KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Wings meant nothing if the mind was tethered. Freedom was an illusion, and so was choice. There had been a time when Korbin had been full of fire, and the light had been enough to spill over, to stream from his being and shed warmth upon others. But it was smothered in ashes now, and the ice taking hold.
As the gloved hand was waved at him, the raven leveled a stern look upon the girl. It spread dark wings and toppled off the perch, came drifting down to the ground. And as it did, the bird shimmered and changed, grew in height and weight until the feet that connected with the ground belonged to a young man. Tall enough to loom over her, dressed in black, his hair and clothes as disheveled and unkempt as the feathers had been. There was a storm brewing behind his dark flint blue eyes, and a painful looking line of healed scars cut across his throat.
"Where else can I go?" he asked in response to her question. Korbin shoved his hands into the pockets of his long coat and walked past the girl, heading for the exit.
As the gloved hand was waved at him, the raven leveled a stern look upon the girl. It spread dark wings and toppled off the perch, came drifting down to the ground. And as it did, the bird shimmered and changed, grew in height and weight until the feet that connected with the ground belonged to a young man. Tall enough to loom over her, dressed in black, his hair and clothes as disheveled and unkempt as the feathers had been. There was a storm brewing behind his dark flint blue eyes, and a painful looking line of healed scars cut across his throat.
"Where else can I go?" he asked in response to her question. Korbin shoved his hands into the pockets of his long coat and walked past the girl, heading for the exit.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
