𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 | 𝟏𝟖+

ix. violins.

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‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖'𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 to being his miserable two-legged winged self. He keeps to himself most of the time, only speaking to Ronyn, Arion, or Cordea. There's no spark, no sign of life fluttering down their tether. Not until the night.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen sat on the rails of her balcony, gazing outwards to the woodlands in the distance, the closest she can get to feeling at home. It was only for a moment, as if the breeze formed an unspoken alliance with her, but she heard it. Not a growl that speaks of his were blood, but the music. A piano. Just a simple chord.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎It's only in those notes that Elowen feels an inkling to Morrow's emotions and thoughts, but he's done a damn good job at barricading his heart, locking it in steel spikes.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎All of that comes to the surface the moment when Elowen steps out of her bedroom for the first time in the morning. As she rounds the corner out of his corridor, she stumbles into the alpha himself.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Fucking shit," he hisses between gritted canine teeth.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Their tether might currently be nothing but a tangled knot, but she's always been able to sense his presence. Whether he be in the same room as her or across the entire palace, she knows where he is, and it helps her avoid him at all costs. Their relationship is non-existent, but strange. So incredibly strange.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎But those inklings to his whereabouts don't seem to help her this morning. In fact, judging by the way he dresses, there must be a reason for his cloaked presence. Slung over Morrow's shoulders is a bag to carry sparse belongings and supplies: food, water, bandages. He's in his usual loose dark-hued clothes, his charcoal hair a ruly bedheaded mess. He clenches his jaw, a tendon twitching as he lowers those meadow green irises down upon her. He's thoroughly unimpressed.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen shakes her head. "Sorry, I thought you were elsewhere in the palace." He usually is at this hour in the morning.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I will be elsewhere," he grumbles, then pushes past Elowen without giving her anymore answers to her unspoken questions. Too bad for him. Getting rid of Elowen won't be that simple. He's going somewhere, somewhere out of the palace, and she places her bets that she knows where.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen jogs just to keep up with Morrow's long strides. "You're going to Yestrea, aren't you?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You're a nosy little thing, sparrow."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I think I have the right to ask a question," Elowen mumbles. "Especially since I've been grounded here for weeks."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"That's your own fucking fault."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Is it now?" Elowen scowls. He picks up his pace as he walks, and all Elowen talks to now is his back and cursed feathered wings. "You know, if you were me and imprisoned here, you'd want to leave."