The elder Fae woman grinned, already enthralled by Seon's devotion to Arenwyn. "Indeed, it is quite upsetting. I know we will be without his brooding for quite some time, and Echa will be without her playmate, but…" She drummed her nails along her knee, thinking. Simone cleared his throat and stared at his wife, the pointed gaze meaningful but only decipherable by Venera. "Ah, of course." She fluttered around for a moment, searching for something, then pulled out a parchment of paper and handed it to Seon. Scrawled across it was a messy and scratchy map, place names illegible and drawings barely more than scribbles—she had done her best while rushing to get it down.
"Head to the mountains, the path beginning at the River of Hinae, where Arenwyn's destiny wove with yours." She tipped her head, lime eyes otherworldly in a way as they stared at Seon and surveyed him. "You know of the place I speak of, yes?" She didn't explain how she knew where to look, or how she knew what God—or rather, Goddess—waited within those mountains. "If not," Venera gestured to the parchment, "Aren should be able to direct you using that."
Looking down upon the map, Seon shifted it this way and that to try and decipher anything legible. Deciding he was at a loss, he looked up once more for help.
"I will ask him for help. Thank you." He sighed slowly, re-folding the map neatly in squares, focusing on flattening out the creases. "Goddess you say. In the mountains? Have you been up there? There are few Fae who have survived the trek. I am afraid for Wyn." Rumor had it that only Gods and their selected subjects were allowed up the mountain. The pure force of such a secret civilization and their magical protection protected them from outsiders. The thick, dense trees called for a challenging maze for those who could manage the altitude, and then… there were no other recounts of what happened next. Travelers who didn't dare go all the way, looking for scraps of evidence of those lost Fae. They always found their things, journals abandoned, and even a few pieces of clothes left behind. These thoughts sent a fearful shiver down his spine– not for himself, but for Wyn, who was a weaker mortal at the end of the day. The grip of the angry, heaving forest was a challenge not fit for anyone.
"Once." Venera leaned back in her chair and glanced at her husband, who only let a trickle of worry into his features. She shook her head and focused on Seon. "I have made the journey once. Let me tell you this, to ease your worries." Her hand reached over and rested on the God's knee, patting him once. "Trust me, darling. Aren is fully capable of handling himself, and is even more protected by having you at his side. I would not be trusting him to go on this journey if I wasn't confident he will be okay." Family secrets she intended to keep for now lined the silver of her surety. Wyn knew of their heritage, knew of the stories passed down the generations. If he felt he trusted Seon enough to tell his companion, then she would allow him the chance to do so on his own.
She squeezed Seon's knee and smiled, lips crooked and resembling that of her son's own crooked smiles. "I understand the rumors, and your worries. He will be okay." Her smile widened. "You care a lot about him. I appreciate that. It's good to know he'll have your protection over him."
Seon's hands curled up into themselves, holding that piece of paper like it was his lifeline, inhaling shakily. As he thought of those rumors, the rumors of the crashing weight of magic, squeezing on the heart, squishing the brain, popping limbs and… Seon didn't truly think he had a fear of suffocation and pain until right now. The trek up that mountain would be his personal punishment, the immediate, horrible, final blow of embarrassment. The first step, but it could very well be the last. Suddenly, Seon could not breathe. His lungs lost their will to inhale, the heart that was previously gripped by joy and euphoria now skipping uncomfortably against his ribs, pushing on itself as he paralyzed himself with horror.
It was nice to know that Wyn would be okay, but down to the core of his very being, Seon did not want to go up that mountain. He was grasping at straws to continue being worried, to allow his fear, irrational and angry at himself because of it. He gripped his clothes, the soft silk, and the paper, in a vain attempt to hide his fear.
Venera blinked, realizing Seon spiraling down into a panic. She opened her mouth to say something, to try and calm the God, but something behind him stopped her from saying anything. Instead, she withdrew from Seon and let the events unfold.
