hold my hand

lily from what i’ve tasted of desire i hold with those who favor fire There’s one place in the Hollowed Grounds which has always fascinated her - besides the Spire, which was also fucking terrifying - the Bone Bridge. The mist, the mysterious abyss, the kinda creepy formation. How many times has she walked past it, paused, considered crossing it, and then just… not? Too many times. And she has resolved to be bolder, less afraid, put herself out there instead of just sitting and home with her music and her dancing and her thoughts. To be honest, the woman who had to be an extrovert for a living was finding that she may be more of an extroverted introvert, she just never had the luxury of discovering that. So here she is again, just… staring at the bridge with this look on her face of deep indecision, arms crossed over her chest. A brisk wind tousels her flame-red hair, her locks the color of the changing leaves, which might be stunning elsewhere. But here? Here there are no trees and it just whistles through the air and down into the chasm, where it echoes in its depths. She inches closer. Just a little bit, still toeing the line of indecision with a healthy dose of fear.