Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
Yes, he really did seem fine. The way he spoke about it made clear he really didn't think his actions any different from chasing down a rabbit or a deer. If anything, that made it worse. The corners of her mouth drooped. Making no move to take his arm, Maea shook her head. "No. I'm not going back." The very thought made her throat feel tight, constricting; carefully she stepped back, forcing her limbs to move her out of reach. It almost worked - then her heel caught on a clump of ice beneath a stoop and she stumbled, tumbling backwards onto the ground. Getting tired of my own words
Strange, how quickly ones perception of someone could change. Barely an hour ago Asta's shadow had seemed the safest place one could possibly be in. But now all she could think of was Danta's threat to have the Butcher drag her off to face judgement, and the suddent doubt whether he had meant what he'd said about eating Ancients.
Sing to me, cause I can't hear myself
through the loudness of my own hurts
through the loudness of my own hurts
base inspired by Odd <3
