on the horizon and her at his side once more, he can rest. The exhaustion is bone-deep, hundreds of years in the making. The bruises blooming across his ribs, his arms, his legs, his cheek— they all ache, a reminder of what’s happened, and he will have new scars hidden beneath his clothes, he knows.

        When they arrive, it would be nice to curl up together in the warmth and sleep like they always used to.

        A hand settles on Amaterasu’s head, pushing through her soft fur and stroking over her ears. The other hand remains on the controls. Centuries later and he still remembers how to pilot this old thing. The vast expanse of sky spreads out around them, the sun shines, and ahead he can see the place he’s longed to return to, but not until she had returned to him.

        The Ark touches down in a widespread field. Even from here he can see the difference. Patches of grass grow, but there is still evidence of when fire blazed and demons ravaged the area. It will take a lot of regrowing, but— they can do it, and the other gods, maybe...

        Waka breathes in, sweeps hair out of his face, and allows himself a smile.

❛     i    ain’t     a fan of big dogs,   y`know.     they always fuckin`    BITE ME     . . .     ❜

She is light. She is sunlight, a sunbeam crafted from the hands and love of two. A being meant to aid in the rising of the sun, to heal the broken earth, right the wrongs of her human ancestors. Yet the wolf inside her whispers- (you have known you were capable this whole time.)

The country of her mother’s bloodline has been transformed into a cityscape, of cold towers and artificial lights. But Robin can find her way around, find where the sun had broken over the mountains, rays streaming out.

In following the rays... She finds the shrine, hidden away within the trees. Ruined and old, yet when she traces her hands along the weathered altar, her soul hums and throbs with joy. Her blues trace upwards, before turning. 

(Ah. There you are.)

The girl should not know her, but she does. The sun, the god her mother told stories of, taking the form of a wolf kissed by August skies and the kree-kree of cricket-song. A smile splits the young woman’s face. 

he’s not surprised upon seeing her  ,  rather greeting her with incline of his crown   &   the faint curling of his lip  .  A DIVINE BEING  ,  not unlike him  ,  though much older than he by what he can only assume as millennia  .  he extends a hand towards her in greeting  ,  knowing her despite her current form  ,  considering WHO HE IS HIMSELF  .         ❛ ‘        anyone else would have mistaken you for an ordinary wolf  ,  𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝙸 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴  .        ’ ❜

the affectionate gesture prompts a fit of giggles. “ ah, that tickles! ” august reaches out to gently scratch the wolf behind an ear. his laughter only intensifies when he sees his handiwork. his oversized hoodie bundled around his furry companion. (animals have a special place in his heart. they don’t judge you like people do.)

         ❛   your presence is a welcomed one  ,  mother wolf  .  i admit in all my meditations  ,   horvut  do  faal  krein          the lure of the sun           the memory of its  warmth  on my scales  ,  has nearly drawn me from my storm  &&  mountain before  .