the wild screaming weight

Time has stopped before us The sky cannot ignore us They’d promised to try. One would have to wonder how much effort had been put in. How much damage had been done. How many days spent in limbo and transgressions hadn’t made hearts grow fonder; and instead, seemingly wilted and decayed, in an unknowing stranglehold. He didn’t bother hiding the air of confusion as Sunjata began explaining; recalling Seren’s pocket dimensions and the capabilities of said areas, but that the tangible heart had been left to fade in Ru’s incorporeal state. A mistake, but barbed enough to have it maim and tear at both of them in swift, abrupt cadence. No two halves of the same whole, but a parted puzzle, driven back by the states of their grief. Perhaps that made it more tragic or a given all along. Deimos wouldn’t be the one labeling it – but neither Sunjata nor Ru had a decent track record when they opted to strive together. This one hadn’t ended in stabbing or arson; but the slow, withering potential of a purpose, an ambition, gone to fade into nothingness. And what had the Flood earned, after all of it? He left that thought to himself, a withheld, inward snort stifled into the back of his mind, interspersed with a careful, long breath to hide the warranted means. An unfortunate side effect of it all, for her ruin to also be the cause of his. Then he lofted another inquiry, one he hadn’t bothered to ask the Valkyrie, not in her state, not in her desperate need to find more ground. If you get it repaired, would you try again with her? the Resurrected Sword No one can separate us For we are all that is left