i struggled to find any truth in your lies - Sunday

when my time comes around
lay me gently in the cold dark earth
The bay roan stallion takes a step back, not startled at the sound of her declaration that she wants to keep whateveritis, simply aware that perhaps she might want the space. She looks no less confused than she had at the beginning of their conversation, and Errant is not entirely sure what his next step should be. Scorch had presumably sent Sunday to him for help, and he’s not sure what – if anything – he can offer.

“Is it doing things that you don’t want?” He asks, remembering his touch being unconsciously fire-hot, scalding Lea’s skin when he had reached out to embrace her. It’s not a pleasant memory, harming her, and he makes to attempt to hide the scowl. “Or…” There is no protocol for this sort of interview, nothing that he thinks that he should ask.

“Tell me about it.” He finally says, a demand. He’s used to that, after all. “When did it start? What does it do? Tell me everything.”

e r r a n t

no grave can hold my body down
i'll crawl home to her