Maeve
He told her that he was going to be butchering a goat for their meals anyway. That he usually does this every other week. The goat was raised for the slaughter. That was the way of things and there was nothing to be done for it. Maeve's eyes dip down to the goat, drawing in a sharp breath, "I didn't think they named them..." She muses softly, confused as to why they would give a name to an animal that wasn't going to live long after maturity. Doesn't that just make it harder? The idea that this she goat has a name definitely makes it harder for her.
The sudden shift in tone has her eyes snapping back up to his, sea glass green meeting golden hazel as a dark cloud seems to block out the light that normally fills her. She can't hesitate. She knows this. It would be inhumane. Maeve has to kill something, but she doesn't think that Safrin wishes the creature to suffer. Hesitating would insure that. A slow, painful death. That certainly isn't how she wishes for things to go. Maeve nods at him gravely, jaw set as she reaches for the dagger. "Tell me where I'm supposed to cut. The best way to do this. I- I don't want to make it harder for her." She knows it won't always be like this. She won't get to make death pretty. Maeve wasn't the Lullaby. The Madame wouldn't be able to send them off in sweet dreams and warmth. That wasn't her place.
No, death by her hand would be bloody. There wouldn't be a sweet fade to black if it came down to it. Whatever death she brought would be nothing of the sort.
The sudden shift in tone has her eyes snapping back up to his, sea glass green meeting golden hazel as a dark cloud seems to block out the light that normally fills her. She can't hesitate. She knows this. It would be inhumane. Maeve has to kill something, but she doesn't think that Safrin wishes the creature to suffer. Hesitating would insure that. A slow, painful death. That certainly isn't how she wishes for things to go. Maeve nods at him gravely, jaw set as she reaches for the dagger. "Tell me where I'm supposed to cut. The best way to do this. I- I don't want to make it harder for her." She knows it won't always be like this. She won't get to make death pretty. Maeve wasn't the Lullaby. The Madame wouldn't be able to send them off in sweet dreams and warmth. That wasn't her place.
No, death by her hand would be bloody. There wouldn't be a sweet fade to black if it came down to it. Whatever death she brought would be nothing of the sort.
I'm undone about to burst at my seams
'Cause I am picturing you beside me
So let me be everything that you need
'Cause I am picturing you beside me
So let me be everything that you need
