[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by magnolia on December 17, 2008, 4:17 am
75.130.209.210
The wind hissed. She winced, pushed back, head snapping in towards her chest, neck curving. For a moment, she is quiet, blank-looking. She waits, to see if it will happen again, waits for the pain of, its, sudden displeasure. There is nothing. Desreal grows still. He isn’t speaking. He isn’t looking at her. She had reached out, he had flinched (a mere shiver), and she, almost in a simple reaction, pulled away. She was left watching the battle that he seemed to have going on with himself, fighting back the growing feeling of uselessness.
She asks herself, once again, why do I care so much? Only, she forgets to answer that question, drawn instead to the waiver of his voice, “You could,” she almost just breathes, as if speaking more to herself, like she was the one who needed the convincing, “You could, honestly, you jus--” , and abruptly, she stops talking, watching him shutter, then fall, like the ground was ripped out from under him.
She freezes. She doesn’t want to, but for a moment, her brain screams move, and her body refuses. There is a crackling in the sky, a shivering of the trees around them, and as if coaxed by the hard push of the wind, she half-jumps forward, stopping, near his shoulder, “Severus?”, she waits, “Severus?”, she waits. Nothing. “Severus?”, her voice has raised an octave, and without thinking, she touches him, taken surprise by the jolt that so willingly moves from her body to his, a quick burst of her healing, instinct, uncalled for. Don’t enough things have a mind of their own already?.
Magnolia backs up just a step, still confused, but even more worried than before. She feels… useless, still, worse than before.. “Severus?”, she echoes again, lines etching their way into her face.
What else can you do? Like a dam curling against her foal, she drops to her knees next to him, though with no intentions to sleep. He would wake up soon. He had to. She tried to reach out to him, but all she could see in his head were blurs, and they made her dizzy. Her healing continue to flicker against him, like a light, curling through the thick air of the glade. She just couldn’t see the difference any of this was making.
Wake up., she thinks, eyes closing, just for a moment... Moments have ways of stretching.
seer of the scholars
sister to the air 
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