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Fantasy The Lulls Between

Persephone was the first to look away from Draven as he gave his answer. The fire light seem to catch her eye. How long has he been running? Better yet, how long has she been running? She sighed and placed her chin on one of her knees. Letting herself get even smaller, if it that was even possible.

She wanted to ask him how long he had been running but she didn’t my want to push his boundaries. Why would she push him over the edge when he hadn’t pushed her?

But there is a question in her mind that won’t leave her thoughts.

How long has Draven been running?

She should ask him, but something tugged at her not too. Neither of them wanted to speak on their little out burst, so why should she push it so much? What was the point of pushing if no one wanted to speak on their own problems? Persephone held up her hands to the fire, looking at the black scars on her fingers.

The tips of her fingers are black, making them stand out from the rest of her pale skin. She titled her head to the side, raising an eyebrow. How did she get them?

“You know,” she says, wiggling her fingers, “Persephone doesn’t know how she got these. They just…showed up.”

She didn’t know why she’s speaking about her scars, suddenly, or why she’s even changing the subject.

“So, if Persephone can’t really run from these scars…the scars seem to be stuck on her. No healing spell can fix them. No gloves can hide them. They will forever be in Persephone’s eye sight.”

With that note, she placed her hands in her cloak, hiding them away for a moment. Trying to get a peace of mind.

“So, running will have to come to end for Persephone.”
 
As Persephone changed the subject to her fingers, Draven's attention followed, letting his morose outlook fall into obscurity. Even after she hid her hands away, he made no attempt at hiding his curiosity, hanging on where she tucked them beneath her cloak as if able to see through. Still, there wasn't an ounce of judgment in his expression. No disgust nor fear, not even pity. He only listened on with attentive interest.

A good few moments after she finished, he broke the stillness by reaching up to his neck, hand settling on the leather sash trailing down his shoulders. It hung like a thick necklace, meeting itself across his chest, the strip flat against his armor. Most notably of all, however, was the striking jewel embedded into it.

As he unclasped it, he stood up and walked around the campfire only to seat himself next to Persephone. He held it low, allowing her to view the gem more closely. Its shape was perfect, like a tall diamond on a playing card, and it came to a tip like a pyramid at its center. It shone a bright, citrus yellow, and though it didn't glow on its own, the flame from behind it scattered amber hues through its center.

"This is my amulet," Draven explained quietly, inspecting it himself before turning his head to her. "I may not have the... appearance of a holy knight. It may be easy to forget, but all the same, I am a paladin. I've taken an oath, and this stone signifies that oath to Erathis. Goddess of law and justice."

"I-... Well. Suffice it to say, I have reason to believe in her divine power of judgment. Justice." He tilted the gem slightly, bouncing the light from a different angle. "Though I'd hardly admit to understanding it, it appears she believes in 'redemption' as well."

He spoke as though the concept of redemption was still fairly foreign to him. Regardless, he cast a tactful look back towards Persephone, towering massively even as they sat side-by-side. "You have doubts over your own nature. Not knowing who you were, nor the entirety of who you are now. But whoever you are, I do not believe that 'redemption' is a judgment upon the state of your body... the scars of your skin."

His sight flicked over towards his bare legs, pants still rolled up to the knee. "If I believed that, then I would have never taken my oath."
 
Persephone found herself smiling, brightly this time as she listened to Draven's words. He's a paladin, took an oath. The words of Draven filled Persephone with a bit of warmth inside. For once Persephone found it good to have a friend stick around with her instead of leaving her behind or forgotten. The warmth inside Persephone turned suddenly, the feeling of coldness over came her. She found herself closing her self up again. Her hands covering her ears again. Her soft mutters of 'no' and 'please' came again. Her scars somehow came with power again and started to glow, this time a little brighter.

"No..." She whispers, "Please...No...No..."

Her heart begin to race again. Her breathing became heavy as a tear or two came from her eyes. Her hands tightened a little, making the curls of her hair knot even more.

