okteiviakom | The Woods on Isla San Pedro, Chile, Thursday Afternoon

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The Woods on Isla San Pedro, Chile, Thursday Afternoon

It had been about a week. Some communication mishaps aside, life on their quiet, private Chilean had settled into its own kind of equally quiet, calm routine.

For Octavia, a healthy portion of her part of the routine was made up of long walks roaming around in the woods. Trying to catch sight of the local wildlife, finding out which plants grew where, exploring.

And on this particular afternoon, she'd once more taken Duke with her. They'd been walking for a while, the cabin already out of view somewhere back in the direction they'd come from. Octavia was looking up towards the treetops as she moved, taking the very real risk of tripping over something in the undergrowth right along with the vague sense of awe that tended to come over her whenever she was in a place like this.

"How long do you think some of these trees have stood here?"

[ooc: NFB because of distance. For the sailor and massive SP because that's the kind of week this is.]

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Duke was keeping an eye on her as much as their surroundings, so theoretically he could catch her if she tripped. You know, if he wasn’t tripping over anything himself.

“Could be centuries,” he said. “Depends on the history of the island, I guess, whether anyone tried to develop it at some point.”

"Develop?" Octavia asked, glancing over at him - although only briefly. "Like... putting in more buildings?"

He could probably guess what her feelings were on that kind of developing.

"Or farms, or . . . even adding trees here if they weren't here originally. Humans really like to modify our environments."

"Usually for the worse," Octavia muttered, because sometimes you had to be a little predictable.

She approached the nearest tree, and reached out, trailing her fingertips along its bark. "I feel like humans don't plant enough trees."

"Not compared to how many we cut down," Duke agreed, watching her with a small smile. "We've never been really good at balance, as a species."

He was being kind of hard on humans this trip. Though he'd see it more as being realistic about them.

"And we won't be," Octavia replied, thinking back - or forward? - to her own time.

She leaned closer to the tree. Let her fingers travel further, taking in the texture, teh changes in it. "Not unless our hand is forced."

". . . Or encouraged, at least," Duke allowed.

She was beautiful like this. All the time, of course, but especially here, in her element, caring so much about nature and keeping her world from coming to pass.

Octavia responded only with a vague hum. She stepped even closer to the tree - and slid her arms around it.

The concept of a 'tree hugger' was only vaguely familiar to her (although you couldn't get into environmental activism and never run into it) but even if she'd been more aware of it, she really wouldn't have cared.

Sometimes you just had to embrace a tree.

That wasn't an experience Duke shared, but it didn't surprise him that Octavia felt the urge. He very quietly took a quick photo of the moment, then tucked his phone away again and enjoyed watching her appreciate the world. And that tree in particular.

Octavia had her eyes closed. Just -- yeah. Taking a moment.

(The tree was solid and old.)

Her voice was quiet.

"Join me?"

Tha was unexpected. But maybe it shouldn’t be.

“Is there enough room?” he asked, even as he moved to wrap his arms around the tree too — and her as well, of course.

"It's a tree," Octavia sighed, perhaps a little inanely. "There's always room."

Especially when you were willing to share.

“I shouldn’t have doubted,” Duke said with a chuckle, settling in against her — and the tree.

Octavia loved him for indulging her.

"It's old," she murmured, after another little sigh. And an inhale. (Bark, leaves, woods.) "It's been here before us and it'll probably be here after we're gone."

Whatever 'gone' would end up meaning for each of them, in the end.

"It can handle both of us."

“And more,” Duke agreed. “While making our lives nicer along the way.”

It helped when her requests were very easy to indulge. The tree was rough and a bit grody — but so was Duke.

And so was life.

"Exactly," Octavia replied. She knew she would have to let go soon, not push this moment further than what would feel natural to someone that wasn't her - but there was also something on her mind. "If this tree's hundreds of years old, I can't even really understand that. What it feels like to be a living thing for that long."

And.

"And Lucifer's a lot older than that."

Ah.

“He is,” Duke said, much more trepidatious now. “He’s existed longer than the Earth has.”

"Yeah," Octavia murmured. Paused for a little beat.

She wasn't sure if she could actually feel a shift in his demeanor, or if she was just imagining one because it seemed likely.

"He said you guys had a... moment that didn't go so well."

Duke sighed. And wondered — uselessly and not for the first time — if the two of them ever talked each other through talking to him the way they both did with him about each other.

“Yeah. I was honest, and he wasn’t ready to hear it.”

"Maybe... honesty wasn't what he was looking for," Octavia hazarded. Quietly.

“Yeah, no shit,” Duke said dryly. “I apologized but he wasn’t ready to hear that, either. So . . .” He sighed, resting his cheek on the bark. “I’m giving him time.”

Time, not space. Duke was tiptoeing around Lucifer, but he wasn’t avoiding him. Just waiting for a moment that felt like he could clear the air.

Octavia sighed, too. She was gathering her thoughts again, quiet for another moment.

"I get it," she murmured. "What your honesty was about. I think? We can't know any of it's actually over."

Haven. The ground.

Everything with Heaven.

"Not really."

“Of course we can’t,” Duke said. “And I worked hard to accept that. And I forgot that . . . Luce isn’t in that place.” Duke pulled his arms from the tree, turning to lean his side against it instead, one hand resting on Octavia’s back, his temple against the bark. “Worst part is I had just been trying to tell him how having to work hard at things like meditation is part of the appeal for me. I am honestly not sure we connected a single time in the whole conversation.”

Octavia finally opened her eyes again when she felt him move. She shifted a little, made her stance less of an embrace too, but still leaned against the tree.

Watching him.

"Sounds like it," she agreed, still in that soft murmur. "He's... He hasn't been feeling safe."

Duke had been thinking about telling her that talking to Lucifer had been a bit like talking to Nathan, back in the day — something he hoped Lucifer never found out — but that? Much more important.

He tipped his head a little more firmly into the tree, closing his eyes and letting out a rough breath.

“What happened when I was an otter? Is this the singing thing alone, or was there something else?”

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