this lighthouse I built to guide my feet has burned out and I forgot where I'm going
“Out t’the Maw,” Raza replies, without lookin’ back at Vega. She remains stoically facing forward, tryin’ not to think about anythin’ but the rhythm of paddling they’ve got goin’. In, out. One, two, pull. One, two, pull. She knows she ought to conserve some part’a her strength for the way back, but the way her hands grip the oars, the white-knuckles against oars and darker skin - well, it’s likely she’ll have plenty’a adrenaline to help get ‘em back t’shore.
Luckily enough, the two women seem to encounter a calm sea an’ little in the way’a opposition - at least on their way out. “Any interestin’ visitors?” the proprietress asks easily, thinkin’ on the Outlanders an “Order” folks an’ demigods that come to the Hanged Man.
“I got everyone under the fuckin’ sun comin’ by sometimes. All the drama is exhaustin’ sometimes.” But only sometimes. Raza’d be lyin’ if she tried to say she didn’t enjoy the occasional loud ruckus - but only if it’s the right people. Her people.
Luckily enough, the two women seem to encounter a calm sea an’ little in the way’a opposition - at least on their way out. “Any interestin’ visitors?” the proprietress asks easily, thinkin’ on the Outlanders an “Order” folks an’ demigods that come to the Hanged Man.
“I got everyone under the fuckin’ sun comin’ by sometimes. All the drama is exhaustin’ sometimes.” But only sometimes. Raza’d be lyin’ if she tried to say she didn’t enjoy the occasional loud ruckus - but only if it’s the right people. Her people.
RAZA
