"It grew your powers." He repeats the new word, trying to make the sentence fit in his head, and his eyes narrow. "Is Scion the reason you have powers?"
She makes a frustrated, lonely sound, letting her hand drop. She doesn't know how to say what she means, and she can only hope she's even understanding his questions.
"Hey--" He shifts and takes her hand, a soft squeeze but loose enough she can slip away if she needs to. "It's okay. We'll- we'll get there. You'll find the words again someday."
Flapjack settles down in her lap, pecking gently at where she was poking herself for emphasis before he looks back up at Taylor fondly.
She links her fingers into Hunter's, squeezing back. "Words," she says with a sigh. Why are they so hard? She knows she used to talk all the time. Talking was easier than anything else. Even Flapjack can communicate better than she can, right now.
His thumb runs along the tops of her knuckles, as he gives her a soft smile.
"You know, we did make port," he offers quietly. "And- I'm a warden now. If you like, we could..." He looks down at Flapjack, and the bird chirps encouragingly. "Maybe we could go for a fly?"
Her breath catches as she reaches out to touch the staff, expression brightening considerably. "Fly," she says, much more certainly, wide-eyed as she looks back to Hunter. "We fly."
She remembers them flying out over a wooded coastline, a shoreline almost familiar but wild and beautiful.
Hunter's own face lights up a bit at the recognition, and he stands up, still holding her hand to lead her along if she lets him, invitation as much as it trying not to let his own excitement get away from him.
He'll use the elevator to get them on deck faster, to save her the energy of trying to balance, and his bare-handed grip stays warm and steady in hers.
When they're on deck, it's still dim since the Barge landed inside a burrow, but there's streaks of amber sunlight shining through the narrow exit, and he pauses to admire it briefly, before he holds his staff out, low and easy for Taylor to straddle as it floats in mid-air. "Here- you can sit in front. I'll keep you safe."
She stops for a moment, looking up at the earthen roof with a distant expression. For a moment, she lets go and her hand goes to her stomach, following the scar she can't feel through her shirt as the memory comes back of waking in a cave a little like this, and knowing-
Breathing out sharply through her nose, she shakes that flick of memory away and focuses again on Hunter. She takes her place on the staff, less steady than she'd like with one hand and no balance, but Hunter is here, and she has no fear he'd let her fall.
He climbs on behind her, tucking in close so his friend's (his friend!!) butt is braced between his knees, and he leans forward, using the slight advantage of his height to grip the staff between her legs on her bad side, and his other arm wraps around her chest like a seatbelt, making sure she can't lose her balance.
"Is this alright?" he asks, and his voice is close to her ear, soft and concerned.
She presses her shoulders back against him, solid behind her, and lets go of the staff for just a moment to squeeze his arm in response before gripping it again, her hand just in front of his. There's a tension in her whole body, but she's excited, not nervous.
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'Scion... gave you your powers? Or- boosted them, maybe?"
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Flapjack settles down in her lap, pecking gently at where she was poking herself for emphasis before he looks back up at Taylor fondly.
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"You know, we did make port," he offers quietly. "And- I'm a warden now. If you like, we could..." He looks down at Flapjack, and the bird chirps encouragingly. "Maybe we could go for a fly?"
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And Hunter plucks the staff his palisman forms out of the air with his free hand, so he can give Taylor a grin.
"Fly. On my staff."
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She remembers them flying out over a wooded coastline, a shoreline almost familiar but wild and beautiful.
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"Let's go fly."
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"I fly- home, Defiant..." The words lag as she tries to remember the name of her little ship. "Dragonfly."
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When they're on deck, it's still dim since the Barge landed inside a burrow, but there's streaks of amber sunlight shining through the narrow exit, and he pauses to admire it briefly, before he holds his staff out, low and easy for Taylor to straddle as it floats in mid-air. "Here- you can sit in front. I'll keep you safe."
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Breathing out sharply through her nose, she shakes that flick of memory away and focuses again on Hunter. She takes her place on the staff, less steady than she'd like with one hand and no balance, but Hunter is here, and she has no fear he'd let her fall.
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"Is this alright?" he asks, and his voice is close to her ear, soft and concerned.
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