Her words were always enough for both of them.
On the good days, the cool ones, she'd lead the way to someplace and tell him everything she saw. The world looked different through her voice. Everything was bolder and more vibrant. She'd flop into some green hill or sunken wooded place, eyes bright, with the world before her.
She said everything, but her words were not wasted.
And on the other days, the bad ones, he wished he could make her stop. He wished he could stop the cursed words flying off her devil's tongue, he wished he could rid her of all the sick memories that drowned her face, he wished he could make everything beautiful again, so she would feel no more pain, and he wished that only he would be enough for her, but for a girl with the world large and full before her, there were bound to be bad days.
The bad days were always the warm ones, where the sun pounded on her and the grass was reborn into bitter remembrances. These are the days she killed things.
He'd follow her into the someplaces they'd shared on good days, though she shouted for him to get lost. Her daggers in hand, she'd throw herself at wild cats and perched birds and roaming deer, screaming, "I must avenge them!" And after her bare feet has kicked up dirt for forever, she'd collapse into green hills and sunken wooded placed and writhe in pain, because "What did I do to deserve this!" And on one bad day, she looked up at him, her own face engulfed in grief, and shouted, "Why, Longshot? Tell me!"
Of all the times he wished he could stop her, now was when he wanted it most. She never asked him for anything, and the one time she did, there was nothing he could do. All he could manage was to walk to her from his place behind the trees, where she knew he was watching, and wipe the tears way with his shirtsleeve. He closed her eyes gently with his fingertips.
"I like to see the world through your eyes. On bad days, all I see is anger, and fear. On good days, everything is beautiful. Please, make everything beautiful again."
With her eyes closed, the fire slowly faded and her anger washed away.
"Is it all beautiful again?"
She bit her lip and nodded. "Yes."