northling | INBOX

[He doesn't reach out, but through their bond, she feels him arrive. She reaches out, still mostly asleep, and wraps her clawed fingers around his arm as far as she can manage. His arms are so big now, powerful, and she is tiny and delicate. Even her second natural soul hasn't changed that, only covering more vulnerable areas with plating.]

[Despite that this has been their state for a while now, something about how long his arms are and how big his frame now is in comparison to hers makes him uncomfortable, as though his skin isn't his own... and yet, it's also familiar in a distant way, almost akin to the difference between himself and Purl back home.

He feels another ache, and he's not sure if it's his stomach, or his heart. Either way, he wraps his arms around Northly in return, burying his face in her hair. He shouldn't be here, he reminds himself; it's dangerous. All the promises and adoration in the world can't protect her from his own ravenous Souls.

Pom's breath hitches as he buries an emotion, trying to keep himself steady, his voice quiet.]

Sorry to wake you.

[Even as she snuggles into him, feathers fluffing over the neck of her nightie, she mumbles,] I am not awake.

[That gets a single, rueful laugh out of him, one mostly stuck in the back of his throat.]

So you say.

[He should let her sleep. He would, but he's sure she can tell he's anxious. She always knows somehow, feels it more keenly through their Imprint than he ever has.

Might as well come clean with it. She can probably feel he's less lean muscle these days, and more just plain lean.]

I've had some rough nights lately.

[She knows, has felt it. While he rarely appears in her ~~nest~~ bed in the middle of the night, she has sought him out when she sensed his panic, sent calm and warmth and her love through their bond as she settled on top of him, trying to ground him through his nightmares.

But... this must be important, so while her eyes remain shut, she sounds more awake than asleep in her few words when she replies,] You have.

I've been thinking what to do about it. What I should do. What I can do in the meantime.

[He remembers Northly's offer to go fishing, but it's not a permanent solution as far as he's concerned - not when he's always hungry, not when he's no longer sure he can keep it under control. He dares not bring up what he's considered, should the meat cocoon around Patho-Gen ever come down. She'd never forgive him.

But he'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her - if he was the one who did it.]

I don't know how you deal with having more than one Soul in you. How some people got three and four, and they're still themselves.

My second soul is easy. [It gave her her magic back.] And though my first remains a challenge... I have more understanding of it.

I think I may have some of your soul in me. [She points to one of her eyes, sliding it open, the ring of orange appearing to glow in the dark.] It is comfortable.

[Pom meets her gaze in the dark, the glow of his own eyes brighter than hers; seeing the fiery orange he's hated for so long in the eyes of someone he cares so much about only riles him further.]

You think that's what happens? That we lose some of ourselves the more of these things we got in us? What do we do when there's nothing of who we used to be left?

[She tries not to, but she's still sleepy and he is... so very, very himself, so she giggles.] Not your natural soul. [Silly.] Your soul. The one that you arrived with.

[He just buries his head back into her hair, reddening at her laughter. He doesn't know much about magic, or souls, or Natural Souls - just that it all unnerves him, and the thought of losing his identity to a monster within him even more so.]

Do you... think that happens? Can you see it the way you can others?

Yes! And they appear more similar than they once did. I think. It is difficult to say without record.

[She is not going to mention or confirm the drift towards their Natural Souls as well.] I enjoy being close to you.

[Probably best she keeps that to herself for now, given Pom's complete and utter uncertainty regarding the very idea of becoming more and more like his Souls.]

I know you do.

[Hunger continues to gnaw at his insides, but he pulls her closer.]

Maybe we can just stay like this for now? Until morning.

Yes. I would like that. [And she wiggles around, positioning him properly in the bundle of clothing and blankets she sleeps in with herself on top.

And... in the morning she will make him talk.]

Do not run away.

Hn.

[That's not a confirmation that he won't bail the moment the sun starts coming up.

And sure enough, he tries to slip out from under her when sunrise hits. To his credit, he is feeling better after being near an Imprint for several hours. Still hungry, but... better.]

[It's knowing him as well as she does that means she grabs at him with her claws as he tries to ease her off, sinking them into his clothing.] Do not run.

[Whoops. He pauses, lest those claws tear his shirt.]

It's more 'getting up' than 'running.'

Then I will accompany you while you [—she clears her throat from a sound that might have started with "r"—] get up. [The dreaded koala-bird, clinging to him with utmost ferocity.]

[Yeah, he's not getting out of this one. Sitting back down on the edge of the bed, he lets her cling.]

I don't think you should.

Tough.

[:>]

[His voice rumbles.]

You keep making light of this, and I don't like it.

[At least he's being honest, which is... an improvement.]

[She tilts her head, bird-like.] Make light of what? [Of him running away? Of him not explaining the danger he sees that makes him run? She needs more words to understand.]

Of—

[He shakes his head; she needs more words, and he's having trouble finding the right ones.]

Of me needing to leave. Of the things I've done. Of these two Souls in me, and of what I might do to you and not even realize because I'm so hungry I can't think straight. The fact I can just... come in here in the dead of the night and you don't seem to worry one bit.

[So 'everything,' maybe.]

I have no need to worry. You will not harm me. Even were you or your natural souls to try in earnest, my magic has returned. I could hold you back with little effort. [Even monster dogs are made of water.

But, there was something that he said there, something new...] What have you done previously, to think you may harm me?

I don't—

[He doesn't want to talk about it; he never wants to talk about it. He's dodged it time and time again with her, and it's only gotten worse. He should start somewhere. Make an attempt, if only for her.]

I haven't slept well. Just... having a lot of bad dreams. Nightmares.

[He'll feel a bubble of hope, that at last he's letting her in, flow through their bond.]

Do you know their source?

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