Everything had a cost.
Jigano had fought the blight in Leafchange with every ounce of willpower and discipline he had possessed, striving to work through it, work past it, to help find answers and prepare for the coming Long Night. He had wrestled his temper back more times than he could count, biting his tongue when it turned to a weapon against the ones he loved most. He had fought it until the very bitter end.
He had fought it with every last iota of his heart and soul until there was nothing left.
Nothing but the blight, wearing his body like a bespoke suit as he capered and sang and taunted, mad beyond recall. Lost in the dark.
As delighted as the blightbeast was by the turn events had taken, Remi had to go and spoil their little kumbaya around the Mathair by taking his weaker human shape. The raven drooped in disappointment as the scent of bloodlust faded with the manticore's musk, and he tut-tutted down at the man now standing below.
The rose was a pathetic sight by his feet, though. Planted but damaged, it's thorns sparkled sadly against the snow, and the raven puffed up proudly at the work he had done to mar its crimson crown.
Rosy posy truth or lie?
Planted just to watch it die.
Bloodless now it stands forlorn
Tattered, fading, dying, torn.
The raven leapt suddenly from the branch, chortling as he fell. White wings snapped open just barely above the ground to skirl a swift circle around Remi and the Rose before lifting up and away, catching a breeze and heading off to make mayhem elsewhere.
So many Roses to destroy, so little time...
{fin}
Jigano had fought the blight in Leafchange with every ounce of willpower and discipline he had possessed, striving to work through it, work past it, to help find answers and prepare for the coming Long Night. He had wrestled his temper back more times than he could count, biting his tongue when it turned to a weapon against the ones he loved most. He had fought it until the very bitter end.
He had fought it with every last iota of his heart and soul until there was nothing left.
Nothing but the blight, wearing his body like a bespoke suit as he capered and sang and taunted, mad beyond recall. Lost in the dark.
As delighted as the blightbeast was by the turn events had taken, Remi had to go and spoil their little kumbaya around the Mathair by taking his weaker human shape. The raven drooped in disappointment as the scent of bloodlust faded with the manticore's musk, and he tut-tutted down at the man now standing below.
The rose was a pathetic sight by his feet, though. Planted but damaged, it's thorns sparkled sadly against the snow, and the raven puffed up proudly at the work he had done to mar its crimson crown.
Rosy posy truth or lie?
Planted just to watch it die.
Bloodless now it stands forlorn
Tattered, fading, dying, torn.
The raven leapt suddenly from the branch, chortling as he fell. White wings snapped open just barely above the ground to skirl a swift circle around Remi and the Rose before lifting up and away, catching a breeze and heading off to make mayhem elsewhere.
So many Roses to destroy, so little time...
{fin}