Delicate hands slipped over the God's face, heels of palms tracing the lines of his jaw before plummeting. Tips of fingers danced down Seon's neck and circled to their collarbones, then crossed one another until a body was leaning into their back, and arms were encircling Seon in a backwards hug. Wyn rested his chin on Seon's shoulder, nosing his way into the crook of his neck. "You're okay, love. It's okay," he whispered. He had no idea what happened or what Seon was panicking over, but he knew the moment he walked outside that something was wrong. Seon was hurting, and Wyn wanted to help in any way he could. "I'm here." He burrowed closer, holding Seon close. "I'm here."
Soft hands came to his rescue, reminding him that his face was intact. Palms traced wet cheeks, and a slow hug. Embraced by a sweet familiarity of flowers, earthly scents and thick curly hair. Whispered words brought back the unconscious knowledge of breathing, that respite of oxygen fueling his lungs and straightening out his brain with cold air and calming hormones coming from those affectionate whispers and hugs. Seon turned his head into Wyn's arms and head, pushing into his neck and shoulders, creating a triangle of safety. His warm breath and shivery tears mixed with a cold sweat puddled up on Wyn's neck. It was okay at some point. Wyn was here, and there was no reason to panic right now. They had an adventure together ahead, despite that deathly clutch of panic settling in Seon's heart. Wym would be there to make it a little more bearable.
Wyn hugged Seon to his chest and into his neck, refusing to let go of the God until he knew for sure that he was okay. But for now, he held on tight and murmured repeated reassurances and comforts. Every now and again, he'd press a soft and lingering kiss to Seon's shoulder or neck, always right after a promise that he was okay and safe. His parents watched from the side, exchanging knowing glances. He knew what they were thinking. It was more clear now that the two of them were more than just friends and travel companions. They'd recognize his instinct to act on Seon's distress, despite not having the slightest idea of what happened to cause it. His father often rushed to his mother's side whenever the littlest thing upset her. That's what he had done right here, and his constant smothering only solidified the more intimate turn their relationship had taken. Not that it had been much of a secret before, with them practically cuddling earlier.
Without moving their head, Seon wordlessly lifted the map Vernera made for them, entwining their fingers and curling Wyn's fingers around the parchment map. He had calmed down considerably in the few moments Wyn stood there with him, but Seon still found it right to close his eyes in the warmth of Wyn's neck, hiding from an embarrassing conversation with Wyn's parents. He'd be emerging from his solace tear-streaked, still slightly shaken, and with the conveyed secret of their ever blooming relationship with Wyn. Seon couldn't decide what was more embarrassing about that in this headspace, so instead worried about calming down first, still gripping Wyn's fingers against his slower beating heart.
He knew as well this wouldn't be the last time Wyn would witness such an attack. Nightmares would continue to plague his sleep outside of this novel sleeping place, reminders of that cold empty feeling sending a shiver down his spine. For now, the only acceptable thing to do was really to suck it up.
Pulling his face away delicately, wiping his eyes with delicate fingers and making sure to rub the wet spot off with his sleeve, he inhaled and exhaled deeply, shaking his head as if telling himself to get a grip.
Wyn took the map, but didn't abandon his original quest. Instead, he split his attention between the two. Flipping open the map while keeping his face pressed against Seon, as well as keeping it mostly out of view of the God, he darted his gaze around the scribbles and horrific handwriting. His mother may have her beauty and radiant authority, but she sure lacked penmanship. Wyn recognized what she was trying to point them towards, thankfully, so he folded the parchment and tucked it away in the waistband of his pants, then went back to completely holding Seon.
He didn't move away just yet, even when Seon seemed to be feeling a little better—at least, better enough to sit up and start wiping away the tears. Wyn wanted to make sure he was okay. Them putting on a facade wouldn't rid them of his comfort. Not until he was convinced. Venera caught his eye and tilted her head, asking a silent question. He stared back, confused, then nodded when she gestured to the two of them. Not entirely the truth, because he wasn't completely sure if they were together or simply people who have kissed a total of three times within a few minutes. In any case, he and Seon would be leaving soon, so he didn't see it all that prudent to discuss his relationship with them to his parents. If they tried to subject him to the safe sex conversation, he'd declare they needed to leave for the journey ahead—he really hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Seon sighed, grabbing Wyn's hands for his own when he recovered, half-closing his eyes as he faced outwards, the cold night air refreshing after his humid moment with Wyn's neck. It was silent, strained around the upset (still somewhat panicked) God, and he leaned his weight back against Wyn, letting it truly be held. It was exhausting even trying to consider opening his eyes to a world of complicated philosophies, muddled emotions, and conversations bound to trip one up in his sense of belief. Had he been able to save the Gods from the comfort of this chair, from the safety of Wyn's embrace, Seon would do it in a heartbeat.
