[PQ] Don't Fear the Reaper

I am my mother's child, I'll love you till my breathing stops
I'll love you till you call the cops on me

For a while, the youth was fairly content, hastening her actions, happy to have some amount of purpose other than some feral bloodshed and blighted abyss. She watched the mortar whipped up, splashing and spilling down the sides, a little hum under her breath, Fangorn pressed into her knees, no Kiada nearby. Before long though, the fire had died down; leaving thicker, less malleable sludge, and a sudden shiver running down her spine, despite her furs, despite her clothing. “All right, looks like we need more wood,” she uttered to the little gourd, no less spirited or frustrated, no exasperation peeling from her voice, rising, eyeing the flames growing smaller and smaller, the embers seething and requiring more kindling, more brush, more things to consume. Hopefully there’d be something nearby the bone bridge. They wandered, hastening to pick up a few sticks wayward and haphazardly strewn about on paths and off beaten trails, digging for some smaller logs out of the snow, ignoring the chill sliding down her fingers. Her companion did his best too, grabbing hold of some spare dried nettles and thorns with his massive mouth, and dragging them back to their sanction. For his efforts, he received more than enough pats and scratches along his stem. The youth did her best to avoid the Harpy entirely, concentrating on her task at hand. When they returned, she settled before the fire, feeding it all the newfound items and lumber, hoping it was effective and she could continue with her prior endeavors. M e l i t a But in our darkest hours, I stumbled on a secret power I'll find a way to be without you, babe