"What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said.
The tension does nothing but make Edmund uneasy. He fusses in her arms, whimpering and huffing, on the verge of tears and Maeve does all she can to keep him from crying. She paces slightly beside Sunjata, rubbing Edmund's back and pressing a kiss to his temple, shushing him gently as she bounces him in her arms. Scales spread across Sunjata's skin, giving away how vulnerable he feels with the clear need to shield himself from her as if she can actually hurt him, but she doesn't hold that power anymore.
She scoffs, shaking her head at him, "You think I'm not going to correct people should they say something? Of course I will, but I am also not going to snap at anyone that looks his way. Yes, I can read people. I know what they're thinking at times and I won't let the rumors spread, but you and I both know that they will choose to believe whatever the fuck they want." They both know it. They've always known it. It has nothing to do with Sunjata being a good or bad guy and if anyone tried to lay a hand on her son they would lose their life. She might not have fangs or claws or shifts, but she'd rip their throats out all the same.
"None of us are good people, Jata. Locke wasn't. I'm not. You're not. None of us are. We all have blood on our hands. Things we wish we never did. Things we want to change. We can't. We're left with the scars of our sins and there isn't anything we can do to hide it no matter how we might try."
She scoffs, shaking her head at him, "You think I'm not going to correct people should they say something? Of course I will, but I am also not going to snap at anyone that looks his way. Yes, I can read people. I know what they're thinking at times and I won't let the rumors spread, but you and I both know that they will choose to believe whatever the fuck they want." They both know it. They've always known it. It has nothing to do with Sunjata being a good or bad guy and if anyone tried to lay a hand on her son they would lose their life. She might not have fangs or claws or shifts, but she'd rip their throats out all the same.
"None of us are good people, Jata. Locke wasn't. I'm not. You're not. None of us are. We all have blood on our hands. Things we wish we never did. Things we want to change. We can't. We're left with the scars of our sins and there isn't anything we can do to hide it no matter how we might try."
Maeve