Unfortunately, that was the hard part of adventuring, wasn't it?
"I think we should get going. Thank you for the map," Seon rumbled slowly, getting his wits about him and rising from the chair. He moved so that he didn't knock Wyn off, and instead firmly took his hands once they fell from his shoulders and chest. "It is best if we leave before the sun rises. If we are not somewhat on the banks of the river by moonfall, we will not make it back here in such a timely fashion."
Wyn eyed Seon when he leaned back into his body, gauging his emotions and thoughts. He wasn't too good at it, and that frustrated him, but he still tried. Here and there, he'd lean down and kiss the top of Seon's head, his own thoughts racing. What had caused this breakdown? What could he do to better help Seon? What could he do to lessen the chances of triggering another one? There was so much he didn't know, and he really wished that weren't the case, but unfortunately he couldn't do anything about it without being a nosy arse.
"Of course," Venera chirped, perhaps a little too cheerful. Her eyes locked onto her son, demanding he take care of the God on the road ahead. The look he shot her said he didn't need parental orders to take care of his Seon. She stood and squeezed Wyn in a bone-crushing hug, then Simone took his turn. "We'll miss you both, and wish you all the luck in the world." She even hugged Seon, though her grip was loose and brief, aware that the God was still shaken. Simone refrained from the gesture, though he did nod and smile warmheartedly—a man of few words, as always. Wyn, once free, latched onto Seon's arm and pressed his cheek into their shoulder, still worried but not wanting to smother them anymore in front of his parents.
"We should pack while they go," he murmured, low enough that his parents couldn't hear. "Get some things we need so we don't have to buy more than necessary."
Seon hardly returned the hug he received, not much in the mood to be touched. He nodded his head back, glancing over at the door as Wyn spoke his thoughts.
"That would be smart." Seon pulled him along, back inside, shutting the door behind him. Once out of earshot and going up the steps, Seon spoke again: "I do not have personal items. I was not given anything to travel with, as I do not depend on food and water as normally and daily as you Fae do. I can choose to eat of course, but I need not to." Seon paused at the top of the steps, looking to Wyn. "I trust you to pack light but essential. We only need the basic of the basic, as we shouldn't be weighed down while traveling." Seon shivered wordlessly, an obvious sigh leaving him. "I think it would be smart if we brought weapons, but I can perform a handful of protective spells. I know several housekeeping and cooking spells, so we need not… bring that." He nodded to Wyn's room, withdrawing into himself. "I'll stay out here. Please hurry and make yourself a pack."
Wyn followed Seon into the house and up the stairs, and turned to face them when they stopped. Something was off with the God, and it killed him that he didn't know what was wrong or how to help. So when he was practically dismissed, he didn't take it personally. Wyn opened his mouth to say something, closed it, reached a hand out with the intention of kissing Seon's cheek, then dropped it and nodded without carrying it out. "I'll be quick," he whispered, then turned and headed into his room.
Rushing around his room, he changed his clothes to something more apt for traveling than his pajamas. Wyn pulled on his black leather pants, the material well-worn and flexible but practically new-looking still. Next was a button-up blouse, the white material clean and actually new. Over it was a leather corset-type accessory that wrapped around his waist and laced at his back. He pulled up a pair of muddy brown travel boots that nearly went up to his knees, also laced. Next was the long velvet cloak, the hood far too large for his head but tended to work wonderfully to hide his face when pulled up. He grabbed some leather bracers and strapped them onto his arms, then moved towards a chest pushed against the wall of his room. Inside was a bag already packed with essentials, including the "essential" jewelry that Wyn liked to wear in a small hidden compartment, along with bags of coin. Next to the bag, which he pulled out, were weapons. He grabbed two daggers and slid them into their hidden sheaths on the top of his bracers, an assortment of throwing knives that went into the corset, and a bow with a covered quiver of arrows. The bow was slung over his shoulder, beneath the cloak, and the quiver strapped to a set of clips on the corset. And all that was left…
Wyn gently lifted the sword left in the chest, sliding it partially out of the sheath. He had never brought this weapon along with him, thinking it unnecessary. A gift from his ancestor, passed down the generations. Even throughout the years, it never dulled, never lost its delicate etchings of interpreted beauty along the blade. A perfect curve, perfect balance, and perfect grip. After a moment of hesitation, he slid it back into its sheath and strapped it to his hip. This time, it just might be needed.