"Please...." She whispers, her voice sounded broken and even tired.

This time whatever was happening to her seemed to last longer than last time. After a few moments later, the scars glow faded away, she removed her hands from her ears, her racing heart seem to calmed down again. She whipped away the tears that fell from this strange episode.

"Thank you," She whispers to Draven. She lets out a shaky breath. "Persephone knows it probably wasn't easy for you to tell Persephone about your oath. You say that you might not look like a holy knight but you are a holy knight. But yes, Persephone thinks you are right. Persephone might not who she is at the moment but there is time to figure that out."

Persephone found herself looking at the amulet again. Her lips forming into the saddest smile. Feeling the good to Persephone was a challenge one she was hoping to over come.

Persephone pulls out her own amulet. A big coin that looks to be rusted copper, in the center of the coin, is a tree.

“This is Persephone’s amulet.” She whispers, tracing her figures over the tree, “Persephone serves a Goddess named Mielikki, she’s the Goddess of the forest.”
 
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Draven's alarm returned when Persephone began to suffer another episode of something he couldn't identify... not that he was particularly good at identifying anything in this world. One thing he was familiar with, however, was her distress. The helplessness. He wasn't sure what to call it, but he was well familiar with the panicked breathing, the shaking, and the spike of dread that lanced through the pounding heart.

Yet despite being so familiar with that feeling, the one thing he had never received was guidance through it. He had little idea of how to handle it within himself, much less anyone else. Not to mention the power that radiated from her fingertips - how would he ever hope to deal with that? It made his hairs raise in unease.

The only help he could provide was convincing himself not to recoil too much. He may have tensed. He may have inched back, and he may have prepare to run just in case, but still he didn't leave. He only clutched his amulet by the sash it was embedded in, leather straining beneath his grip.

In the end, he watched her from up close as it faded to nothing again, perplexed as she continued as if it had never happened.

He was almost too distracted by Persephone to fully process her reassurances afterwards. She called him a holy knight, and while he supposed he found it true on a technical level, still there was some part of him that rejected that title. At that comment, he gave her nothing more than an amused huff through the nose, coaxing himself to sit again and ease his limbs.

"You appear very connected to the forests." He commented, unable to disguise the remaining discomfort in his voice... but still making a clear attempt to. He glanced into the surrounding trees, the dark shade of night having long since overtaken them. "They are... bountiful, I will admit to that. Beautiful, even. Never before have I seen such abundant colour."

He then turned his head back towards her. "But you enjoy its splendor differently."
 
"The forest is the only place Persephone could call home. The only place she remembers." She says, her voice soft, almost as if she is afraid to speak any louder. "So, when Persephone says you are lucky to remember home, is because you are lucky to remember it."

Persephone's mind tried to picture her childhood home but the only image she could see is some sort of forest and nothing else. Sometimes in her dreams. she'll see flashes of faces and places but before she could make it out on who or the place they would vanish. Persephone let her amulet go before pulling out her journal and opening it.

"Persephone only remembers waking up in a forest one day." She explained, reading in the journal of her notes. "Persephone also some how got these scars that day too. How? She isn't sure."

As she said the word: scars she held up her left hand, the fire making it easy to see the black scars on her fingers, almost as they were dipped in black paint. A shiver run down her spine as she quickly puts her arm down. She flips though the pages of the journal. Her eyes barely reading the words in the dim light of the fire and moon. She huffs before closing the journal.

"Even if your home was scary or if your memories aren't what you want them to be, you are lucky to have a piece of home in your mind. Persephone tries her hardest to remember but...the flashes in her mind doesn't always help or stay long enough for Persephone to remember..."

Her fingers moves to the edge of the journal as if she itching to open the journal again. But the words in the journal have no meaning for her. At least not at this moment. She gulps and puts the journal away. Her hands went back to her amulet, fidgeting with it as if she can't sit still. She knew talking about home again is a risk. But she couldn't get out of her mind on Draven's out burst. Although Persephone is pushing the risk on the subject, she couldn't help to bring it up once again. After all they are in the forest, a place where she feels safe. A place where she can feel close to her Goddess.
 
