1/25/2026, 9:05 AM
fa'liya stiffens inwardly at the order, something tightening behind her ribs. a reflexive bracing. her ears flatten against the back of her skull; she does not wish to go, and yet she does not argue—the fight drains out of her all at once, leaving behind something hollow and sore.
relief should come with it, and instead there is a hollowing ache, slow and mournful, as though she is something in need of mending. his words are evidence to serve. the slowing of saatsine means rest, even if it is not named as such, and her lungs ache at the idea of stillness almost as much as they do at the thought of moving again, and yet there is no alleviation to stacking pressures. she draws another breath and feels it catch, thin and shallow, the wheeze pressing at the back of her throat like a reminder she cannot outrun.
a pause. longer this time. her tail flicks once and stills again. powder-blue eyes lift back to him, damp from stinging wind.
yes, father.she nods, obedient.
relief should come with it, and instead there is a hollowing ache, slow and mournful, as though she is something in need of mending. his words are evidence to serve. the slowing of saatsine means rest, even if it is not named as such, and her lungs ache at the idea of stillness almost as much as they do at the thought of moving again, and yet there is no alleviation to stacking pressures. she draws another breath and feels it catch, thin and shallow, the wheeze pressing at the back of her throat like a reminder she cannot outrun.
a pause. longer this time. her tail flicks once and stills again. powder-blue eyes lift back to him, damp from stinging wind.
do not—it is agonizing as she says it, broken.
do not make a burden of me, father.fa'liya murmurs. the words slip out before she can stop them, something sharp and ashamed. it is not an accusation—it is a plea. anger turned inward. grief with nowhere to rest. her eyes fall away from him as though her throat works hard around the rest.
i know. i can walk.