Now ready, Wyn turned on his heel and headed back to Seon. This was it.
Seon stood and swayed with himself, hugging his arms close to his body, eyes half-closed. As bumps and shuffles from Wyn hastily getting ready alerted Seon of being somewhat alone for the last time in a while. He leaned up against the wall, cold against him. The darkness dwelling and gripping him did not let go as he breathed and focused on not thinking about it, the anxiety omnipresent despite his quiet moment.
Seon leaned off the wall, rubbing his face before opening his eyes to greet himself with the sight of Wyn. His eyes flirted over the corset and quiver of bows, nodding a little.
"You took less time than I expected. Do you want to eat before we leave? I am okay to go now, but I understand that neither of us have eaten or prepared such food. I have a couple means of hunting if you are too restless to eat now." Looking at Seon standing there looking quite tired and dilapidated from his breakdown, there was hardly a thing that could have equaled to a weapon. Nothing hanging off of the soft clothes he wore, his antlers weren't quite sharp enough to spear something, and his scrawnier form wasn't all that impressive.
Wyn shook his head while tying up his hair, careful to not disturb the braids put there by Seon. "No, I have some preserved jerky I can eat on the way." He surveyed Seon, head tilted. Wyn had to remind himself that Seon was a God, and didn't need to be as prepared as him. It didn't stop him from wishing they had at least something. Something was better than being left with nothing. He'd be viewed as defenseless, an easy picking. But again, Wyn backed off.
"Míría has been informed. I told her to seek out Phorae for company and to look after the house while I'm gone. Obviously my parents know now and will take care of anything else she doesn't get to. All my essentials are packed." He wiggled the bag in hand. "Coin, preserved food, a water bag, clothing, so on. Weapons." The only visible weapons being his bow and sheathed sword. "We should be set to leave now." He wanted to, so badly, reach out and hold Seon, but he had a feeling he wouldn't be welcomed. Besides, they needed to go, and he'd only slow them down by clinging to the God.
Easy picking for now, at least. From that stark contrast of the pair, it would be hard to guess who was the God if not for Seon's strange appearance. He met Wyn's eyes steadily, as though searching for a morsel of his speech that suggested a lie or nervousness. When he didn't find any, he nodded and straightened out in posture, shaking light hair out of his face.
Because of his set expression, usually juvious and bright, he looked most like his father in this moment. The long, hooked nose, with a broader jaw flexing with unspoken thought, and the only thing relatively lightening up his appearance was the floaty, long hair that fluttered and moved with its own intention.
"Good. Well, let us go then." He paused for a few seconds, then started moving down the steps, still unconsciously hugging himself, deep in his own thoughts.
He didn't idle much longer after reaching downstairs. He slid out the door, waving one last good bye to Wyn's parents with his feet determinedly on the path towards the river behind the churches, desperate to feel that familiar riverbed once more.
Uneasy but not going to argue with the God, Wyn followed, bidding goodbye to his plants and asking them to protect his house. Leaves rustled and petals waved. He'd be gone far longer than his past travels, that he knew for certain, but at least he had the experience of it to keep his head on straight and not flounder in the face of obstacles. His parents knew that, so they only grasped his hand for a second in a final farewell, and he slipped away with Seon to begin their journey.
Wyn trailed slightly behind Seon as they walked, mind switching gears. He'd likely need to hunt at some point, as his jerky and other magically preserved foods would only last them for so long. He had flints for starting fires, and had practiced using his knives to create the sparks. Of course, the hidden coin in the chance of theft. Wyn brushed his fingers over the sheath holding his sword, hoping he wouldn't need to use it—but chances were, he would. At the very least, if he were challenged and need a God's favor outside of Seon, he had it as an indisputable token. Clothing and tailoring equipment. Blankets.
