Maeve
Inevitable. That's what they are. That's what they always will be. Inevitable. He's a wave crashing upon her shore, sweeping over her in a wash and she finally moves. An intake of breath, sharp and sudden, lashes fluttering as she trembles in his embrace. Whether it was from pain or simply the relief of having him here. His words are a distant mumble, sounding as if she's underwater, vaguely aware of his question as he rushes away from her only to appear again. He presses the vial into her hands and it's with still numb fingers that Maeve manages to uncork it, bringing it to her lips and drinking deeply, shivering as it hits the back of her raw throat.
His searching will reveal her flayed shoulders, caked with blood and a few streams of scarlet still trickling down from the open wounds, "It came out of no where... The dragon." Dragons. There had been so many. Quick and deadly. That hadn't been the worst of it. Nothing could have prepared them for what waited on top of the mountain and even now Maeve can't fathom where she exists in the aftermath.
His searching will reveal her flayed shoulders, caked with blood and a few streams of scarlet still trickling down from the open wounds, "It came out of no where... The dragon." Dragons. There had been so many. Quick and deadly. That hadn't been the worst of it. Nothing could have prepared them for what waited on top of the mountain and even now Maeve can't fathom where she exists in the aftermath.
These violent delights
Have violent ends
Have violent ends
