𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 - 𝐉. 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐘

𝟎𝟏

Dark, tanned skin prickled with the sun's warmth, deft fingers loosely grasping a thick branch. Syra's parted lips were pointed towards the bright star, her eyelids twitching under the light.

The sound of nature is what the young girl focused on. The feel of nature.

Syra tilted forward, and backward on the balls of her feet, the animal hide around them doing nothing to shield her from the bumps of the branch she was currently on. She didn't mind it, she was used to it.

A distant, familiar call came from below the tree. She opened her eyes gradually, tilting her head down. She wasn't too far up. If she had jumped from the branch she was on, there would be no injuries.

On the ground, her brother, Lincoln, stood with squinted eyes, the sun causing his bronze skin to shine. He was staring up at her with crossed arms. Syra's lips twitched.

"Food. Let's go, monkey." The old nickname made her deep eyes gleam, and she gave her brother a brief nod, which he acknowledged with one of his own and turned away from the tree.

It was a quick climb down, only a loud rumbling sound made her stumble and lose her balance. Syra grunted, her lower back crashing onto the rough ground while a small, but sharp twig cut into her finger as she attempted to brace herself.

"Syra!" Before she knew it, Lincoln was by her side, ever cautious of his baby sister. Her brows drew together as she gazed up at him, shaking her head.

"You heard that too, right?" Lincoln shook his head, yes, and a pit of dread settled deep into her chest, catching in her throat. Generally, she wouldn't be so worried. Rain and thunderstorms were common. But this wasn't thunder rolling on any clouds.

Syra was about to ask another question when she caught the expression on Lincoln's face, and how his attention shifted. She pursed her lips and looked in the same direction.

Syra's nails dug into the dirt below her, a hitched breath fleeing her parted lips.

It was a ship of some kind, coming from the sky. It looked as though someone tossed them downwards at full speed, seemingly on fire.

"What.." She trailed off, absorbed by the odd thing, watching as it came closer, and closer to the ground. They wouldn't be too far from the landing, and Syra seized Lincoln's shoulder.

"We'll be okay," he sounded so uncertain, that is what Syra was afraid of. Her big brother not sure of their safety. Lincoln was her safety, her home...

Syra yelped as the thing finally collided with the ground, and she let go of Lincoln to cover her ears. If she was more conscious of the situation, she would be embarrassed by the action. But her mind was murky, her eyes squeezed shut. It was a childish action, something Syra wasn't.

"Syra, we have to go." Lincoln's voice was muffled but she still heard him rather clearly. Syra inhaled a deep breath and lowered her hands, opening her eyes at the same time. Her gaze darted up to Lincoln's, and she nodded.

He helped her stand up, not even glancing back once as they began walking towards the cave they resided in for now.

☆☆☆

"Lincoln, this is ridiculous," Syra hissed, watching as her brother cared for the cut on her finger and there was a loud sigh from him as he finished up with her finger.

"No, it's not. No one can know you have... it" The air shifted instantly. Syra assumed he was doing this because he was overprotective. Not that.

"Linc, it's a small cut..." she tried, shaking her head, feeling a loose, messy braid fall in front of her face.

Lincoln's hushed voice caused her brows to furrow, "a cut that bled, Syra. Do you not remember how your mother-"

oh.

It seemed as though everything went quiet. Syra stared at Lincoln as his eyelids fluttered, regret flooding his face.

Syra swallowed down the lump in her throat, her face contorting. It's been years, yet any mention of her mother caused her to pause and hold back the tears. She knew Lincoln didn't mean it maliciously. He was simply trying to protect her like he couldn't with her mother. But it stung.

It stung so badly that her chest began to prickle with pain.

There was about a minute of silence before Lincoln spoke up. "I apologize, monkey, I just.." he trailed off once more, but Syra shook her head, dragging him into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his abdomen and he wrapped his around her shoulders.

"It's okay," Syra spoke quietly, into Lincoln's chest.. He pressed a kiss to her scalp, and they both departed from each other, the tension falling straight to the ground.

"I have to go, stay here. I mean it." His voice was harsh, as he turned away from her to grab his weapons.

Syra made a sound of acknowledgement and she crossed her arms over her chest, watching Lincoln as he left.

A new feeling entered her mind, attacking her chest as her lips quirked.

She wasn't going to stay.