For just a second, Draven believed he'd put to rest any talk about his origins. So when Persephone not only brought it up again, but claimed him lucky, he paused. The look upon his face as he stared in shock was distinctively hurt. As if she'd taken his very vulnerability and ran a knife through it. Neglecting to respond right away, he instead jerked his amulet out from Persephone's sight and stood, heading back to his side of the fire. It wasn't an overflowing wave of rage like she'd been subject to before, yet somehow this time her words seemed to harm him more than last.

He stood in the spot he had previously been sitting, this time faced away. Away from Persephone, away from the fire, all of it. He stared down at his own gemstone, now hiding it from Persephone's prying eyes as he ran a fingertip over its edges, as if to remind himself of his own convictions. He'd learned his lesson from last time. As he began to fasten his sash back around his neck, so too did his voice return, softer this time than last. More tactful.

"I pray that you find what you're looking for in your memories. That you find the home you so desperately desire." He began quiet, yet still his voice had a callousness that didn't shake away. His hand settled over the amulet over his chest, as if drawing on his own promises to provide him the patience he so sorely lacked. "But the one thing you must accept is that you know nothing of where I hail from, Persephone. Nor what it has done to me."

With a deep sigh to quell the resentment still raging in his chest, he finally turned back around towards the fire, seating himself and settling his eyes back on Persephone as if to exact his words.

"I am aware of how you cling to the memories of your home. How precious they are to you, and how you find hope within your quest to reclaim them. I don't begrudge you that purpose." he attempted to explain, selecting his words with precision. "But the truth is that if you had seen the workings of my home... If you knew how it lurks in every passing shadow, rings through the dead of night... The images, the gruesome-..."

He wilted just a little, his words leaving him in exasperation. "If you only knew..."

"You would never say such a hurtful thing."
 
Persephone found herself shrinking into her cloak as if she was trying to hide, letting go of her amulet. Her chin on one of her knees. She didn't have a lot of people looking out for her these days or this whole friendship thing was new to her. Yes, she pushed Draven again on the subject again. Yes, she is envy of him for even having a home even he if claimed it wasn't a good home. It was still home after all. She had no idea why she was clinging on to the idea of finding her way back home. What if her home wasn't good? Would she want to remember? She sallowed but it was hard too, her throat somehow be dry and closed up.

Persephone pulled her hood forward so it would hide her face from Draven. At her side was her bag, her journal in the sight. She huffed and pushed the journal in the bag and closed the bag, making it out of sight. She found her hands removing the amulet off her neck and just holding in it her hands. One of the most important thing she owns. She should apologized to Draven for the subject of home. But she couldn't bring herself to do so. She couldn't open mouth to speak. Instead she found herself leaving her amulet by the fire and little bit of dirt kicked onto the amulet as she walked by it. Her feet leading her to the near by trees by the water. Her back leaning on the tree as she faced the water.

She found a stick near her and begin to draw in the dirt in front of her. She started off drawing a tree like the one from her amulet. She should get her amulet, but she found that she didn't want to move at all. So here she sat by the water drawing her amulet that she threw on the ground. The forest should calm her down but she didn't know why she was so angry. She only hoped that whatever was going between Draven and herself things will get better. She needed to hang onto that feeling of hope. She is a cleric after all. Draven's a holy knight, so in theory he should have hope too, right?
 
Despite every attempt at tact Draven had made, there he was, watching Persephone march away on her own. At first, it stoked an ember of his frustration again, a glare boring in her direction. He breathed in deeply, then out through his mouth in a sigh, before leaning forward and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers around his horn.

He couldn't understand how Persephone couldn't understand him. Their exchange cycled through his head, and he continued to tell himself that if only she had seen what he had seen, felt what he felt, oh, how she'd bite her tongue and keep to herself. He couldn't fathom hoping for more memories.