In silence, he mentally went through the list, checking and double-checking. Something to fill the silence, but also put his mind at ease during his little ritual while setting off for a journey.
Seon walked in front of Wyn, laying down a path of where to set their feet. They passed the walls of the slowly populating as the night grew older, and the clerics who lived and slept there. Seon trudged in the faceless forest, his mind stuck on where is feet will bring him. He went over familiar roots, skipped the rocks jutting up, taking the leeway directly to the river itself.
A few minutes, perhaps close to half an hour of walking in silence in their own thoughts, they arrived next to the quick river. Because of the swollen moon these last few days, pushing on the banks and the water hushing and gushing, splatters of water jumping up. Kind of like a few days ago, where Wyn witnessed the same ferocity of the water when introduced to Seon again.
The God idled near the river, slipping his delicate feet out of his boots and onto the grassy space below. He didn't stop there– he stepped down with delicate precision, balancing on rocks, traversing it so he didn't slip or break his ankle. Wind picked up his hair and clothes, sweeping them the opposite way of the mountain. Biting cold air, harsh on the delicate faces of the Fae, angry mountain air. Seon said nothing, instead stood in the middle of the knee-high river, not allowing the water to push him along.
Watching Seon did nothing to answer his confusion. He had no idea what Seon was doing or thinking as he entered the river, and wasn't particularly fond of the idea of joining them for a midnight bath. So he leaned against the nearest tree, arms crossed over his chest, and watched them stand in the water. For half a second, his mind tricked him into thinking that Seon would start bathing, and he covered his mouth and nose to rub at the instant blush. "I do hope you're not here to brood," he said, trying to hide his flushed complexion. "Because as much as I'm happy with letting you do your thing… whatever this is… I'd recommend brooding while on the move. Y'know. Practicality." His nerves were getting the best of him, leading to nonsensical babbling, so he shut his mouth and shifted his weight to his other leg, itching his calf with his opposite heel. On the road with Seon. What sort of life would that bring? He still didn't know where their relationship stood, so he refrained from assuming too much. How often would they make camp? Would Seon prefer that over stopping at an inn? Wyn usually preferred sleeping in a bed, but he didn't mind the earthen floor. His eyes lingered on the God's clothing. They'd have to change at some point. Wyn doubted Gods were exempt from getting dirty. Smelling, perhaps, but dirt? That had to be universal, and Wyn refused to travel with an unkempt companion that didn't change clothing for something clean.
Water crept up the legs of Seon's pants, able to be seen as a dark line that slowly inched its way along the curve of the God's legs. Surprisingly, Wyn was ignored, but that could have been blamed on the nature of his comments. He hugged his arms close to himself again, inhaling deeply and sucking in that air, fresh and harsh against the lungs that previously had such acrid, dirty air. Indeed, it felt nice to just zone everything else out and listen to the hush of the river.
To an outsider, Seon was blatantly ignoring Wyn at this point. His eyes were closed, back turned on the Fae, swaying with himself in his arms as his hair swished behind him. Who needed to worry when such beautiful things like rivers and this moontouched scenery laid around the God. It was like a cold drink on a sunny day, dissipating the sweat and leaving a happier Seon behind. There was no such thing of practicality when it came to his own mental health. A simple principle, in Seon's mind. Besides… they desperately needed this.
Wyn tipped his head to the side, watching Seon more closely. His curiosity got the better of his worry, and he started paying more attention after being ignored. If the God were actually being melodramatic, they'd give him a response. But there were no words, muted or joking, and that told him to pay attention.
Seon seemed to be deep in thought and incredibly withdrawn into himself. Meditating? Maybe this was Seon's way of calming down from whatever had spooked them from before. Wyn didn't want to inturrupt anymore, if he had even been heard, so he slid down to the ground against the tree and pulled the hood over his head, keeping himself curled up in his cloak and out of Seon's way. To keep himself busy, he pulled out his daggers one by one to make sure they were sharp, carefully running his fingers over the edge of each blade. Every once and a while, he'd glance up to check on Seon. I hope you're okay, he silently prayed, and I hope I can someday help you be okay.
