#legend actually being better at riding bears than wild because of all the practice he has with moosh

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

*Horse headcanons for the chain?

Hmmmmm horse headcanons huh. welp!

Twilight and Warriors often have arguments about which of them is the better rider. Wars probably wins out in the mounted combat areas (seeing as he has actual training rather than just going off instinct) but Twi has them all beat in the actual riding category, though Wild tries to give him a run for his money now and again.

Horses just seem to intrinsically like Time. Think old bird lady but for horses. Even Wild's more bad tempered mounts like him without bribery, which Wild thinks is unfair. The champion is somewhat convinced he's been blessed by Malanya despite the older claiming not to know anything about the Horse God.

Due to being a smithy that is well liked by the royal family, I can see Four being very comfortable around horses, having to shoe them all the time. However, due to horseshoes being the same shape and kinda monotonous to work on, I don't think he particularly enjoys farrier work.

Also, because of the existence of the carrot power-up in FSA, I think that Four theoretically knows how to ride but just... not correctly. Kid doesn't know how to ride slowly. It gives Twilight a minor heart attack because he helps the smithy saddle up and then BOOM hes just fucking GONE see you later small cowboy.

Legend and Sky can ride fine enough but its clear to Twi that neither of them learned by riding horses. Sky tends to want to sit farther back than is needed, more used to having to make room for wings. And Leg. Twilight has no clue what the hell Legend has been riding that makes all of his habits so fucking weird but it sure as Hylia wasnt a horse.

Wind and Hyrule have the least amount of experience with horses and riding in general. Wind probably gets a hang of it pretty quick. Meanwhile, Hyrule (being Hyrule) talks to all the horses in very soothing tones and is always super nice to them because he is not interested in another Horsehead fight. Not taking any chances here.

[bokettochild]

Opera house AU

Telma's has a group of old regulars that have been coming to her bar since it opened 27 years ago. Theyre pretty much the cast of Cheers with how familiar they are with her and each other;

Rusl: ex-army, current Ordon rancher. Started visiting when he was in the Reserves, always comes by whenever he's in town. Introduced Twilight to the place and delivers Telma Ordon Cider

Renado: a general practice doctor, currently lives in Kakariko. Usually hitches a ride with Rusl to the city

Auru: university professor and Dusk's old high school teacher. Visits the most and has an endless well of amusing anecdotes about his students. Also an amazing piano player, Telma's has one that he loves playing

Shad: aspiring historian, currently works at the museum. Helped Twilight settle in due to being about his age

Ashei: wildlife ranger that works in Hebra (Wild has seen her a few times). Dresses like she's a 1760s pioneer with all the animal furs for keeping warm, has wrestled bears and tamed Tundra Rhinos

Grandpa: One of the oldest regulars and recommended Telma's to his gang. Has such a strong liver that out-drinking him has become a popular wager (his winning streak spans 15+ years)

When all of them get together, they belt out this:

Absolutally!

I love the idea of Rusl being an ex-military man, even if it was the reserves and not active duty. I feel like the moment he learned Twi intended to head up Crown City side once he outgrew the foster system, he totally decided to help him by introducing him to some folks up there, and what better place than at his favorite bar/diner?

I see Renado being a GP from Kakariko, sure! I can see him being a quieter presence at the bar, but plays along when someone inevitably makes a joke about "is there a doctor in the house" whenever someone insults another person. he get's a kick out of that, but mostly just enjoys hanging out with people closer to his own age.

Auru being Dusk's highschool teacher though means he probably knew about all the drama going on there. He knows about Midna (when she and Twi started dating i think he probably would have been trying so hard to hold his tongue and mind his own business) but finding out that Rusl's "grandson" is actually the kid of two of his old students would blow this man's mind LOL

Shad is totally a museum worker, and trying to get a research grant. I'm seeing him like Milo from Disney's Atlantis though, and no one wants to support his research into a lost and forgotten civilization (actually, check that, why is Shad literally just Milo?!?!?!?!?!) Shad has shared his research with Twi (and thus lil Ledge) for years. I'm injecting my history nerd Legend agenda in here to say they get along like a house on fire, and Shad drags both of them (and anyone else he can) on "research missions" around Crown City. He wants to explore around the old opera house, but Lullaby won't let him LOL.

