Jorah flinched, looking back down at the rabbit in a quick motion like his eyes were burned by her words. He knew grief all too well. He squeezed the rabbit remembering Elena's kind smile, and the way every muscle in her face was twisted into pain when she was in labor with the twins. He took a deep breath to try an push away the thoughts, started counting to himself, but once the memories started replaying themselves, the whirlpool of regrets cascaded all on their own. He shouldn't have asked for more children. He shouldn't have married her. He shouldn't have loved any one when they can just be ripped away. He was selfish to drag anyone into his life like he did to her. Tears willed away from his cheeks dripped down his throat instead.
Defeated, he got up to find a twig to stick through the lean rabbit, and calm down alone. He'd always avoided thinking of Elena, always put aside the memories, but sometimes moments like these would cause her to resurface and his mind would get lost in a melancholy haze. He considered Rylee's grief, and he wondered what following her path would have done for him. Maybe letting the blood decide if he should have kept living or not would have helped him move on? He didn't have that freedom, not with Julien, Jacqueline, and Tomas needing him. Taking another deep, shaky breath, he pulled himself together and came back to the fire, but he wasn't the same. A lump in his throat shifted his voice into a froggy rasp, and his heart was a slab of iron. He looked unsatisfied at the Warden Ivers.
He cleared his throat. [color=orange]"What sort of man was he?"[/color] he asked, barely holding back the beg for a conversation that might break him away from his thoughts. He expected her to share a beautiful, happy, memory that might roll Jorah away from the edge.
Defeated, he got up to find a twig to stick through the lean rabbit, and calm down alone. He'd always avoided thinking of Elena, always put aside the memories, but sometimes moments like these would cause her to resurface and his mind would get lost in a melancholy haze. He considered Rylee's grief, and he wondered what following her path would have done for him. Maybe letting the blood decide if he should have kept living or not would have helped him move on? He didn't have that freedom, not with Julien, Jacqueline, and Tomas needing him. Taking another deep, shaky breath, he pulled himself together and came back to the fire, but he wasn't the same. A lump in his throat shifted his voice into a froggy rasp, and his heart was a slab of iron. He looked unsatisfied at the Warden Ivers.
He cleared his throat. [color=orange]"What sort of man was he?"[/color] he asked, barely holding back the beg for a conversation that might break him away from his thoughts. He expected her to share a beautiful, happy, memory that might roll Jorah away from the edge.
11-08-2023, 04:37 PM
