Shadows. Shadows and smoke, hiding and lies. How could there be trust in this, she wondered. Cloaking and hiding and reluctance, fear and sorrow. Dark shapes and swirls, concealing. How was such a relationship possible?
But she remembered all the times she almost fell, would have fallen, and he didn't let her. She remembered the safety she felt when he held her. And she knew, there couldn't be shadows without the light to cast them, that smoke came from fire. What was hidden could be found, each lie was only a concealment of truth. Cloaks could be removed, fear overcome, sorrow turned to joy.
Some things were worth fighting for, she thought. Some people were worth fighting for. Joy was light, love was light, and they were worth the combat with shadows. It was hard to fight shadows, constant shifting shapes, mist and swirls and intangible foes. It was exhausting, but… worth it.
But weariness too was like shadows and smoke, an intangible opponent, and one even more dangerous. One that was winning, she feared. It was turning her into a shadow too – can shadow fight shadows? With what weapon?