Maea
My heroes had the heart to lose their lives out on the limb
"Oh." Blushing at her mistake, the small woman shifted uncomfortably. "Well, first I was too sick and weak to even consider leaving my bed, let alone fulfilling any goals. Then I followed my passions into an early grave, which sort of put an end to the ones I had found. I wanted to change the way people and the gods think about the Abandoned... but now I'm neither abandoned nor attuned, so the chance to make a difference has gone." Others were doing what she'd wanted, and she would have to find some other goal to strive for. It was not going all that well.
As for the control thing... her weary sigh pretty much answered the question for her. "No," she admitted, a touch surly. "But at the very least I figure I should be able to control myself. If I can't even do that, how am I supposed to remain responsible for my actions? If I do something it should be because I knew what I was stepping into and chose it, not because I tripped and fell and oops, suddenly the world around me is on fire." These instincts were getting in the way of that. Messed up everything she thought she knew about herself, until she didn't know what was going on anymore.
Needing something to do to distract herself from upset thoughts, she borrowed a lick of flame from the boundary. Molding it into butterflies, she sent them scattering across the circle to dance above the carcass of the pig, and in a wreath over Charlie's head. Some flickered out and vanished when they moved beyond her range of control, or when she lost track of them - but most stayed. Erratic as her mind, but far more beautiful.
As for the control thing... her weary sigh pretty much answered the question for her. "No," she admitted, a touch surly. "But at the very least I figure I should be able to control myself. If I can't even do that, how am I supposed to remain responsible for my actions? If I do something it should be because I knew what I was stepping into and chose it, not because I tripped and fell and oops, suddenly the world around me is on fire." These instincts were getting in the way of that. Messed up everything she thought she knew about herself, until she didn't know what was going on anymore.
Needing something to do to distract herself from upset thoughts, she borrowed a lick of flame from the boundary. Molding it into butterflies, she sent them scattering across the circle to dance above the carcass of the pig, and in a wreath over Charlie's head. Some flickered out and vanished when they moved beyond her range of control, or when she lost track of them - but most stayed. Erratic as her mind, but far more beautiful.
And I remember thinking — I want to be like them
