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The tears flowed freely down Arrakis's face, mingling with fresh blood and crusted earth, then dropping in single file to further stain his sweaty tunic or fall to the ground. Sobs escaped his throat hoarsely between jagged breaths, echoing uncertainty and woe. The whispers that dashed through his mind would not leave him be. The cries, the mutters, the haunting voices and quick, flashing visions that he knew then with significant certainty would be the death of him. His feet carried him to the woods, where he quietly stumbled into a familiar, welcoming bed of leaves. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking severely to see clearly again through tears and blood and dirt. His whole body shuddered. With one hard swallow he forced himself to lay down, hugging his cloak close to his shoulders. Still breathing hard, he eyed the dark, starry sky. A dry mouth made it difficult to curse providence. He closed his eyes and curled his knees to his chest, trying to find sanctuary with the darkness. A cold, foreboding gust of wind rustled the leaves and tossed his dark brown locks. His jaw clenched tight, and his hand formed into a fist. Something was happening. He had to be there. It didn't matter if he died. He had to. Running on pure adreniline, he raised to his feet and ran back to his home, his hardened muscles breaking through the locked door. The scythe on his collarbone glowed ferociously, but as he had always done, he ignored pain, regarding it as weakness. His voice could only manage a whisper. He reached out his hand to Mistral. "Don't..."
Chani nodded and offered a sleepy grin in return. "Nice to meet you Teveriel." She yawned again, politely placing a hand over her mouth. She then chuckled a little. "Normally I'd come up with something witty to say here, but I'm posotively bushed. We were just heading off to get some rest, Jas, if you don't mind..."
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