06-24-2024, 08:49 PM
(i can’’t be saved) reaching for the life I threw away
watching as it circles in the drain
Lucia listened. Her pink eyes flinted from Monty’s face to her paws to the icicles dangling off the evergreen trees. Her husband was never very good at withholding the truth from her. Even at times like these, when his protectiveness wanted to lie.
As the truth came out, the cabbit’s long ears flicked back. A hardness in her pink eyes. For an instant, she looked more like a lynx than a hybrid should, but that shift wasn’t ferocity. More like muscle memory. Who she’d had to be in the Descendants of the Departed. Then her nose twitched, and she relaxed her posture with an exhale.
“Not great news, yet… I would trust Meteor to keep his word over Valerius.” Then she frowned. It’d been years since she’d known him. And she… well, her perception of Meteor was clouded, wasn’t it? She had loved him. “But it’s been years since I knew him.”
She licked her teeth. Nerves. A reminder of her neurotoxin fangs.
Then a memory of teenage boy Meteor: “Some are not worth saving.” But what Meteor had meant was most—anyone not of use to him, who wouldn’t follow him—were not worth saving. Whatever happened to him since the years she left the Big Island, she doubted he would have become less ruthless.
Lucia ducked her head and attempted to gently headbutt his shoulder. Affectionate, yes. But to keep her calculating expression out of sight from Monty and Brutei alike.
“I’m fine, the pain’s over. For now.” A partial lie. It’d faded down to a dull throb. But it’d disappear completely—until the next pain day. That was the pattern. That had to stay the pattern.
“And Meteor doesn’t… mock.” She straightened up. Frowned slightly, as she met her husband’s gaze. How could she explain this in a way he’d understand? Even the other Descendants had thought of Meteor as vicious with his words as with his claws and lightning. She shrugged. “He makes observations. When he sees a psychological wound, he can’t help himself: he has to twist the knife. He doesn’t even enjoy inflicting emotional suffering, not really. He’s just… curious about the depth of the infection.”
Then she shrugged. “You need me to go, Monty. Meteor probably thinks I died that night. My presence will distract him. Throw a wrench in his calculations.” Then her head tilted a tad to the right. “Besides, I know how the cannibals think, remember? If this is a trick… well, I’m the only one who’ll know what to watch for.”
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