xregicide-deactivated20140812:
Mordred grunts, his eyes fluttering open after a few seconds and he smiles. “Good morning” he mutters, moving into a sitting position “you didn’t have to.”
Summer is not slow to do so, either, with that feeling urging her on. They trot out of the town before moving to a gallop, though the horses can’t sustain that pace for long. All the same, though, the feeling of being in motion helps immensely; there’s no longer the sense of being helpless.
She frets, during the course of the day, at the feelings. It’s not entirely new, but it’s the first since she left home. Any other time, she had been nearby, and so of course it was obvious — her empathic sense picked up someone’s distress. But she’s much too far to be sensing her twin. She worries at her lip as she worries at the problem, until it’s bleeding as they dismount in the dark to set up camp for the night.
Mordred dismounts, the soles of his shoes crunching against the fallen leaves. “What’s wrong?” he asks, fiddling with the straps of the satchels before he gives up, choosing to set up a fire instead of wasting his time and patience with straps. “Forbearnan,” he whispers, his eyes flashing gold as a small fire started in the pit, deciding it was faster than taking all that time to light one manually.
“It’s getting stronger,” she says. She undoes the straps he’d abandoned, finding what she needs to put together a quick stew. “I shouldn’t be able to do this.” The firelight flickers off her face, making the worried expression stand out sharper. “My magic — I’m not that strong. I shouldn’t be able to sense her from this far.”
Summer glances up at Mordred. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”