[Flins keeps his eyes trained on the sea, watching as that boat passes alongside the lighthouse, the distant cheers of the fisherman after a long day's work mixed with the waning cries of the gulls. He'd stay like this for as long as Husk needed.
In fact, it wasn't too different from their past, was it? The only difference was the lack of a door. His voice is soft, letting a feather glide along his finger as he hears Husk speak up, only to have it catch in his throat.]
Go on.
[A whisper, a gentle push. The same one he'd used when Husk would vent outside his lighthouse years ago.
And he listens once those words spill out. Pain, fear, anger, and disgust that had waited years to lash out against their oppressor, only for there to be no target when that day finally came. It's no wonder Husk is conflicted--anyone, even a fae would be.
The hints of static edge at the tips of his fingers as he continues to stroke, making sure he doesn't shock the cat, but at the same time, making it known that Husk wasn't alone in this anger. Many...so many were with him on the subject. The edge of his eyes have blue flames licking his eyelashes, and it's not until Husk finishes that he exhales, exhaustively, as if sharing in the man's fatigue.]
A hollow victory. He is no longer a danger, getting to roam free, and yet all you gained out of the situation was what had truly been owed to you from the start.
Justice at its core can be cruel.
[He nuzzles gently into that tail, letting the fur brush his cheek again.]
Let us have a moment of time, far removed from the possible, impossible. Where Alastor and his archangel mean nothing. What does your heart want?
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Date: 2025-12-22 10:34 pm (UTC)In fact, it wasn't too different from their past, was it? The only difference was the lack of a door. His voice is soft, letting a feather glide along his finger as he hears Husk speak up, only to have it catch in his throat.]
Go on.
[A whisper, a gentle push. The same one he'd used when Husk would vent outside his lighthouse years ago.
And he listens once those words spill out. Pain, fear, anger, and disgust that had waited years to lash out against their oppressor, only for there to be no target when that day finally came. It's no wonder Husk is conflicted--anyone, even a fae would be.
The hints of static edge at the tips of his fingers as he continues to stroke, making sure he doesn't shock the cat, but at the same time, making it known that Husk wasn't alone in this anger. Many...so many were with him on the subject. The edge of his eyes have blue flames licking his eyelashes, and it's not until Husk finishes that he exhales, exhaustively, as if sharing in the man's fatigue.]
A hollow victory. He is no longer a danger, getting to roam free, and yet all you gained out of the situation was what had truly been owed to you from the start.
Justice at its core can be cruel.
[He nuzzles gently into that tail, letting the fur brush his cheek again.]
Let us have a moment of time, far removed from the possible, impossible. Where Alastor and his archangel mean nothing. What does your heart want?