[open] your twisted thoughts like snow on the rooftops

[litotes]

but you’d never get hit without earning it
and i only hit you first ‘cuz i deserved my own hit too
still it comes the time to call you out
since i’m the one that you should be about

In his stupor, he does not see the raven; or perhaps, he does not care. She is perched, content, avian eyes barely studying the cremello as he melts beneath his fever. Lie is beside himself, head pushed cruelly into the bark, when the whispering of startled feathers and a bird’s cry morphs into the rebuttal of his father. He rears back, realizing for a moment that he is attacking a tree, and maybe it should not be talking back to him. Litotes stares at the tree, squinting and un-squinting his eyes, the world swirling like a cyclone around the edges of his gaze.

My tree.

My tree? The General steps further from the bark while desperately shaking his head, as if literally jostling his brain will clear the haze. “Whose tree?” he thinks, the voice in his head warped, words he said aloud that he thinks are kept private.

Finally, he notices the blue and orange woman to his left: a startled jump and a rapid blinking of his eyes. His brain is not totally clear but the events finally piece together. Litotes stares at the shifter, mouth partly open, realizing the noises were her shifting and the words her irritation. He presses his lips together, forming a tight frown. The surprise is not long lived for his topaz eyes darken back into his initial irritation. The petulance is returned, a comical tenseness that brings the two together in their ridiculousness.

“Oh! Your tree? Would you mind showing me where your name is on it?” he snaps back, pinning his ears so that he is an exact (much paler) version of her. Quickly, though, he realizes who he is and where he is at. The anger still vibrates his body in anxious shivers, but he lifts his head and swallows.

“I did not mean to disturb you,” he grumbles, “but you can’t have the tree.”

Litotes

@[Novel] meet lil bitch lie : )