Seon's eyes flicked open suddenly, shivering like an icicle pierced through his entire body, flitting around, alert and awake, eyes trained into Wyn's mostly hidden body.
"Did you say something just now?" Wyn's voice had run clear in his ears, surprising his completely focused brain. The voice had startled him of course, but the fact that it was Wyn's voice made it still somewhat soothing, most likely the best thing to awaken him from his slumber. His hand stroked one of his long ears idly, and he climbed from the river, but still sat by her side, looking down at the water. Seon didn't tuck his legs into himself as desired, just half-closing his eyes as if in a doze. He sat somewhat angled towards Wyn, so his long nose and deep eye sockets visible in the bright moon. He somehow seemed to have aged hundreds of years under the ghostly light, silvery on his light blue skin and shimmery, despite his more solemn expression.
Seon's voice startled Wyn. A quick and unfortunate flinch left him swearing swiftly and quietly. Little beads of blood rose up from the pad of his fingers and his palm, double and clean cuts stretched across his hand. Not wanting to worry the God, or leave them unanswered, Wyn hid the wound in the folds of his cloak as he stood. "I–? No?" He walked over to the river, cautious of the harsh waters, and stopped just before the God and sat down. Yellow peeked out from beneath his hood, confused. To see Seon better, Wyn used his good hand to pull back the hood, revealing furrowed brows. Now, he could make out the little touches of detail the moon highlighted on their face, as well as the oddly different hue of their eyes. Almost on instinct, he reached out to brush his knuckles over Seon's wrist—again, with his good hand—just to provide that physical presence. "I didn't say anything. What did you hear?"
Seon turned his head as Wyn joined him the shufflings of the grass and the clatter of rocks dropping bringing his eyes up to Wyn's face. The hand closest dropped and allowed Wyn to touch it, the farthest rubbing his ear still, as if there was an itch that wouldn't go away. He looped their fingers, the stalks of grass around their joined hands tickling and teasing their delicate skin.
"I heard you say… I hope you're okay. I hope I can some day help you be okay." Seon paused for a moment. "You are much more worried about me than others have been before. I'm honored to have such a beautiful person such as yourself as my lover." His eyes closed again, heaving a bit sigh. "I'm not used to hearing voices like that when meditating. I think that can only truly be broken by a devout follower's prayer. Seeing as you are my only follower… It would make sense that it was you." Seon laughed softly, leaning against Wyn a little. "I suppose we should get going soon. I just could not resist it." His last few words were weighed down with reluctancy, an obvious upset tone about his words. "But it is of no concern."
Once again, cheeks bloomed rose, and Wyn rested his forehead against Seon's shoulder while staring at their joined hands. "Ah. That." No, he hadn't spoken. But he had thought it. Prayed for it. He hadn't realized Seon would actually hear it, and the knowledge that he had sent him into a spiral. Wyn wrapped his other hand around his stomach, palm to body, and cuddled close to the God. 'Others.' He didn't want to think about the implications of that meaning, as well as the suggestion that his simple worry for Seon went above the set standard of care for the God. Wyn bumped his nose against Seon's shoulder, recognizing the tone, and smiled slightly. "It is of concern to me. You're allowed to stay here for as long as you need, love. I'm not stopping you." A quick and simple kiss to the side of their head. "You heard me. I want you to be okay, and if being here helps, then please, don't be in a rush for the sake of time." He didn't want to be that partner that valued punctuality and being on a set schedule over his partner's mental and physical well-being. Wyn wanted to help, and if him encouraging Seon to take just a few extra minutes did that, then he'd gladly sit and wait.
Seon glanced around for a couple seconds, but was brought back to looking at Wyn from the kiss to his head. A little smile crossed over his features and he leaned against Wyn some more, relaxing his tensed muscles and bumping their heads together, his antlers scratching Wyn in the slightest bit.
