in loving memory

Whispers.

Tamir never understood them, not completely. Whether it was betrayal that dripped from cherry lips or if it was love that fell in swift flicks, he'd confused them both. Betrayal mingled with lust, dancing intertwined across a narrow plane. He was no stranger to either, but very rarely had Tamir ever wielded such...love. Love that wilted all the betrayal and chased away every sense of doubt. Love; love that consumed him, made him choke, made him seize. But this, he’d begun and ended with her, even if she wished otherwise.

But love with them was a foolish desire, a feeble and childish want that would never come to fruition. And though it was her that said it, her that uttered the words that even Tamir fell short of, it was with affection that she gazed upon him. Not love, not lust, not any semblance of desire. They were, he supposed, friends. The want in his chest hadn’t depleted at the realization, but the heaviness of the implication was enough to make even the strongest of men stumble.

His arrival brought upon new things—forgotten things.

Try as he might, Tamir was incapable of letting the past remain where it ought to be. There wasn't a moment where he didn't wonder of his family, those both lost and those he'd found himself with again. Whispers of their sins would follow them, leaving but a wake of death and sorrow. But yet, it was them who survived, them who prevailed amidst all the darkness.

Tove and Tamir had been nothing but constant, bound even by the thinnest of threads, the most frayed. Still, they stuck by one another, forever in each other's lives and surely that had to mean something? That had to be destiny if nothing else. Fate, even. He could wish it away, all the doubts and all the possibilities of something far more heartbreaking, but the fact was absolute. They were a constant. Always together, always them.

---

Whispers.

Like soft desires spoken in candlelight, his memories were drawn from him, exposed so raw that Tamir might’ve found himself flinching at the sight. The Star Mother would wield her tricks, play upon him her games and see how he’d fair. And him? Her loyal soldier, her dutiful acolyte, he would watch without opinion or complaint.

He was hurt, broken, distrustful of the very faith that gave him all he had. This was simply the punishment, the consequence for his ungratefulness. All that was given to him would be taken away, pulled from him with a single tug and while he would remain afflicted, his lips wouldn’t part, his feet wouldn’t move. He would take it with an unbroken resolve he was willed to have.

---

Tamir stirred in the depths of the shadows, his mind slowly pulling from a dream he didn’t wish to return from. So real and so finally tangible, his mind only dwelled on the family he’d had amidst the stars. Who were they? What were their names? How could he get there?

Where would he even start?

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fear was a storm she'd experienced all her life. it was a storm she'd weathered and stood strong against, perhaps for too long. it was her ability to stand strong that had killed her in the end, against the man that had tortured her mother, then killed her in front of his brood's own eyes. it was she that had launched forward to try and save their mother and her siblings, and it was only she that had suffered the consequences for it.

the pain she had suffered had lasted even through her death, razing her nerves even when there were none to burn. lightning sparked over and over across her skin, leaving wounds that would forever scar. some were deep and some were shallow, some would fade in time and some would speak her trauma for any and all her lives.

and so it would be, as she was delivered into the next in an blinding flash of energetic fury, a force to be reckoned with always and forever.

in that moment, Savan was born again, there upon the terrace. a flash of lightning in a calm day, a roil of thunder as the water around her ankles sizzled. breath exploded into her lungs with that first draw, eyes flashing open with her core form shining brightly.

as if she were rebuilt layer by layer, the Furie calmed as she stood there, lightly singed fur smoking. she reformed, her conscious slipping from the ether, out from the Star Mother's warm embrace, into her now beating chest.

it was now that she blinked, beginning to look around and stop firmly when she saw him.

“Tamir…”

had she survived after all?

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