But as he drew his gaze away, it naturally landed on the amulet she'd left behind. There was no denying the way his own memories poisoned him, but as he sat in contemplation, pressing his history against her own, the quiet thought occurred to him: It was a good thing she had not grown up how he did. That she sought her memories out instead of despising them. How different of a person she would be... dare he say it, worse of a person.

The two were apart, yet sitting in the quiet, neither of them knew how their thoughts mirrored each other. Hope. He couldn't imagine who she would be if the world had stunted her hope as severely as it had his own.

His shoulders draped downwards as another sigh escaped his nose, tired, before he decided to shift around the campfire, picking up Persephone's amulet.

He brushed the dirt off of its face, and then set it away from the fire atop a nearby stone. That being done, he then laid himself down against the grass, his back turned to shield his eyes from the flickering light of the flame. He found the angle to rest his head without straining his horns, closed his eyes, and hoped to catch a few hours of sleep that night.
 
It didn't take long for Persephone to fall asleep where she is. The sound of the water near by calmed her emotions down pretty quickly. However during the night she couldn't shake the nightmare away. It was just before dawn where she woke up herself up. Her skin cold and damped as her body shivered. Her heart pounding in her chest as she sat up, looking around. Safe in the forest.

"Draven..." She whispers her voice almost full of worry, looking over to the where the fire was, found him still asleep next to it.

She found herself relaxed still seeing Draven there at the campsite. The fire long gone. Her hand reached for her amulet but stopped as she remembered taking it off. Without thinking she quickly got up and started looking around the fire for her amulet only to find it cleaned off from the dirt and on stone near the fire. Her eyes moved towards Draven. Her heart felt icky from the events of few hours in the night. Did he clean off her amulet and move it away from the fire? She rubbed her tired eyes, not getting sleep was normal for Persephone. Nightmares always seem to linger in her mind during the night. The dark circles under her eyes never seem to go away. Pulling her hood off, she dusted off the dirt from clothes, grabbed her bag and put the amulet back on. The amulet rested proudly on her chest, almost sparking in the dim light.

She found herself smirking as she started a simple create water spell. Once it was good enough she pushed the spell towards Draven, making the water hit his face.

"RISE AND SHINE, sleeping princess!" She shouted, before going back to where the fire once was, pouring another create water spell on the longs, making sure the fire was completely gone.
 
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Much like Persephone, Draven wasn't a particularly great sleeper either. Much of his night was spent staring at the grass, the starry skies, or the final dying embers of the fire. By the time the morning came, he had finally managed some sleep, up until...

"GH-HAGH!" He sputtered out, all of a sudden drenched. He was left to flounder about in confusion for a few seconds before he slicked away the wet locks of hair that hugged his face and blinked rapidly, golden eyes meeting the first light of day.

It only took him a few seconds to process, at which rate his surprise fell into a glare, though there was some amount of amusement creeping under his apparent irritation. "Erathis continues my punishments, clearly. I may have to petition her for sanctuary from this..."

He flicked his fingers at her, sprinkling her in water and sarcasm. "... Dark and terrible fate."



It wasn't long before the two set off again. Despite the rude awakening at early hours, Draven made it a point to make no complaint. Though sleep was always scarce, he figured there were far worse ways to rouse. Still, he wore more of an exhausted expression than usual, mind still set on the events of the night before.

Dreams had to be the bane of Draven's existence, and with a glance to catch Persephone's expression from the corner of his eye as they walked, he had to doubt she favoured them either. He had mentioned running from his past the night before, but the dreamscape always seemed to be the place it was least effective. With how so many buried topics were dredged up - memories resurfacing that he had little interest in indulging - he'd planned to give the nightmares as little purchase as possible. He briefly wondered if Persephone pried her eyes open at night in the same way he did.

