[Ah, the empathy bond. At first, Callisto just stares hard at Lexa's outstretched hand - but then, suddenly, she goes for it, darting out her own and landing her fingers on the back of Lexa's wrist.
Her own rage and grief aren't out in full force at the moment, but they're there all the same, an ever-present undercurrent ready to overtake and overwhelm at the slightest provocation. But Lexa's muted wisps of emotion feel shockingly familiar, and the slivers of surprise and curiosity she feels have the same quality to them - flimsy, hollow, and fleeting.]
Yes.
[She says quietly, more to herself than anything.]
It's like that.
[But it's not that that makes her withdraw, in the end. She feels something close to affinity for the coldness, and she could easily have stood there indefinitely, soaking it in. But then there's that warmth that exists alongside it, shining bright and strong and whole.
no subject
Her own rage and grief aren't out in full force at the moment, but they're there all the same, an ever-present undercurrent ready to overtake and overwhelm at the slightest provocation. But Lexa's muted wisps of emotion feel shockingly familiar, and the slivers of surprise and curiosity she feels have the same quality to them - flimsy, hollow, and fleeting.]
Yes.
[She says quietly, more to herself than anything.]
It's like that.
[But it's not that that makes her withdraw, in the end. She feels something close to affinity for the coldness, and she could easily have stood there indefinitely, soaking it in. But then there's that warmth that exists alongside it, shining bright and strong and whole.
She jerks her hand back as if she's been burned.]