"You're right. It would be good for me to take a breather– I know Fae and other Gods are in quite the hurry. Especially in regards to such an important mission we have on our shoulders." Seon stole a glance up the river, which was visible as far as the eye could see. But Seon knew deep in his heart where it lead. It was quite unfortunate to see such a beautiful cut of land turn into a mountainous hellscape. If the entire journey was next to her, it would have been hard still, but soothing with the blood of the land next to them.
Seon zoned out again, looking down into the river and mulling over his thoughts. They would have to break away from the river; when she ended, or when their path simply diverged… It would be unfortunate indeed.
"You should get in with me," Seon suggested softly, pointing down to the smoothly running water. "You should feel for yourself how the tides of the earth move the soul and cleanse the nasty energy from your soul."
Wyn watched Seon as they zoned in and out, a tiny, slightly sad smile dancing across his features anytime he caught Seon getting lost into his thoughts. Something told him that they weren't thinking anything philosophical or quietly analyzing the littlest thing he saw, but their pensive expression highlighted by the moonlight and water's reflection made them terribly attractive—and Wyn had a front-row viewing. Did it make him just a little guilty for admiring a probably upset Seon? Most definitely, and it sent him into an inner turmoil. Did I deserve to stare?
He didn't need to worry much, though, as that smile disappeared the minute the God suggested he get into the water. Somehow he shifted from awestruck to radiating an air of offence, all with out blatantly changing his expression. "I'm quite acquainted with the tide's temper, and how easily it is for them to move me off my feet."
Seon paused, staring at Wyn for a few moments, observing that indignant expression. Seon said nothing in response, simply tilted his head like a dog with those grey eyes gentle but somehow… Emotionless. They did not sparkle with that same gait that they usually did, just sat flat in the whites of his eyes.
"You do not have to if you do not want to. This river may look mighty, but she is quite the gentle river. She has worn her rocks and banks down over the span of thousands of years Dïonga has carefully peeled the layers of dirt away for the blood of this forest. For the life force of several Gods and Goddesses. This river knows nothing but love and worship. We might as well return it." Seon bobbed his feet just above the water, the bank barely too high for him to reach. "She will be gentle and kind, I know it. I have lived and cried and rejoiced near her side, and she offered her quiet solace in response. All I could ask of her. When no one else would." Seon shifted, still holding Wyn's hand, and picked his way towards the quiet, clear water. "Please, allow me to guide you. You may hold on if you so please."
Wyn didn't know what to say to that. His main concern lied in his past experiences with being thrashed around by ocean waves while supposedly safe on a ship, or being caught in a current while crossing a river and ending up a mile away from where he wanted to be. He and the very respectable element did not get along in the slightest, which he understood and practiced caution when needed. But this river seemed to sing a song of Seon's comfort and safety, and his mind's clarity. In his bid for respect and personal safety, Wyn would be disrespecting that relationship by refusing the God's request.
So he let himself be pulled along, neither hesitant nor eager. "Do not let go," was all he warned, and kept close to Seon's body while eyeing every footstep he allowed towards the river. His injured hand, now stinging something fierce, stayed tucked around his waist, though he kept wanting to hold it out for balance. Seon couldn't know of the injury. He would fuss, and Wyn wasn't the one in need of fussing.
Seon reached out to grab the other hand held aloft away from him, drawing him into the middle of the stream. The water diverged from around their legs, making small forks with diagonal lines connecting the lines of continuous water washing around their legs. Seon held on to Wyn, but shortly after pausing, moved one of his hands back to reveal small spots of blood dancing along his thick skin.
"Are you bleeding, Wyn?" Seon asked, gently grabbing the wrist of the hand he was holding, it to try and identify what was going on. Then he saw the beads of thick velvety blood, bringing it closer to his face. "Oh, goodness. You cut yourself. That's no good." And not without a single other second of thought, stuck the tip of the finger into his mouth. A couple laps of Seon's tongue, and once he released the finger from the clutches of his warm cheeks, the cut was completely gone. Seon analyzed the rest of the hand, not taking long to find that cut on his palm as well. With no sense of hesitation whatsoever, he ran his tongue along the length of the cut, and a warm sensation that was masked by first being in his mouth seized the muscles of Wyn's hand for a few brief moments. Seon rubbed his thumbs along the injuries, pushing on them and finding no more blood, and just soft lines of pink.