Asheii and Twilight are hiking buddies I think. For fun. I want them to be hiking buddies. Sometimes they go with Shad when he wants to look at old ruins, but most of the time they go alone because he's kinda slow/has horrid stamina. They don't do much talking, but she totally takes him along to work sometimes and they go on camping adventures every summer.

Grandpa is a new member of their group, but has been coming to the bar since before Telma acquired it. It just so happens that his biker group comes in on the same days that the others do, so they intermingle quite a bit. He and Telma joke and bicker at each other like an old married couple (they have no interest in each other) and it humors the rest of the regular crowd to no end.

[bittersweetmelxdy]

You you please write something with period gavin x mc perhaps an arranged marriage where they actually end up falling for each other or something????

I have no idea if this is what you wanted excatly but when I read the request my mind went to this situation. I do love the little world I’ve built around them though, so if anyone wants to request anything for them in this au, I’d be glad to write it. I now this request took a long time, but I really hope you like it, although I’m a bit iffy on the ending. Feedback is welcome :)

Title: the blessings of abroken footPairing: Gavin x MCWords: 2261

The door slammed againstthe wall at such a volume that you heard the paintings in the hallway rattle soviolently you thought they may fall. You flinched dropping your book onto yourlap and looked at the doorway to see your furious husband panting in thedoorway. If you weren’t so terrified of his rage right now, you would admit helooked very attractive right now, the waves of anger rolling off him,even from this short distance setting your nerves aflame.

“So? Would you like toexplain yourself, Wife?” Gavin said in a cold emotionless voice,sneering the last word and causing you to bristle at his attitude.

“How dare you?”

“How dare I! I told you thehorse needed breaking in, it’s wild! That’s why it threw you, I told you towait for me to ride with you!”

“How long am I supposed towait? Oh yes, until there’s no one there, so you won’t feel embarrassed atbeing seen with me, I’m so sorry but I wanted to ride the horse at least once beforeI died.”

“What did you say?” if youweren’t so angry, you would swear he sounded almost concerned? Shocked? Itdidn’t matter you felt like you were going to break, so you wanted him gone.

“It doesn’t matter youwouldn’t care anyway, just get out.”

“I’ve never said-“

“GET OUT!” You threw thebook from your bed at your husband, who surprisingly didn’t dodge the book butlet it hit him in the chest and fall helplessly to the floor.

The silence stretched outbetween the two of you as you watched each other, Gavin made a move to walktowards you, but seeing you turn your head angrily in the opposite direction tohim, he thought better of it and instead sighed and mumbled something thatsounded a lot like “I’ll take my leave of you now”, and he left the room. Assoon as the door closed you grabbed a pillow from your bed and screamed intoit, sobs wracked your body as you felt like your heart was breaking. ‘Pathetic,absolutely pathetic’ your mind screamed at you, you had been married for ayear and yet it still felt like the two of you were standing on two oppositesides of a chasm. A year so being so close to the man you love, locked in anarranged marriage, doomed to a life of hopeless pining for a man who had closedhis heart to you. With these thoughts echoing in your mind, you continued tocry.

