[ It's no small wonder that Tifa doesn't see her at first. Aerith is crouched very low in the grass. She has her hands folded in prayer, her head bowed. Anyone could mistake her for another rock among the tall, tall grass, if not for the (grody, needs to be washed) massive pink bow fastened around her braid.
She is not sure what it is she's praying for. The people she passed by on her way here, that is absolute. She needs their souls to find safe refuge like she needs air to breathe. She prays for communion, for guidance, and is not surprised when she is spurned by silence. But most of all, she prays for something to end this all-consuming terror that she feels when she gazes upon the endless sky and its infinite possibilities and pictures falling, falling into it with no steel plate to catch her as she drifts with no anchor into the heavens. Once again, she is afraid and she is alone.
And once again, just like in the train graveyard when she was scared and lonely and needed someone to take her hand, she senses Tifa's presence. (It's firewater and red leather boots and skin so warm she can feel it from here.) Her stinging eyes open. Her trembling lips stretch into a smile. If she could get up on her shaky knees, she would be running by now, but she does not trust them at all to carry her. ]
A for A+++ delivery ty
She is not sure what it is she's praying for. The people she passed by on her way here, that is absolute. She needs their souls to find safe refuge like she needs air to breathe. She prays for communion, for guidance, and is not surprised when she is spurned by silence. But most of all, she prays for something to end this all-consuming terror that she feels when she gazes upon the endless sky and its infinite possibilities and pictures falling, falling into it with no steel plate to catch her as she drifts with no anchor into the heavens. Once again, she is afraid and she is alone.
And once again, just like in the train graveyard when she was scared and lonely and needed someone to take her hand, she senses Tifa's presence. (It's firewater and red leather boots and skin so warm she can feel it from here.) Her stinging eyes open. Her trembling lips stretch into a smile. If she could get up on her shaky knees, she would be running by now, but she does not trust them at all to carry her. ]
Tifaaaa...!
[ She sings it like a prelude to a happy song. ]
Over here!