bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones
the rattle roar of broken bones
“I haven’t been out this way before,” she commented towards her uncle, despite going back and forth with Iskra from various points in Torchline to Halo’s freezing reach. This terrain had the looks of a beach but no actual semblance or sanctity of warmth – blackened, obsidian, and icy – like some kind of Siberian nightmare. Not one bit of it seemed welcoming, perhaps a staple of Halo’s existence, and despite all the boldness trapped within her frame, she wasn’t about to go dipping her toes into the frigid bitch of the sea. She did kick an ice chunk out of her way though, watching it to vaulting straight into more nefarious looking dunes seemingly carved out of volcanic debris.
Taking a deep breath, her eyes swept back to Sunjata instead, gaze narrowing as if she was studying him – waiting for something to be deciphered or to show that she cared; a dual-edged knife. “Are you good and shit now?” Had he recovered from Ru? Had they even talked? Was there much else to say? Had he gone to see Frey already? All those inquiries settled behind her teeth like ammunition; little pieces of shrapnel she didn’t have the heart to unfurl. “Iskra and I had a good time at the dinner,” as if to soften the blow.
Taking a deep breath, her eyes swept back to Sunjata instead, gaze narrowing as if she was studying him – waiting for something to be deciphered or to show that she cared; a dual-edged knife. “Are you good and shit now?” Had he recovered from Ru? Had they even talked? Was there much else to say? Had he gone to see Frey already? All those inquiries settled behind her teeth like ammunition; little pieces of shrapnel she didn’t have the heart to unfurl. “Iskra and I had a good time at the dinner,” as if to soften the blow.
the honeybee
Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw
angry, wild, and raw