Little did you know howwrong you were, Gavin didn’t leave after he closed your door, he instead leanthis forehead against the door and breathed deeply. He had to physicallyrestrain himself from bursting into the room and gathering you into his arms atthe sound of your muffled scream. He turned around leaning his back against thedoor, and slid down to sit of the floor, resting his head back on the heavy oakdoor and closing his eyes. He sat there motionless, listening to you cry, eachsharp intake of breath of yours like a knife to his heart. He felt his own eyesbecome pricked with tears as he changed position, so his head was cradled inhis hands. When Anna (one of the household maids), ran up to him and the othersoldiers in the training ground panting out the sentence “The Mistress… Arrowthrew her…” he felt like he had been plunged into an icy river. It wasn’t justthe fact that that being thrown from a horse was dangerous, but he hadbought that horse for you. You had let out a shriek of delight at the sight ofthe stallion the very first time you saw it, but Arrow had yet to be broken in,he was too aggressive for a rider just yet, and he had hoped that the firsttime you rode that horse he would’ve been right beside you to guide you. But hehad taken too long, and in your restlessness, you had taken the horse outyourself and it had thrown you. He was relieved that your injuries were just abruised hip and side and a sprained ankle, the doctor had told him before heleft to just make sure you didn’t put your weight on your bruised side and youwere on bedrest for the next two weeks. Gavin breathed out a laugh rememberingthe adorable way you had scrunched your nose at the notion of “bed rest” andpouted for the rest of the doctor’s prescription. He had held in his emotionswhile the doctor was in the room, but as soon as he saw the doctor off andwalked back to your room, his anger rose with each step until it exploded inthe interaction you just had.

He didn’t know what to dowith you sometimes, sometimes he wanted to shake you, and other times he wantedto just push you up against the closest wall or door and kiss you senseless. Hewas hopelessly in love with you, had been for years, and sometimes he felt likeyou felt the same way, but he was scared to go further than banter, shy smilesand hands brushing but never touching. Because what if it was all in his head, whatif he loved you so much that he was projecting your reciprocation of hisfeelings onto you, and you were just grinning and bearing being married to anarmy general, as this was all an arranged affair. But that didn’t stop himpining after you, looking back at you when you weren’t looking and thanking theLord that he was blessed enough to be granted the opportunity to stand by yourside as your husband. And he’d fight until his dying breath, to earn your love,even if in the end it was all in vain.

Not hearing your sobsanymore Gavin quietly stood and opened the door silently, using his training hemuffled his footsteps so that he was able to walk up to your bedside withoutwaking you up. Seeing your body curled in a fetal position only served to causehim more pain, your brows were furrowed, quiet whimpers escaped you every nowand again, and tear tracts were visible in the moonlight breaking through yourdrawn curtains. Gavin carefully stroked his hand through your hair, marvelingat how the simple action caused your body to relax but the furrowing of yourbrows remained. He leaned over and placed a kiss of your forehead, whispering aquiet goodnight against your skin, and he left with a smile on his face knowingthat you were now sporting a serene smile on your lips in your sleep.

A few days later, Gavinfound himself standing in your doorway once again panting and angry.

“The Doctor said to ‘stayin bed’ what part of that was so hard to understand.”

“The part where youdecided you could use my incapacity as an excuse to dally with other youngwomen.”

“I’m sorry what?! Whichyoung woman am I supposedly dallying with? Especially since I spend my dayswith you!”

That was true, you didn’tquite understand it, but since your injury had occurred, Gavin spent as muchtime as he could at home. He read to you from various books, and talked to youabout his day, his work and his past. The chasm between the two of you shrank greatly,and anyone looking in from the outside might think the two of you acted like acouple in courtship. You blushed a lot more, your heart swelling every timeyour husband flashed his breath-taking smile at you. He was growing less shy withhis affection, holding your hand tightly on the bedsheets, cradling your facein his heads as he placed kisses on your forehead, temple and cheeks, lookingyou in the eyes as his eyes screamed of his affection for you. And youreciprocated right back, blushing at his affection, laughing at his jokes,leaning into his touch and showing real interest in your husband’s affairs. Bothyou and Gavin would say you felt weightless in your love.

