Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
Perhaps they were, at that. But growing up with sharks swimming through the ground and snow that reassembled itself, walking on water was less a miracle than common occurences. It seemed strange to her that anyone might think twice of such things, especially from a local.
"No offense meant... I'm just not good with having people too close," she mumbled, head bowed and face veiled from view by the dark rags. Reclaiming the knife, she followed his example and removed the innards of the fish, caring not at all that her fingers became sticky with gore. Crimson on white. Blood in the snow.
"What's the other part?" She scraped out the last bits of entrail and hefted them up on the sand, just far enough away that the water wouldn't claim it and the Hels wouldn't try to snatch it. She saw them wing their way closer overhead, drawn in no doubt by the promise of free food.
"No offense meant... I'm just not good with having people too close," she mumbled, head bowed and face veiled from view by the dark rags. Reclaiming the knife, she followed his example and removed the innards of the fish, caring not at all that her fingers became sticky with gore. Crimson on white. Blood in the snow.
"What's the other part?" She scraped out the last bits of entrail and hefted them up on the sand, just far enough away that the water wouldn't claim it and the Hels wouldn't try to snatch it. She saw them wing their way closer overhead, drawn in no doubt by the promise of free food.