Before he knew it, Draven had crept a good few paces ahead of Persephone on their trail through the woods. There was still a coldness between the two, radiating from their previous quarrel. Despite the enthusiastic morning, the two still made very little attempt to speak to one another. Enough to where Draven considered slowing down when he realized he had drawn ahead, but some petty part of him refused. Just... for a little bit. He didn't mind the distance between them, and with how upset she was, he rationalized that she wouldn't either.

That is, until they came to a steeper part of the woods. Steep enough to where a staircase would have been appropriate. It was coated over in grass, still glossed with morning dew. He finally came to a stop the edge, looking down at the challenging terrain, before casting his glance towards Persephone and holding out his hand again. The offer of support still stood, though it was silent this time, unaccompanied by his usual chivalry.
 
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The sun finally rose, making it sunrise just as the two set off.

Draven looked like he didn't get much sleep like Persephone. She wonder if he had nightmares during the night as well. But she bite her tongue to keep herself from asking. After what happened last night, she didn't blame Draven for wanting space. She did push him after all. But if only he could understand how badly she wanted to find home. To find memories again. She shook the feeling of envy away. Maybe he was right, maybe it was good to not have certain memories. To not have a home... She huffed as she saw him stop.

As she stood next to Draven, his hand already out to help her. She huffed, slightly annoyed as she pushed his hand out of her way. Not ready to accepted any help. Not ready for anything yet. Even if she were to apologize first would he accepted her apologize? One could only hope at this point, right?

As she stepped forward to continue walking on the trail, her feet caught on something. A small stone or on her other foot, who knows? Persephone found herself rolling down the trail. She found herself...laughing?

"HELP!" She shouted as the rest of her voice turned into giggles after.

Well, this one way to get a way down the trail.
 
Draven's brow dropped, expression unamused when Persephone rejected his offer, but it snapped to shock as, quite literally on Persephone's first step down the hill, she began tumbling head-over heel like... well, frankly like the flaming tumbleweeds he recalled from his past; with her small stature, she comically seemed about as light as them, too. As she continued down, he reached after her more as a gesture of sympathy than anything else, his worry being outshone by a smugness he was relieved she couldn't see. There was little he could do anyways without risking his own hide. What was the harm in letting nature run its course?

Ah. But good people don't let others tumble down hills. Don't they? What if it's their own fault? What if they deserve it?

He couldn't place why his own thoughts were suddenly not sitting well with him.

He stared in her direction in perplexed fascination before sighing, resigning himself to following her. He was particularly cautious on his way down, only slipping up a couple of times as he skid, working from tree to tree in order to control his descent. By the time he had reached the bottom, Persephone's tumbling had come to a relatively recent stop.

She had been filling the forest with her mad giggling the entire way, so he could only assume she wasn't seriously harmed. Managing to muster an unimpressed look on his face over his own amusement, he said absolutely nothing.

And leaned down to hold a hand out to her again. Perhaps letting his smugness show a little too much.
 
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Persephone's laughter came to end once she reached down the hill. Her eyes opened, a little bit blurry from dizziness she had from roll. When things she came to the picture, she saw Draven standing over her. His hand waiting for her to grab it. Without even thinking too much, she took the hand that he offered. Letting Draven help her up, she looked over her little body. Making sure nothing was too damaged. To her own luck, she seemed fine, maybe a scratched on her knee showing a little blood. But no broken bone. She's a cleric after all, she can heal herself once they have make camp that is. She looked at the hill, she just had rolled down. Her mind almost wanting to do it again. Her eyes went to Draven, who offered her help still after rejecting it the first time. A lesson learned for Persephone Moonstone, right?

She cleared her throat, as if she was getting ready to speak.

"Thank you." She says, her lips still in a smile, she's trying her best to hold back the laughter. "You didn't have to help but you still held out your hand."

She could tell there was still a bit grudge between them. Wanting to break that, she should be the first to say sorry, right? After all she did push him to speak on subject he's wanting to forget. The smile faded from her lips as she opened them.

"Persephone is sorry." She says, her tone low and soft. But her eyes still looked at Draven.