But it all came crashingdown in an instant, a week had gone by and you had been keeping a secret fromyour husband, not the one about being hopelessly in love with him, but you hadbeen practicing in his absence, putting weight on your foot and trying tohobble around your room. During one of these sessions you had wandered to reston the window-seat to catch your breath and had looked down training groundswhere you knew your husband was. And there it was, your husband and Miss Lowein an embrace, surrounded by soldiers, she had her hands on his chest and hehad his arms around her frame. She had looked up at him batting her lashesflirtatiously, and spoke to him leaning on his chest dramatically, and you sawred, even though you couldn’t hear their words due to the distance between thetraining ground and the third-floor window, you could guess at the context.Completely ignoring your pain, you hobbled to your closet and pulled out yourtrunks dragging them into the centre of the room and flinging them open.Furniture crashed to the floor catching the attention of Minor, Gavin’s footman,who upon seeing you throwing your clothes into your trunks tears running downyour face, ran to find your husband. Leading back to the present stand-off.

“Don’t act like you don’tknow what you did! I saw it okay!” you were growing frantic, and your breathwas coming out in hiccups.

“Saw what dearest?” Gavinvoice was like honey as he approached you, he knelt before you gently pryingyour hands off the dress in your hands.

“You and Miss Lowe, I getit you know, she’s pretty and can speak five languages and is training in yoursquad and of course you love her who wouldn’t she’s-“

“She isn’t you.” Gavin cutyou off forcefully.

Gavin pulled you by yourforearms until your noses were a breath apart and you were lost in his warmbrown eyes.

“She’s not sweet, orfunny, or kind. She isn’t clumsy, she doesn’t get lost in telling me stories,she doesn’t sit with me in our bedroom and watch the stars with me, telling meall the legends associated with the constellations. She’s not my wife, andshe’s not the women I’ve been in love with even before we were joined inmatrimony.”

Gavin’s walls camecrumbling down before you, when Minor found him in the armoury and told him youwere packing to leave, he knew it was now or never. Either he told you of hisunrequited feelings or you left, and Gavin surmised he’d rather have you by hisside despite not having your heart than lose you forever. At his confession yougasped, and fresh tears spilled from your eyes, Gavin taking this as rejection,closed his eyes and started to move away from you, but your vice grip on hisforearms caused his eyes to spring back open.

“No! I thought you- Ididn’t know- about your feelings”

“It’s okay, I understandif you still want to leave, it will probably be hard for you to live with a manwho is unrequitedly in love with you.”

“He’s not. He’s notunrequitedly in love with me, I mean his feelings are very much requited.” You finishedsoftly.

For a second the two ofyou just blinked at each other, before Gavin ripped his arms from yours andburied them in your hair knocking you to the floor, stealing your breath in apassionate kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he kissed you with somuch love, so much passion that at some point you couldn’t tell whether thesalty tears you tasted were yours or his. Pulling back, Gavin lingered over youhis breath mingled with yours, his hands reverently pulling you up to asitting position surrounded by his presence. His legs caged you in, and one armwrapped around your waist, while the other stroked your hair and face tenderly.

“You love me?” He said softlyas if the moment you now shared would shatter at a greater volume.

“I’ve been in love withyou for years Gavin.” You admitted sniffing as his calloused thumbs wiped awayyour tears.

Gavin let out a softlaugh, “We’ve been wasting all this time, haven’t we?” he looked around yourroom at the chaos of clothes and upturned furniture, “you were really trying toleave weren’t you?”

“I couldn’t watch you fallin love with her Gavin, not when you already have my heart in your hands,”

“That would never happen,you’ve been holding my heart in your tiny hands since childhood.” He declaredfirmly bringing your hand up to his lips and placing a firm kiss upon it. “NowI have an important favour to ask of you.”

“What?”

“Stay, here, with me.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

The two of you sharedanother sweet kiss surrounded by chaos, your hearts finally aligned after ayear of dissonance. You were well aware of the issues the two of you still had,the things you both needed to talk about together but you knew that no matterwhat came, you and Gavin would be standing next to each other hand-in-hand.Very much requitedly in love.

[long-way-down-rp-archive]

Devana

True Name: No  Faceclaim: Eva Green  Nicknames and Aliases: Dziewanna, Dziewona, Debena, or Dilwica; Various names and titles throughout history.  Date of Birth: Unknown  Apparent Age: 36  Actual Age: Primordial  Gender: Female  Kind or Calling: Wild Spirit - Ancient One Occupation: Currently unemployed, but has worked a large variety of jobs in the past, in both rural and high populace areas.

