Cyno and Tighnari | forest in the light
(Closed, Moderated)
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Summary
The people and places that make up Cyno the General Mahamatra, the vessel for Hermanubis, the ward, the guardian, the desert-dweller– are they what make him? Do they belong to him? Does he belong to them?
Or: Cyno finally, finally files for a vacation.
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Words were said that she could barely remember in the haze that was the stinging of the scales and that constant tingly feeling of loss of blood circulation crawling up her arm. Most of them said truthfully, but in that same ugly, bubbling feeling she always associated with the voices. She had said something that made Tighnari’s ears press flat on his head, made his hands raise in defense, made him leave before she passed out.
One thing was certain.
She probably had to apologize.
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Growth, as he’s always told Collei, was something that took time. She used to hate when he told her that, he could tell, but she could never deny the wisdom in the saying.
That being said, one can only manage to go through a certain number of spectacular historical events before they tire out of keeping up-to-date, something Tighnari didn’t really do well himself, outside of the ever-growing compendium of discoveries being logged every other month in Amurta’s academic journals.
When was the last time he’d seen his parents?
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Tighnari's life, as he’d lived it, was a process of restraint.
or: Tighnari subtly fucks around and finds out, like any true scientist would.
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Summary
a series of moments between an amurta student and the matra that was sent to investigate him– from awkward friends to accidental co-parents.
