[Something crawled up Ianthe's throat like vermin that had chewed into her gut and was desperately ripping and tearing up her esophagus in search of freedom. She realized at the last second that it was a sob threatening to escape and managed to bite its head off before that first breath of air. And though no sound beyond a weird stuttered intake of breath was heard, Gilia would keenly feel the swallowed expression with how she was being held. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, and Ianthe managed to give herself hiccups stifling herself for a couple embarrassing seconds before she told her diaphragm to cut the shit out.
There was so much in Gilia's words, her continual communion with the Sea-Father, that the tears slipped free, slipping down Ianthe's cheeks. To be named as she was made her chest tighten, but that prayer, beseeching safe passage for her idiot beloved twin sister... she thought she was going to explode. Or implode. Her chest felt like it was being squeezed and squeezed and no breath would come to her. She felt burning as the two souls inside rubbed viciously against each other though where one ended and the the other began, she didn't know.
This prayer wouldn't help Corona. She knew it was pointless, but Gilia believed so much, had such faith, that she wasted a part if that. It was so unexpected that it soothed her cavalier soul in ways that bled into the necromancer, for if there was one thing the two would always agree on, it was the importance of Coronabeth.
Ianthe closed her eyes, tightened her arms around Gilia, and buried her face in her.]
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There was so much in Gilia's words, her continual communion with the Sea-Father, that the tears slipped free, slipping down Ianthe's cheeks. To be named as she was made her chest tighten, but that prayer, beseeching safe passage for her idiot beloved twin sister... she thought she was going to explode. Or implode. Her chest felt like it was being squeezed and squeezed and no breath would come to her. She felt burning as the two souls inside rubbed viciously against each other though where one ended and the the other began, she didn't know.
This prayer wouldn't help Corona. She knew it was pointless, but Gilia believed so much, had such faith, that she wasted a part if that. It was so unexpected that it soothed her cavalier soul in ways that bled into the necromancer, for if there was one thing the two would always agree on, it was the importance of Coronabeth.
Ianthe closed her eyes, tightened her arms around Gilia, and buried her face in her.]
Thank you.