Distinguishing Marks: Variety of smaller scars on her hands from knives and being overall very active outside especially. Calluses on her hands to reflect this as well, but her archery leaves its own calluses and wear as well. Scars from a branding iron across her ribs that she doesn’t really bother hiding - not these days, anyway. During the times of witch trials, she was extremely paranoid about ensuring there was no way they’d be seen. She also has had Veles' sigil tattooed over her heart.

Personality: Fiercely independent - Devana's iconography was specifically known for her hair being unbound even as a married woman, she cannot and blatantly refuses to ever be anything close to "tamed" and enjoys living her life as she wants to. Often a bit reckless, she likes to push her own limits and is competitive as part of that. She's often in love and enchanted with how quickly the world around her can change, but has grown towards more cynical tendencies with how the world is choosing to change - what mortals have done, how quickly they forget. In retaliation, she tends towards thinking that fear is the best method towards forcing mortals to remember her - she has, after all, been far better remembered as a dark sorceress than she ever has been as a huntress. There's also a level of practicality to her, to ensuring that she will survive no matter what anyone else throws at her - and that she'll take what measures are necessary to ensure that's the case. Despite this, she's still a goddess of spring, a goddess of the forests and creatures who need her help or are suffering are sure to get her mercy. The question is if that mercy is her tending to them or if it'll be a knife across their throat.

History: Mortals are overly fascinated with creation. With beginnings and ends, as though they were clearly cut, defined, and labeled - easily found and known, confined by their view of time as a linear force. Between the space of one breath and the next, as an arrow was released and before it struck home, as a plea, a mental cry that wasn't quite a prayer - before these, she did not exist. And then she did. Devana came into being no beginning, no birth. Only a need, only a hope, a tale told to family, a hope for guidance, a plea for food, for luck, for the arrow to strike - Devana was born of the belief, of the mortal need for something else to be there. And so magic responded, it created. It created a being that changed for each believer, who had memories for every story that the mortals told of her, and had none of them. She was shaped by belief, born from it, but as mutable as the mortals themselves for it. To her, all of the tales were true. And yet, none were - to her, she was born fully fledged and independent. And her own beliefs shaped her in turn, made her an individual. Made her real, because she believed she would be.

For Devana, nothing was simple. For a time, she wanted it to be - found joy in hunting, pride in it. Shared luck and tragedy, helped predator and prey, indulged worship and responded to it. Satisfaction in arrows that hit true, challenge in those that did not. Balance in her connections with nature, knowing the forests so well that her ankles would never turn on a root or rock, knowing every safe foothold and finding it without the slightest thought. Found balance and laughter, bright as the sun, with the push and pull of Veles - the connection to him that was as sure as the ground beneath her feet as the forest connected them both. Felt freedom in the thud of her mare's hooves against the ground, in her hair loose and free as few women's were - freedom that was challenged with something so simple as a contest, one that promised her hand to the victor.

Gods have little concept of time, little concept for linear timelines, but she remembered meeting him. She'd hunted him, only seeing the bear he wore, lumbering through the forest. Unnaturally large, marking it as all the more satisfying of prey for her. She tracked it, triumphant when she lined the shot and released the arrow - triumph that was quickly replaced with horror, as fur turned to skin, claws to fingers, bear to man. He smirked at her and something in her world shifted, changed to include him. Veles was a constant, a presence that had lurked at the edges of her and became real when she shook his hand for the first time and tried to ignore that he felt something like being complete. He was the other part of her as a forest god, his charm and flirtation annoying and strangely enthralling in one. He made her laugh, provided challenge, tricked and played and laughed in turn. In retrospect, Devana is fairly certain she had been falling in love with him since the start.

