Who is the lamb and who is the knife?
Following on Colt's heels like a puppy, eager and willing and ready for whatever this next chapter wrote, the young accepted was quick to act on instructions. She pulled the linen around her face and neck, tying it quickly but thinking in the back of her mind she may need adjust it later. Then, she tightened her gloves by pulling them down her wrists. Finally, she looked up and noticed who all was there for the first time.
Wren lingered at the edge of motion, caught in that quiet, aching place between what had been and what might be. Liam’s presence still unsettled something deep in her chest—not painful exactly, but unsteady, like ground that hadn’t decided if it would hold. There were too many missing pieces, too many moments she couldn’t reach for, and every step toward him felt like walking half-blind.
She didn’t know how to move forward with him. Didn’t know what it meant to try. But the work ahead of them was different, tangible. Things she could touch, cut, burn away. And she wouldn’t be alone in it.
Colt and Zavien would be there too—steady presences, familiar in a way that didn’t demand more than she could give. With them, the weight of uncertainty felt lighter, more manageable. She could focus on the rhythm of the task, on the swing of her arms and the heat of exertion, instead of the fragile, uncertain thread between her and Liam.
So she took a deep breath and prepared herself.
Wren has glovies :D
Wren lingered at the edge of motion, caught in that quiet, aching place between what had been and what might be. Liam’s presence still unsettled something deep in her chest—not painful exactly, but unsteady, like ground that hadn’t decided if it would hold. There were too many missing pieces, too many moments she couldn’t reach for, and every step toward him felt like walking half-blind.
She didn’t know how to move forward with him. Didn’t know what it meant to try. But the work ahead of them was different, tangible. Things she could touch, cut, burn away. And she wouldn’t be alone in it.
Colt and Zavien would be there too—steady presences, familiar in a way that didn’t demand more than she could give. With them, the weight of uncertainty felt lighter, more manageable. She could focus on the rhythm of the task, on the swing of her arms and the heat of exertion, instead of the fragile, uncertain thread between her and Liam.
So she took a deep breath and prepared herself.
Wren has glovies :D
wren
