( @somniaeus )
death felt... present. compressed, focused, so vividly in the moment she felt unsteady. for the first time in uncountable eons, she felt all of her conscious self at once, in the same place, in the same thought and the same body. it was... disorientating. slightly overwhelming, if she was willing to admit it (she was). she was so used to being a single facet on a vast kaleidoscope of inputs, each one there for the dying and the dead, that having all her attention in one confined form felt almost suffocating. she needed to breathe, to decompress, to get used to being all of herself again, trapped in this strange place where she did not feel the song of those who needed her constantly.
and so that is how death of the endless found herself in the great library nestled in the forest, her booted feet stepping carefully along the golden lines until the doors opened to permit her entrance. how she found herself wandering its stream-filled halls and towering bookshelves, light touches feathered along the many book spines. and that is how her mind was quiet enough to sense the approach of a familiar presence, its cool shadow a balm even more effective than the peaceful scene around her. with a smile curving her lips, death turned slightly to rest her eyes on the black-clad figure behind her, eyes warm and joyful.
❝ hello, little brother. ❞
