[Silent Salt had thought himself prepared for this. He knew that, despite the tentative truce they had reached, there was still so much rage locked within Shadow Milk's heart. Yet having the words spoken into reality, being faced with the truth of his actions — it is a far greater struggle than he might have expected.
Shadow Milk asks what he would say, but the words fail him at first. Not a single word could ever justify what he had brought upon them all.
But Silence is what had brought them to this precipice. He would not let it be what carried him into the beyond.]
I do not expect forgiveness. I do not deserve it. But I offer an apology nonetheless. You, my once dearest friend, should have received better from I. [Violet eyes flick toward the glint of that deadly blade. They are only seconds away now.] May I make the right choice, in the next life.
[And Shadow Milk thought this was the thing he actually wanted. That this would be a satisfying way to take his revenge, after all. Salt had betrayed them twice over, and while Shadow Milk knows he played no small part in the other's misery as a result, his own anger and anguish- surely taking it out on the other Beast would help.]
[Breaking things, pain, violence, it always helped, right?]
[Crumbling him should be easy, he's crumbled countless. The jam on his hands is an ocean's worth. He's never once cared before now.]
[So why does the blade in his hand shake? The mask is slipping, and it no longer seems to fit the way it used to. There's a thick knot in his chest, but the show must go on. He swallows while the other gives his apology, it hangs heavy in the air between them. Finally, he says in a trembling voice,]
May we both.
[And he lurches forward. The blade strikes true, despite it all, though it takes more effort on Shadow Milk's part to push it through, between his ribs it pierce his heart. He let's out a noise, befitting a Beast as he does, and drops to his knees in front of him.]
[As Shadow Milk shifts toward, Salt allows his own eyes to shut. The pain does not bother him. Nothing would ever compare to that day in the barren. And when compared to centuries of nothingness, he should simply be grateful.
And he is. If not for the fact that he is feeling, then at least he knows that justice has been carried out. For too long have his crimes gone unanswered. At least one small thing would finally be put right.
Breath leaves him in an instant as the sword plunges forth. A great wall of agony rushes over him, and then dissipates just as swiftly.
With no life to spur him onward, and cut free from the proverbial strings that had held him in place, he tumbles forward. As he does, a great neigh cracks through the air from the distant barn.]
[He kind of regrets doing that, considering how much bigger Salt is than him. As his life is snuffed out and he topples forward, his weight hits Shadow Milk like a flour bag and he utters a soft grunt as he catches him.]
[He stays like that, probably a little too long. Holding him like they were just having some friendly embrace, rather than Shadow Milk rattling against the body of someone who had once been a comrade. When it becomes too much, he will finally shift and lay him down, and there he sits covered in his jam until the body dissipates like he assumes his must have before.]
[Once it's gone, he finds no reason to linger here. While the woodcrawlers cannot harm him, that doesn't stop them from trying, and so he stands, slams the sword into the ground in front of the flattened patch of grass where Salt once was, places his helmet atop the hilt, and makes his way back to the Inn.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2026-02-11 06:16 am (UTC)Shadow Milk asks what he would say, but the words fail him at first. Not a single word could ever justify what he had brought upon them all.
But Silence is what had brought them to this precipice. He would not let it be what carried him into the beyond.]
I do not expect forgiveness. I do not deserve it. But I offer an apology nonetheless. You, my once dearest friend, should have received better from I. [Violet eyes flick toward the glint of that deadly blade. They are only seconds away now.] May I make the right choice, in the next life.
no subject
Date: 2026-02-11 06:41 am (UTC)[Breaking things, pain, violence, it always helped, right?]
[Crumbling him should be easy, he's crumbled countless. The jam on his hands is an ocean's worth. He's never once cared before now.]
[So why does the blade in his hand shake? The mask is slipping, and it no longer seems to fit the way it used to. There's a thick knot in his chest, but the show must go on. He swallows while the other gives his apology, it hangs heavy in the air between them. Finally, he says in a trembling voice,]
May we both.
[And he lurches forward. The blade strikes true, despite it all, though it takes more effort on Shadow Milk's part to push it through, between his ribs it pierce his heart. He let's out a noise, befitting a Beast as he does, and drops to his knees in front of him.]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-11 06:58 am (UTC)And he is. If not for the fact that he is feeling, then at least he knows that justice has been carried out. For too long have his crimes gone unanswered. At least one small thing would finally be put right.
Breath leaves him in an instant as the sword plunges forth. A great wall of agony rushes over him, and then dissipates just as swiftly.
With no life to spur him onward, and cut free from the proverbial strings that had held him in place, he tumbles forward. As he does, a great neigh cracks through the air from the distant barn.]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-11 07:21 am (UTC)[He stays like that, probably a little too long. Holding him like they were just having some friendly embrace, rather than Shadow Milk rattling against the body of someone who had once been a comrade. When it becomes too much, he will finally shift and lay him down, and there he sits covered in his jam until the body dissipates like he assumes his must have before.]
[Once it's gone, he finds no reason to linger here. While the woodcrawlers cannot harm him, that doesn't stop them from trying, and so he stands, slams the sword into the ground in front of the flattened patch of grass where Salt once was, places his helmet atop the hilt, and makes his way back to the Inn.]