Maea
And it feels like fear
Like I'll disappear
Like I'll disappear
It was dark by the time she emerged from the shrine. Sometimes she liked simply being there, wrapped in the darkness. With nothing to bother her and no one to ask questions, she could think thoughts that had no place in the light. Things she could never speak of to anyone, for they made even her queasy and shivering with cold dread - fearful of the depths she found within herself.
She emerged from the cold water like a ghost, shivering and nearly blue in the skin from being exposed to the low temperatures for so long. Moving stiffly, with nothing but a shift to conceal her thin, delicate seeming body she dragged herself up onto the rocky shore. Her sharp teeth clattered as she struggled to make a fire of the driftwood she had piled up before going into the cave, knowing fully well that she would need it.
But though she fumbled with the flint and steel, her hands were growing too numb to do it properly. A spark was all she needed, yet even that was growing increasingly difficult, as dangerous stiffness whispered echoes of stone through her joints. And wouldn't that be wonderful; becoming a statue all over again, not even from Halo's deadly cold but out of foolish overconfidence a stone's throw away from home.
She wondered sluggishly if Danta would care to save her again, if it came to that. She wasn't sure how much stock he put on intelligence in his subjects.
She emerged from the cold water like a ghost, shivering and nearly blue in the skin from being exposed to the low temperatures for so long. Moving stiffly, with nothing but a shift to conceal her thin, delicate seeming body she dragged herself up onto the rocky shore. Her sharp teeth clattered as she struggled to make a fire of the driftwood she had piled up before going into the cave, knowing fully well that she would need it.
But though she fumbled with the flint and steel, her hands were growing too numb to do it properly. A spark was all she needed, yet even that was growing increasingly difficult, as dangerous stiffness whispered echoes of stone through her joints. And wouldn't that be wonderful; becoming a statue all over again, not even from Halo's deadly cold but out of foolish overconfidence a stone's throw away from home.
She wondered sluggishly if Danta would care to save her again, if it came to that. She wasn't sure how much stock he put on intelligence in his subjects.
Gets so hard to steer
Yet I go on
Yet I go on