With the words being said, she turned her back to the Tiefling and started to walk on the trail again. For being a Cleric, she sure wasn't good with emotions. She didn't like to deal with emotions very much other than happiness. So the apology that she said to Draven was very awkward for her to do. But it was done with. The choice was Draven's now, he could either accepted her apology or not. Whatever happens now, she only hoped that the grudge between them was no longer there. Hopefully there was something in that Tiefling to see how much it took her to say sorry, even if it was an awkward one, even to another person the sorry didn't even sound meaningful. She stopped walking and turned back to him, her lips forming a smile now. Her mind still picturing her rolling down the hill once again.

"You coming?"
 
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The apology came abruptly, brief as it was sudden. Though Persephone's tone was gentle, it still seemed to shock Draven. Not that he didn't appreciate it, but he had silently assumed they would spend the rest of their day of travel wrapped in that strange pact of silence and irritation. He had to catch up to her pace after his stunned pause.

It was quiet for a distance more. The few minutes that passed made it seem like Draven had dropped the subject entirely, no confirmation as to his opinion over her apology. Still, out of the blue, he mumbled back.

"I didn't mean to yell." He confessed. It was... apology-adjacent, at least? His tone was brimming with remorse and understanding of his own wrongdoing, anyways. "That was inappropriate, I-..."

Despite all the time he had to think about his words, he still struggled to piece them together in practice. He stared intently at the path below his feet, slowing his pace to match Persephone's once he realized his speed.

"I don't want you to envy me. I do not live an... enviable life. Please understand that." He affirmed still, his stance on the subject unchanging. Even so, he spoke with no fury or resentment, and a softness that more fit the tranquility of the forest. "But I imagine your desire for answers do not make for an easy life, yourself. Our two experiences are separate. Incomparable."

"I... am no more lucky to retain my memories than you are for having lost them."

He wasn't certain that Persephone would understand. How could he make her? It wasn't the fact that his past was brought up that had wounded him, rather that she had called him lucky.

Lucky for the very thing that ruined his life.

He pressed his lips together as if dissatisfied with his own response, yet with no way to better it. A tired wave of sorrow came over his face like a low tide, somber and hushed. He wasn't being as open as he had dared to be the night before, but still his gaze darting away to the shrubs as if trying to escape. His own vulnerability writhed inside of him uncomfortably, begging to be hidden away again. He didn't want to be recoiled from as if he were some loathsome creature.

"Please don't-..." He had to swallow his speech down again. "... do not praise my memories."

And his voice lowered to the point where he somewhat hoped to not be heard. He didn't know how she would react.

"Please don't praise my torturer."
 
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Persephone’s ear titled up, listening to Draven’s words. Draven had every right to yell. Persephone did push the man speak when he didn’t want to. Didn’t want to remember. She stopped and turned to stand in front of him, walking backwards now.

“You had every right to yell,” She said, “Persephone pushed the subject on. You’ll have to forgive her for that. You see…She’s not good with human interactions, so reading people or understanding them is hard for Persephone. But can we at least promise each other something?”

She stopped walking and held up her pinky.

“If you ever need a friend, need someone to talk to about..things, or want comfort after a night…” she seemed to stop at the word nightmare, as if she is remembering her own from the night before. “Nightmare, you’ll go to Persephone and Persephone will do her best to go to you if she needs anything.”

She looked at her held up pink, remembering that Draven might not have heard of the way humans keeping their promises.

“It’s a pinky promise,” She explained, “Humans says it’s the highest form to keep promises…At least that’s what Persephone’s heard.”

Her cheeks turned a little pink, matching her hair. She glanced down as if she’s almost embarrassed to do this, still holding up her pinky.
 
As Persephone halted him in favour of presenting her pinky, Draven's reaction was about as could be expected, perplexed and making every effort to understand what Persephone was trying to get from him.

"Pinky... promise." He repeated slowly, as if testing the words' weight. "The very highest echelon of binding pact..."

