Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
Subdued, Maea trailed after Ronin and Melita. Heavy guilt made her limbs move sluggishly, though it might simply be the aftermath of the fight. To her own astonishment she found herself uninjured, but there was no joy in the realization. She would have happily lost every single limb on her body, if it meant sparing the young soldier's life.
It didn't matter that he had chosen his line of work in the knowledge that death might be imminent.
With hands folded over her chest, a long thin rib bone tucked beneath an arm, she waited for the bumbling man to speak up. Rewards were promised, and she hoped he would be quick about it; she kept looking off to the horizon, eager to be long gone from the desert before the sun began to rise.
It didn't matter that he had chosen his line of work in the knowledge that death might be imminent.
With hands folded over her chest, a long thin rib bone tucked beneath an arm, she waited for the bumbling man to speak up. Rewards were promised, and she hoped he would be quick about it; she kept looking off to the horizon, eager to be long gone from the desert before the sun began to rise.
