in tenebris est veritas.
There is a glaring pause as the twilight breezes tug at her heavy braids, each entwined with some stone or herb or bone that had been taken from the wilds in much the same manner as the piece of coral in her pack. Each had its own power, each its own meaning, just like the runes on her goose-prickled arms and the little words sewn into her fluttering skirts. Speaking over the cool, shoreward wind, she insists, “I will keep it until it is time to part with it.”
However disrespectful her actions, Chaele had convinced herself that it was all a part of a greater meaning. ...Much like that which this predator insisted on.
Finally her obstinance relents, the meanings of his words flooding between the reeds of her contentious philosophies. For each of her theses he had an answer, for every flow an ebb. And she is not so stubborn as to deny logic, however vexing it might be to admit it. “If that time is now, then so be it.”
She leans toward him, and not without the faint stiffness of dread in her outstretched hand. The piece, glimmering and inert, is held tenderly between her crooked fingers in offering. The words that follow are not an apology, but nonetheless a regret.
“Perhaps you can see it fixed.”
However disrespectful her actions, Chaele had convinced herself that it was all a part of a greater meaning. ...Much like that which this predator insisted on.
Finally her obstinance relents, the meanings of his words flooding between the reeds of her contentious philosophies. For each of her theses he had an answer, for every flow an ebb. And she is not so stubborn as to deny logic, however vexing it might be to admit it. “If that time is now, then so be it.”
She leans toward him, and not without the faint stiffness of dread in her outstretched hand. The piece, glimmering and inert, is held tenderly between her crooked fingers in offering. The words that follow are not an apology, but nonetheless a regret.
“Perhaps you can see it fixed.”
