Descendent is not a concept you understand anymore, but you recognize her bright red hair the moment it appears between the trees. It has been such a long time, though even time is something you do not understand much. You just know she makes you ache, the sight of her strange, delicate skin and the pool her hair makes around her when she collapses in frustration in the grass striking at old, familiar things inside you.

You drop to the ground and crawl towards her, familiar, your face close to hers when you chirp and she startles awake, scrambling away. She’s younger now, younger then you ever saw her, a fleeting and unimportant thought as you follow after her and rub your cheek and forehead against the rise of her hips.

Or try to. She keeps retreating. You keep following, and then she’s flying, a strange frantic anger in her voice when she tells you to stop and to leave her alone. So you do. Stop at least, but the thought of leaving her be when she has been gone so long brings back the ache and you whimper, whistle little birdcalls up to her, the ones you know she liked before. You want to ask her where she’s been but you can’t. You want to hold her in the bowl of your stomach but she’s too high up so you make desperate, lonely noises and curl below her, loose, trying to appear as nonthreatening as you possibly can when all your scars stand in sharp, ugly relief on your skin.

But this little alien is just like she always was and your faint murmuring, your sad eyes, draw her back down to you. She touches your horns with a careful hesitance until you butt into her chest and knock her over, wrapping your long limbs around her smaller shape. Smaller then she was. You don’t mind, really, greeting her unsure questions with fond little chortles, nattering, clicking your teeth, purring way down deep in your chest where you haven’t since she closed her eyes and stopped getting up in the evening all those sweeps ago.




oops this is more cute then sad laksdkf