@rodanish / [x]
Rodan ran. He ran and he ran and he ran until his legs were screaming at him to stop. Every fiber of his being hurt, from the white-hot pain in his head to the remnants of burns and torn skin he had received from the blast. It didn’t matter. He had earned the wounds. He had deserved them. What kind of friend was he, to harm those he cared like that? Had it really been Ghidorah? Was he any better than Ghidorah?
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He needed to run. In his haste, Rodan ended up tripping over a raised root from a nearby tree, his palms catching his fall onto the dirt below. He whimpered in pain, aware of how utterly pathetic he was being. He hurt. He had let himself be used again and he hurt for it. Unable to catch his breathing still, Rodan realized he wouldn’t be running anymore anytime soon. His body was too sore for that. A large tree, the one whose root he had tripped over, looked particularly inviting compared to the rest of the solitude the forest offered. Rodan crawled towards it, curling up against the base and putting his head in his hands.
Rodan, finally, allowed himself to grieve. He sobbed, the sounds interrupted only by his own feathery breaths. Nothing made sense anymore. He felt like he was going to be sick.
He hoped the others weren’t too mad at him, though something told him that he would never be forgiven for his transgressions. They had been kind enough to forgive him for his weakness the first time, but this? This was unacceptable.
Yes, this was for the best, then. He’d hide forever. Nobody else would ever have to be hurt by him ever again. It was what everybody else deserved, and perhaps what he did, too.
Infant Island was a sanctuary, a safe haven, a place of rest and respite. As its guardian, Mothra was keenly aware of the events unfolding across its soil and its seas. She knew where Rodan had escaped to, but she remained still for a while, waiting for her Beloved Sea and the Hydra to track and find Rodan.
Unfortunately, she realized after the fact that Gojira and Ghidorah hadn’t the faintest clue how to comb a forest in their tiny size. Rodan was also much harder to locate now that he was small as well. Reluctant to leave Rodan in his panic and upset, the divine moth switched to her human form as well, and flew towards the tree Rodan had curled up by.
She approached slowly, allowing the wind to announce her arrival. Fluttering atop the trees, she circled overhead before slipping through the overlapping branches.
{{My dear friend,}} she spoke gently as she landed, silks pooling across the forest floor, {{please, do not be distressed. I come to offer you comfort.}}