The contest was supposed to be something of a lark, one of archery. Devana felt no fear at the time - she was the goddess of hunting, of archery, after all. Who could possibly win against her? Many gods tried and failed all the same, hitting a wall against her own skill, much to her amusement. And then Perun stepped forward. He shot first, as challenger, and Devana stepped up next. Her arrow wobbled just enough, just a hair, and it wasn't until she saw Perun's triumphant smirk that she remembered -he was a god of weapons. Both their eyes went to Veles in the instant before Perun kissed her.

It should've been the end of it. Of the flirtation, the hunts together, the play between herself and Veles.

It wasn't.

For a time, it seemed like a trick. A challenge, another clever play by Veles - trying to needle his brother, no doubt, by flirting with his wife. For Devana, she enjoyed spending time enough with him not to object, instead challenging in return. Playing his game, enjoying that she could see that she was getting to him in return even as she knew she was falling. Devana had little loyalty to a husband of the skies, one who won her in name only. A good enough man, but not one she was in love with - perhaps it made sense, instead, to fall in love with the god whose forests she shared, whose beasts she hunted. But they were still constrained to secrecy. To shapechanging, to pretending to be mortals, to taking advantage of the night, of the moonlight that would hide what her mistress bade. Sneaking about in shadow, though, was never a meant to be a lasting arrangement. It robbed them of a real chance, robbed Perun of a wife who might love him. And Devana meant to end the secrecy, to end the empty marriage - to free herself and Perun of the hollowness binding. That much of the conversation was amiable enough. The mention of Veles, however, did not.

Presuming it was another of his brother's tricks, Perun went to confront Veles before Devana could find them and stop it from happening - and in their fight, the storm was born. Thunder and lightning and destruction the likes of which none of the gods had seen before. And Devana was far too late to stop the judgment  - to do anything but feel its consequences, as the constant presence of Veles was torn away. The emptiness burned in her chest, made her feel sick with the hollowness, the lack of him in their forests.

To her, it was no choice at all. To stay in the immortal plane, an eternal watcher, feeling only the hollow of where Veles should be while she watched him just beyond the mortal world, it all held no appeal. And she followed, made the choice that was no choice at all, and stepped into the mortal plane.

The pain of omnipotence being stripped away was almost more than she could bear. Things felt quiet, empty, in the forests. No connection to those walking through it, to the hunters surely stalking the wood, to predator or prey or roots or anything. It was only a murmur, drowned out by the sheer distance, the silence, that threatened to overwhelm. For a time, all Devana could do was curl into a ball and try not to scream just to hear something. Anything.

Eventually, a changeling intervened, introducing herself as Morgaine le Fey, and took Devana under her wing to relearn the world as a fallen goddess, learning in the court of King Arthur himself. Despite repeated brushes against a clergy that believed in a vicious, single god, Devana managed to keep surviving time and time again as the world marched on. She's been in and out of history for centuries now, tending towards associations with the gentry of multiple cultures now while trying to keep an eye and ear out for the gods she came to the mortal plane looking for.

Family: None.   Sexuality and Relationship Status: Attached, but polyamorous. She's not opposed to having other people along for a night or an hour or two, but Veles is her partner. And she will not allow something to come between that ever again. Other Ties: None yet. Wanted Connections: Perun, otherwise she's new to Nashville - though immortal  or long lived beings might find her awfully familiar. Can't have lived this long without being seen here and there, and Devana hasn't been too shy or prone to hiding. Likes: Human superstitions, urban legends, the internet, travelling, Netflix, hunting, advances in weaponry (modern compound bows, crossbows, and so on are endlessly fascinating and fun to her) Dislikes:  Poachers and poaching, careless hunting, fanaticism, dial-up internet Hobbies: Drawing, horseback riding, camping, travelling, magic Skills: Tracking, hunting, stealth, woodcraft, various survival skills and techniques Medical Conditions: None, perk of being a goddess. Current Financial Status: Well off, plenty of money from the various previous lives she's lived are accessible to her, if she wanted. Currently, she's between jobs and came to Nashville to look for a job, but can sustain herself through several lifetimes if she truly wished. To Devana, a job is mostly to ensure she's not bored. Places: None yet, beyond some ruins of her ancient shrines in Europe and Russia. Pets: None, but has a high affinity for horses especially

Known Magic: Elemental magic is her strongest, but Devana has dabbled here and there in magic. She's learned and forgotten more spells than most will ever know, but she's been around for long enough that her magic tends to be as wild as she is. Magical Items: She can summon her bow to her at any time, given a bit of time. Her bow is part of her powers and she will not run out of arrows so long as she needs them. If anyone were to take it from her or knock it from her hands, it would melt away into nothingness, as no other can use it.

