who we are and all that we're trying to be
It'd been a long time since he’d dreamt about stars. Lately it had been blood and bones, fangs and blades, circuitry wrapped around napes like nooses; and all of it faded to a something cosmic, with clouds and mist, with galaxies and midnights. Perhaps that was all the signal he needed, required, for his mind to hone in on the clusters below his feet and the piercing weight that another notion and moment was taking shape.
Safrin’s voice edged and honed, causing the sharpness in his skull to signify further – eyes going towards the others who’d joined. Uncertain if the apprehension should’ve been there, clustered in the notches of his spine, or other figments entirely, he waited, watching, before bowing his own head towards the goddess. “Safrin,” a rumbled greeting, the silent consternation and inquiries beginning to brew.
It takes dying to know
How to live as ghosts
