| |
|
Sage had his work cut out for him, keeping Lyra close enough to keep an eye on, and safe enough, while still letting her hop around and help with the gardens in any way she could. Really, she wasn't all that much help....she did more playing than anything... But he just liked the time spent with her. She really was so precious, and he enjoyed watching her hop about and attempt to help tear up weeds with her still chubby hands even if she wasn't exactly one hundred percent helping the situation. He worked through the plants himself, chatting with Lyra as she moved about, a grin on his face as they moved together. One of these days she'd be old enough to actually work, but for now, he enjoyed the playful nature that she held. It reminded him of Jora, really....how she could do something but still keep up a friendly chatter. Of course, Jora also enjoyed working quietly sometimes, and Lyra wasn't quite there yet....but that didn't matter. He enjoyed hearing her voice, seeing the fire in her eyes. It was special. So, so special. |
|  |
|
| |
 |
Jora lingered at the doorway for a while, arms folded loosely as she watched the two of them in the garden. Lyra’s little squeals of triumph every time she thought she’d pulled a “monster weed” free made Jora’s chest ache in the best way. She wasn’t really helping—Jora could see that plain as day—but Sage didn’t mind, and that made Jora love him all the more. The patience in him, the easy grin he wore as he listened to their daughter chatter on, was something she treasured. She remembered when their own lives had been nothing but survival, filled with noise of a different kind—clashing, fighting, running. To see Sage crouched in the dirt, shoulders loose and laughter in his voice, was almost surreal. And Lyra…their little girl had brought out a softness in him Jora doubted he’d shown to anyone else before. She stepped out finally, moving quietly across the garden path until she was close enough to catch Sage’s eye. The look he gave her then—open, warm, full of quiet joy—made her heart flutter. Lyra was still babbling proudly about her “bug hunt,” and Jora crouched to brush soil from her daughter’s cheek, smiling at them both. “This is the good kind of work,” she murmured, gaze flicking from the dirt-stained plants to the dirt-stained hands that held their little family together. |
|
|
| |
|
Sage hadn't sensed Jora there at first, only noticing her when she moved on closer. When he did see her though, he gave a a grin before Lyra was showing him another weed or pointing at a cool looking bug and he had to look back at the little girl and voice his own positive opinions about whatever it was that was being shown to him. He did scoot over a bit so Jora could crouch down beside him and reach for Lyra, chuckling softly in response to her comment. "It's much better than what we had to do before," he agreed softly, sort of shifting so their sides brushed together gently as they sat there. He was muddy so he didn't really want to hug Jora or anything. ..he doubted she would appreciate him getting her all dirty at this point, but just relaxing next to her was perfectly fine, in his opinion. It was a nice day out, warm and sunny with just a bit of breeze. He could smell the ocean, feel the breeze in his hair. It was all just so....peaceful. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it. He liked it, of course, but there was part of it that would always seem new. He rather liked it that way. He hoped he never got used to this. Too bored to enjoy it. It was all so special. |
| |
|
| |
|
Jora eased down beside him, her knees sinking slightly into the soft earth as she smiled at the sight before her—Sage, half-covered in dirt and sunlight, and Lyra beaming proudly over a crooked weed clutched in her tiny hand. The whole scene felt so alive, so steady in a way she still wasn’t used to. When Sage’s shoulder brushed hers, she leaned subtly into him, content with that small contact. She didn’t mind the mud nearly as much as he seemed to think she would—honestly, it made him look endearingly human, far from the hardened man she’d first crossed paths with years ago. Her gaze lingered on him for a heartbeat longer before turning toward the garden. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” she murmured, her tone soft but full of meaning. “How this kind of quiet can feel so… fragile. Like if we blink too long, it might vanish.” Her hand absently brushed some dirt from Lyra’s sleeve as she spoke. “But it’s good. It’s ours.” A warm breeze rolled past, carrying the scent of salt and green things, and she let herself breathe it in, slow and deep. Peace still felt foreign on her tongue, but sitting there—with Sage’s warmth beside her and Lyra’s laughter filling the air—it didn’t feel impossible anymore. She reached over to nudge his arm lightly, a small, knowing smile curving her lips. “Maybe getting used to it isn’t such a bad thing.” |
|
|
Hurricane ! Follow Evacuation Routes.
