Maea
You think killing is hard?
Try healing something. That is hard.
Try healing something. That is hard.
Moths had taken over her insides. The way they raged, one had to wonder if they were normal, dusty night fliers or something more vicious entirely, something with teeth and razor wings. They fed on her anxiety, draining the blood from her face and forced her spine ramrod straight - because if she didn't keep her chin up and her shoulders back, she would start to crumble.
Maea didn't feel like she had any right to do that. By rights she should be on the floor, crawling her way to Danta's feet. No, to Asta's feet, to be trampled into the dirt or stepped over and forgotten, at the mercy of his rage. The only reason why she hadn't asked to meet him instead, was that she once again had no right to.
Dead moths began dropping to the pit of her gut as she approached the Maverick. Her footsteps were quiet on the worn tiles, the whisper of her dark skirt a hiss like serpent's - she felt like one, callous and cruel where she'd once dreamed of unicorn softness and grace - and before she had quite come within arm's reach, she stopped. Bowed low, and waited silently to be acknowledged. During the long walk into the city she had turned words over in her mind, again and again and again, searching for the right things to say... and found, in the end, that she'd said quite enough already.
It was late in the coming, but perhaps any lesson learned was better than none.
Maea didn't feel like she had any right to do that. By rights she should be on the floor, crawling her way to Danta's feet. No, to Asta's feet, to be trampled into the dirt or stepped over and forgotten, at the mercy of his rage. The only reason why she hadn't asked to meet him instead, was that she once again had no right to.
Dead moths began dropping to the pit of her gut as she approached the Maverick. Her footsteps were quiet on the worn tiles, the whisper of her dark skirt a hiss like serpent's - she felt like one, callous and cruel where she'd once dreamed of unicorn softness and grace - and before she had quite come within arm's reach, she stopped. Bowed low, and waited silently to be acknowledged. During the long walk into the city she had turned words over in her mind, again and again and again, searching for the right things to say... and found, in the end, that she'd said quite enough already.
It was late in the coming, but perhaps any lesson learned was better than none.
You can break something in two seconds
But it can take forever to fix it
But it can take forever to fix it
