this lighthouse I built to guide my feet has burned out and I forgot where I'm going
Bleeding, bruised, and soaked to the skin, Raza stumbles through slick streets of Haulani in the rain. Her knees are covered in mud from where she’s slipped and fallen to the ground, the skin of her palms scraped raw and ingrained with tiny pebbles, bits of dirt and debris.
She knows where she is, so that’s something - but it’s a small something, given the rest of her.
She knew the Slagveld had some medical supplies for those particularly bloody fist-fights and it was closer than the Hanged Man, Mik’s place, or Zeph’s. But it seems much further away than it should be, and her head isn’t quite right, it hurts to breath sometimes, and something, at some point, sliced multiple points of her open.
Maybe she should have stayed amongst the wreckage, the wood, the roof, the water. Maybe she should have -
Bangin’ on the door, Raza attempts to open it with a violent fling of what seems like all her remaining energy. It ain’t much, but maybe it’s enough to get her inside.
She knows where she is, so that’s something - but it’s a small something, given the rest of her.
She knew the Slagveld had some medical supplies for those particularly bloody fist-fights and it was closer than the Hanged Man, Mik’s place, or Zeph’s. But it seems much further away than it should be, and her head isn’t quite right, it hurts to breath sometimes, and something, at some point, sliced multiple points of her open.
Maybe she should have stayed amongst the wreckage, the wood, the roof, the water. Maybe she should have -
Bangin’ on the door, Raza attempts to open it with a violent fling of what seems like all her remaining energy. It ain’t much, but maybe it’s enough to get her inside.
RAZA
