[ A little bit later, not even hours, she'll have pulled herself out of this mire and gotten to work - but for now, she needs this. She's further than she's ever been from home and it's happened again; she's always born failure stoically because that's why she exists, isn't it? To be wrong enough times that someone else notices and gets it right. She's never thought that she could have changed Robin's mind (like Chrom could) or saved Emmeryn (like no one could) or extinguished the Grimleal legacy before it even began.
Akvos is like that. More pieces to pick up. It's blackened, cold, like flesh dead from frostbite, and too familiar.
He makes the gesture and instead of shivering, she's shivering under a heavy, damp cloak. It shouldn't help, logically, but it does. It draws her attention up, remembering that she chose to share this moment with someone else. ]
It was... It was exactly like home. Ylisse that would be. Darkness, and the last people alive were cast out. [ Shaking her head, her hands slide up her arms, as if to reach for the spots where he'd laid the cloak. She's cold and her hair is fucked up in salt and tangles and Akvos is blighted, and she's handling none of it well. ] I'm sorry, I -
no subject
Akvos is like that. More pieces to pick up. It's blackened, cold, like flesh dead from frostbite, and too familiar.
He makes the gesture and instead of shivering, she's shivering under a heavy, damp cloak. It shouldn't help, logically, but it does. It draws her attention up, remembering that she chose to share this moment with someone else. ]
It was... It was exactly like home. Ylisse that would be. Darkness, and the last people alive were cast out. [ Shaking her head, her hands slide up her arms, as if to reach for the spots where he'd laid the cloak. She's cold and her hair is fucked up in salt and tangles and Akvos is blighted, and she's handling none of it well. ] I'm sorry, I -
... Thank you.
[ For the cloak, she means. ]