Sing to me, I am not doing well
Getting tired of my own words
"... because. When the bloodlust hits, they're all the same. Birds, deer, a person..." Her gaze held a faraway look that seemed to pass through him, unseeing. It was not an unfounded fear, because she knew exactly where it came from. She wished she didn't. Wished it wasn't there, wished she could think it away and be safe in the knowledge that she would never be carried away and fall to a point where she turned on a friend, a foe, a random passerby in the street... "I don't want to, but the urge is there. Watching you... it's like seeing where I'll end up if I get too comfortable in this place." Getting tired of my own words
He was right again; she didn't know herself. How could she? It had only been a year since she hatched from stone and began to figure out who this new being was. A tiny monster with a dreadful hunger and a broken heart - was it not too much to ask, that she should have it all figured out when far stronger beings were struggling too?
It was stubbornness that made her keep pushing to rise. Too tired to shift or draw on her magic, rising and moving was all she could manage. Awkward and weak and surly, she reluctantly trundled after the Butcher. Because in the end, she really had nowhere else to go.
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
