#thread.emre

With a gruff expression and eyes filled with glee at the possibility of further discovering the island - as if he hadn't already covered a lot of land in general - Adarsh pushed one of the makeshift bows into Emre's hands. "Know how to use this, Akbar?" he asked, adding a few arrows to the mix. "No guns allowed on this trip, too loud." Too loud and too easy to spot, he figured Emre was aware of the man who got killed on one of Adarsh's expeditions into the dangerous areas of the islands. Since then he'd vowed not to take guns into the place.

He gnashed his teeth and his gruff expression turned into a grin. "If you do have a weapon, I'd like you to drop it right here, you can pick it up when we get back, but know I picked you because you don't seem trigger happy." He studied the other. "You have sharp eyes, you're going to need them out there." He threw a backpack over his shoulders and tied the holder with arrows to his hip. "Last chance to turn back."

Walid wasn’t happy with their mom gone. Even if they hadn’t had her around for a long while, it was simply odd. There had been a real chance of them finally getting to create some closure, to have her in their life for just a little while after they’d disappeared so many decades before. For a moment, they almost felt like a kid again. 

But then it was time to say goodbye. A goodbye they’d never had before, and one that should’ve been incredibly hard if not for how objective and truthful their mom was. ‘We’ll see each other again, beta,’ she’d said before he went through to the teleporter and returned without her there. 

Afterwards, Walid had thrown himself into work and been even less available than ever before. If there were specific requests, he let his troops deal with it. If it was tasks outside of the tower, he sent someone else. He only left the tower for food and perhaps to sleep - though the little bedroll in his office worked just as well.

The island might keep him young, but it certainly didn’t erase the bags under his eyes and the way his fingers were calloused and dry. He sat down with his breakfast in the main dining area, legs pulled up, hugging his knees to his chest as he poked the egg, watching with narrowed eyes as the egg yolk flowed down over his piece of toast. 

They felt like they were alone again.