Weaver
Time is the substance from which I am made.
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
Time is a river which carries me along,
but I am the river;
Weaver isn’t the sort to tell a child to avoid strangers. No, she’s the sort who will teach you how to tell the difference between the good and the bad ones. She’ll help you understand that everyone is likely to turn on you in some way or another. Not always maliciously, but simply because life drives people in different directions. She’s the sort who will put a dagger in a child’s hand and make sure she knows how to use it well enough that she can scream and run away. She’ll teach a little girl just where to hit so it hurts the most.
”Hmm, that depends, what sort of game are we playing?” she asks, though she’s already sliding onto the rock beside Seren. Weaver pulls one leg in against her chest and drapes her arm over her knee, letting her other foot rest against the ground still. ”May I ask who your family is?” she adds, merely curious who the little girl belongs to. Children are a rare enough sight in Caido that she cannot help the curiosity.
”Hmm, that depends, what sort of game are we playing?” she asks, though she’s already sliding onto the rock beside Seren. Weaver pulls one leg in against her chest and drapes her arm over her knee, letting her other foot rest against the ground still. ”May I ask who your family is?” she adds, merely curious who the little girl belongs to. Children are a rare enough sight in Caido that she cannot help the curiosity.
it is a tiger that devours me, but I am the tiger;
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
it is a fire that consumes me, but I am the fire.