He trailed off, his expression slowly shifting into one of hesitant realization. Then horror. Dread. Suddenly that pinkie seemed like some sickening threat. He reared his head back in shock and disgust.

"I will not sever any of your digits for the sake of a blood-binding oath!" He was adamant, eyes wide and lilac cheeks a shade paler than usual. "I-I'm sorry, but such a macabre ritual seems... disproportionate! A contract bound to the highest law, of blood, bone and gristle!"

So it seemed there were a few cultural differences.
 
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Persephone rolled her eyes. For a moment she forgot who she was talking to.

“Firstly, a pinky promise isn’t an oath. And definitely not an oath where you have to give blood.” She hisses. “So no need to serve one of our fingers off. It’s a traditional gesture commonly practiced among kids. You take your pinky and wrap it around mine.”

Persephone took a step forward, closer to Draven. Her hand grabbed his, locked her pinky around his.

“Like this,” She says. “No blood needed. It’s a simple promise yet powerful one among kids. And to some adults depending on who you’re talking too. It’s just a silly little things human kids do to bring them comfort over certain promises.”

With that being said, she removed her pinky, letting her hand dropped to her side. A soft smile on her face. Her eyes glanced down to her knee, seeing the blood once again. Sitting down on the ground, she quickly mumbled a word of healing. A prayer to her Goddess. The blood was still there, she could clean that off later but the pain she felt as she walked, went away. She stood up, this time looking at Draven.

“You ready to walk?”
 
Draven blinked as his hand was pulled down, Persephone's pinky wrapping around his own. Hesitant, he curled his finger back around hers, the size difference between them being nearly comical. He took in their exchange with fascination, soaking up all this new information like a sponge.

"I-... see," he began, his tone betraying his lack of understanding. Like even such a basic, integral gesture was completely foreign to him. "Even your children are bound by such formidable honour."

Draven observed Persephone in quiet fascination as she cast her spell and readied herself for the lengthy journey ahead. Their interaction left him thoughtful once more, gaze laid on her pleasant, expectant smile.

He began walking alongside her before speaking up again.

"Thank you." He uttered simply, eyes locked ahead with a stoicism that contrasted his gratitude. The pause that dragged on afterwards seemed to signal the end of the conversation, but as it fell...

"You do not look at me, erm... the same way most do when I show unfamiliarity with such things."
 
Persephone gave a small nod, as she felt her throat become dry. She could only say the same to him after all. He was the first to treat her like she was normal. But he still warned others of how she talked. Still, he treated her like an actual being of existence. It wasn’t easy for either of them it seemed. Life had been to cruel to them in the past before founding each other.

“You’re welcome…?” She asked, she didn’t mean it to sound like a question. But it was rare for someone to give her that moment of gratitude. Even though she herself is a Cleric, you expect people to be thanking clerics all the time. But they never really thanked her after hearing the way she spoke. Not after seeing her scars on her fingers. Most people just ignore her and go to someone else for healing. Someone who doesn’t have scars.

“Persephone should be really thanking you, really.” She whispers, hoping that he could still her quiet voice. “You are the first along with the rest of the group to treat Persephone with such normality. Not many would take their chances being healed by a creature with…scars on her fingers. Think that Persephone isn’t a holy person.”

She found herself quiet again after speaking. She didn’t know how she felt about this. About being thanked. Although it was rare for her, it still gave her something to feel about. To think about. She looked at her scars on her figures, the feeling of safety and gratitude went away.

They started to glow dimly again but faded as she shook her head and kept on walking. She didn’t want to think about them. Or the bad came over her. Maybe the scars are the reason others look at her strange besides on how she talks. Can she get rid of them?

Maybe, Draven was right after all. Maybe her forgetting about home is a good thing. Maybe she should look at it that way more instead of a burden. Maybe it’s time to stop running for Persephone and just embrace the scars. After all they’re apart of her, right? Maybe hope was just teasing her.

“How much longer do you think this trail is?” She asked, looking behind her and in front of her. “Are we even going the right way?”
 
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