Rumors: Most have forgotten her, as a goddess - published only in a book or two, widely disregarded and ignored. Choosing to leave the pantheon and being cast into time had its consequences, especially as she hadn’t done anything quite so memorable as create the storms themselves before leaving. 

Instead, she only comes up as a traveler. Traversing history and often coming up as a reoccurring face in several royal courts, salons, and so on. That or the rumors of a wild woman, a dark sorceress who lurks and exists in the forest as a fairy might - who had been granted the title of “le fey” and haunted history as only Morgaine might. Vengeful to those who wrong her or are careless with nature itself. Centuries have given Devana many difference faces and masks to wear, and she wears many of them well. 

Writing Sample:

It was easier, in dreams. A mix of memory and fantasy, hearing both of their laughter peeling out (that never happened, not so free - too easy to be heard, to be caught, even in their own elements) and running through the forests. Omnipotence meant that every sharp branch, every tree root, every rock was known and easily avoided. No shoes on her feet as they ran, faster here on human feet than her mare just as she could hear him giving chase on two legs instead of four. The chase was half the fun, but she wanted to be caught. To feel his arms around her, both of them tumbling to the ground and laughter turning breathless. Seeing his smile above her, touching and being touched (they had to be so careful, where was Perun, where was the fear? why wasn't she cautious, why wasn't there that tension?).

Devana slowed, waiting for the impact, the feel of him tackling her and the laughter. She couldn't hear him behind her anymore, couldn't tell where he had gone. The forest felt empty, his lack of presence just as striking, if not more so. It hurt, that ache deep in her chest, the fact she couldn't feel him. A missing piece in her mind and she stumbled, fell onto the forest floor. She'd lost it, the understanding of where she was - of what this world had become. Didn't recognize the rocks, the branches, the roots she'd fallen on. This was not her world - no longer her world, and it felt cold. Familiar and alien, as though the structure of her world had been knocked out from under her.

Lighting cracked across the sky, thunder giving chase and this time she had to interrupt, she had to stop them, stop this, this wasn't worth it she wasn't worth it she wasn't worth losing them both and being adrift in a sea of mortals and their Christian god - there was another crack, another crash of light and sound and Devana screamed at it in challenge, screamed at them.  

The scream was still raw and aching in her throat when she awoke, the storm starting to taper off into a lighter rain that pattered against the tent. She sighed, glad that she had decided to camp out instead of going to a hotel - it was always awkward to try and explain why she'd be screaming a 'mythological' god's name because of a dream.  

She saw him still, sometimes. In flashes, in glimpses. The familiar face in a crowd, the sound of his voice somewhere close by, a smile that is just enough like his that her memory fills in the gap. She missed him so much that it was an ache, constant and distracting. Something her mind tried to lessen by seeing bits of him everywhere. Which, of course, only made her miss him all the more when it turned out to not be him. Mortals were fragile, fleeting, a poor ghost of a substitute for someone like him.

His feast days had become far more quiet without his presence, his absence more heavy than the arrowhead she kept around her neck, that weighed on her. She held it absently as she tried to convince herself to wake up, to try getting up. Had to make an offering and a wish on his feast day, after all. Pay tribute. Devana smirked to herself, finally convincing herself to shuffle around the tent for clothes and boots to get up and out.

Sentimental, certainly, to be camped beneath a willow tree but every little bit counted if you asked her - perhaps, through all the tributes, he would somehow feel her too. She'd give anything to feel him, so why not put the effort in reverse? Maybe it could be a comfort.