[It takes Rue far too long to realize she's holding her breath.
Did she have any right at all to lay claim to this name as the one he could trust? Her mind flashes on an image of the front of her journal, and she grits her teeth before whispering, breathless:]
[It's a risk. A gamble. All at once she feels like she really accomplished something, though, like she reached him somehow despite his fear and maybe. Maybe.
They can end this dance as they ought, holding onto each other without any distance.]
[In a way, she might have. In a way, she did. He holds her, feeling both of those emotions at the same time but holding onto Rue with all of that. But he can't help but go on, and whisper.]
[What else is there? She can't help what she is and she doesn't think she can stop his eventual transformation either. Which is, after all, her fault. Shouldn't that make her responsible for stopping it, then? For stopping his suffering?
For finding that shard before anyone else does? And then doing whatever is necessary to get it, to keep it from changing him again.
One hand pulls him close enough for a protective embrace. She wishes she could tell him that he didn't need to fear anything.]
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[He confirms as he twists and twirls, his hesitances slowly fading.]
You. You're-
[He stammers, as if uncertain of what name to call her. The name he feels devotion towards or the one he fears.]
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Did she have any right at all to lay claim to this name as the one he could trust? Her mind flashes on an image of the front of her journal, and she grits her teeth before whispering, breathless:]
Rue.
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Rue.
[Such a simple name. And with such a rhythm to it.]
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[One hand reaches to touch Mytho's face lightly.]
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Do you feel less afraid?
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[He closes his eyes again.]
I'm afraid, and... I'm devoted.
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And if they're all here, then there is one she alone must find first.]
Fine. [She tries, hesitantly, to pull him just a little closer. They are still dancing, after all.]
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I don't want to be... otherwise.
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They can end this dance as they ought, holding onto each other without any distance.]
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I don't want... to be a crow again.
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[With every inch of her tainted heart.]
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None of us should be crows.
[And with a frightened hush.]
It should never happen.
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[What else is there? She can't help what she is and she doesn't think she can stop his eventual transformation either. Which is, after all, her fault. Shouldn't that make her responsible for stopping it, then? For stopping his suffering?
For finding that shard before anyone else does? And then doing whatever is necessary to get it, to keep it from changing him again.
One hand pulls him close enough for a protective embrace. She wishes she could tell him that he didn't need to fear anything.]