Storms of the Sky

moor - XLIV

TW: panic attacks

--Briar--

I lift my head slightly. The heel of my hand meets my forehead. I groan as I grip something beneath me.

My head. It hurts. Really bad. Like the ice in my veins froze around my brain. It's like stomach sick...but for your head? But also, not head sick?

Ugh, what? What's this?

I grip the thing beneath me again. It's rough but loose. Strange. Wait.

"Bastet." I look forward, gripping their jacket. Fuck fuck fuck. What happened? Did I actually? Oh no. Oh god no.

Oh god no I basically held their hand.

My palm faces my eyes. I can feel the horror tugging at my body. I can't believe...I acted like that. In front of Bastet!

I look down, eyes wide. Apparently, the ice in my head doesn't stop from heat rising to my cheeks. I'm literally the biggest idiot of the year. Decade, maybe. I touched their hand.

My hand still feels tingly too.

It's you.

"You betrayer," I mutter at myself. I grip the jacket. The rough fabric is sort of comforting. I must give it back to them. Then maybe I can stay on topic, I can see if they want me to stay. Or even just keep talking. Right? Right, they would like that, right?

I press my palm to the ground, letting the dried needles prick it. My feet wobble as I push myself up. My arms slide nicely into this jacket. It's a little big. I can't even imagine how much bigger it is for Bastet. They're smaller than me, after all.

Or maybe they'll fill it out. They're around my age, right? Sixteen-year-olds grow. Sometimes.

My body feels like ice too. Each step is difficult. My bones feel brittle.

Where was Bastet again? The Meadow but they were going to do something right?

I stop.

That idiot. They got asked to fight something and took it. I grumble, stomping as hard as I can. It's more like a loud walk.

I push past a row of trees. Wow.

The Meadow hasn't changed a bit. There's the Moons' Pond with its cattail whiskers. And the rolling, grassy moor. The garden seems to have gotten a bit larger from what I can see. The sun is in my eyes after all. The garden is on the opposite side of the Meadow. The cottages sit, tucked back into the hills.

The Meadow seems like such a mighty name. You'd be surprised to find out it's about as big as a fourth of Maylea. Specifically, the East Sector, the smallest sector.

Is that a bonfire? That's new too. A group of people trudge up near it. Someone carries a limp body.

Oh FUCK.

I sprint down the hill I stand on. My arms bounce as I try to keep balance. My shoulders burn.

This idiot. This absolute idiot.

My heels push down into the soft dirt. I stumble. My body balances right on time. I almost fall to the ridge, revealing myself. The earth swallows the sun. Stars dot the sky.

I push on my toes. Tiny golden orbs flash in the darkening sky. Bastet.

That idiot.

I grasp my chest. Why does it burn? My throat feels like a bright light on a summer's night. All these bugs are making it hard to breathe. I shouldn't be feeling this way.

Whispers erupt as the group nears. I lower myself more, willing the grass to consume me whole. I inhale, pushing up. I claw myself to the edge, peering over.

Between grass blades Bastet lies. They nod up, gasping. Someone rushes over, holding them in their arms. Bastet sobs. My breath stops. A shout cradles in my throat. Bastet writhes beneath their friends. Tears stream down their face. They push against Flame. Their hands wrap around his arms.

"Thorn," they say, pushing more. "She needs me."

Bastet pushes their head into the ground, their eyes wide. Tears boil out of their eyes. More and more and more. Their friends coax her. I turn away.

I duck into the grass, my face warm and cheeks wet. I listen.