†
His question furrows her brow, as if it takes some thought to find the right answer for it. But in the end all she does is shake her head. No, the simple gesture claims. Temblor is disinclined to believe that. She seems a bit trusting, maybe naive— perhaps unwilling to admit to the faults in others, even when there is evidence of it right in front of her nose.
Or perhaps he is too quick to see the worst in the world, being so aware of his own flaws, and reluctant to forgive the failings of others (since he cannot, will never, forgive the failings in himself).
'Okay,' Sonorae says, again speaking so softly that is it a strain to hear her. What silence had stretched over the tense group earlier has given way once more to the raucous chorus of the jungle, and he takes a small step toward her to avoid missing anything else under the conversations being fired back and forth overhead. Her hesitance near him is like a spike in the gut: it's well-deserved, but she doesn't know that, and to have her move with such control, as if the slightest misstep might send him into a rage, both offends Temblor and validates his opinion of himself. He is a monster, and she's right to see it.
Despite the doe-like wariness in her gaze (which his own eyes skate past, quickly, as if by only glancing he won't have to see how little she trusts him), Sonorae moves closer, close enough to touch. Temblor is mystified. She fears him, or at least feels hesitant near him, and yet, here she is. By his side, as if they are just two horses in the same herd about to take a walk through the jungle. He wonders who this Rougaru is to Sonorae— does she mince near him, too, or is it only Temblor that brings out such (warranted) misgiving?
He doesn't know what else to do but walk, and so he strides forward after only the slightest pause. They walk through the greenery in a silence that is anything but companionable. Temblor can think of nothing to say— every time a question or observation comes to him, it seems too inane to give voice to, and he makes multiple false starts by turning his head, or angling an ear more firmly, once even going so far as to open his mouth before closing it with nothing said.
Sonorae breaks the silence.
He debates ignoring her softly-spoken question, wondering if he can just pretend he didn't hear it. The ocean lies ahead, near enough to hear under the menagerie and winking at them through the jungle's trunks. He yearns to be knee-deep in the surf, as if that will free him from this awkward situation and cleanse him of the sins she levels at him with her stare.
"Yes," he replies. "And no."
He's been roaming these islands for over a year, but only this day has begun to establish himself. It would be his luck to claim a land with so much history, so many loose ends—
When they reach the edge of the trees, Temblor pauses within the shady border. Just beyond is the brilliant white beach, glaringly bright under the afternoon sun. He thought he'd been baptized on that swim barely an hour ago, freed from his past. Yet here stands a quiet accuser— does she know? he wonders. Does she somehow know?
He turns to Sonorae. He doesn't want to see her expression, at all, and yet— he can't not look at her, either. His eyes glance off hers, like sunlight tinseling the waves. He wants to both be rid of her and to keep her close so he never again forgets (as if something like that could ever be rinsed away; he feels the weight swinging still, lips crushed and one caught between his teeth, blood on his tongue pressed against that little crest, the wound long closed and healed but still sometimes he finds himself tonguing the front of his mouth, seeking a tangible scar to prod and press and wake the pain but the inner skin is smooth, unblemished).
"What is it you want, Sonorae?" he asks patiently. "To stay here? To follow him—" he points his nose back toward Annubis's wake "—or something else?"
Being near her hurts in such an extravagant way.
TEMBLOR
& swallows you whole
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