08-27-2015, 02:16 AM
I wanted to leave something besides a blood trail,
besides prayers growing stale on my tongue.
Cellar does not greet the queen as she arrives, but rather avoids her eyes as she sets about her work. It is not disrespect that drives her inaction but rather the opposite. When she kills, she is a monster and unworthy of even the most minute kindness. But it is Gryffen's wish to see her bring about harm and she has chained herself to their commands, so she watches as Stricken crumbles to her knees as she whispers her quiet request. The sentence hangs in the air unfinished and mostly unheard by the others.
A frown begs to form across her lips but she steels herself against such emotions or thoughts as another half sentence leaves the dying girl's lips. She assumes the girl wanted to say she didn't want to die. They are familiar words and it makes her sigh slowly before turning back to the wraith as his eyes dance with delight.
"Could I have been born anyone other than me?" she asks with a faint tilt of her pale head as she watches him. "Could I have been her, in some life? Could she have been me?" Her questions hang heavy as she continues to stare into his eyes while her face betrays no emotion. Cellar is aware that she could have just as easily been a victim to some sick ritual or test but the stars or whatever higher power chose her to be the hunter on this particular day. She always felt it necessary to apologize for being the survivor in her encounters.
But then he's asking another question and she lowers her head to look down at Stricken's blood soaked body. For this question, she has no response. Any sort of death shook her to her core and left her a little more tired.
"I have been blessed with nothing. Anyone given any sort of strength must also shoulder the weight of what that strength does," she says before looking up at him once more. Eventually her eyes shift to the queen as she observes them from afar.
"I am no messenger, Gryffen. I am merely my father's child."
She falls silent then. All that is left is to await further orders or to resume observing those around her.
This night will not bring sleep and she has no intention to seek it.
Cbesides prayers growing stale on my tongue.
Cellar does not greet the queen as she arrives, but rather avoids her eyes as she sets about her work. It is not disrespect that drives her inaction but rather the opposite. When she kills, she is a monster and unworthy of even the most minute kindness. But it is Gryffen's wish to see her bring about harm and she has chained herself to their commands, so she watches as Stricken crumbles to her knees as she whispers her quiet request. The sentence hangs in the air unfinished and mostly unheard by the others.
A frown begs to form across her lips but she steels herself against such emotions or thoughts as another half sentence leaves the dying girl's lips. She assumes the girl wanted to say she didn't want to die. They are familiar words and it makes her sigh slowly before turning back to the wraith as his eyes dance with delight.
"Could I have been born anyone other than me?" she asks with a faint tilt of her pale head as she watches him. "Could I have been her, in some life? Could she have been me?" Her questions hang heavy as she continues to stare into his eyes while her face betrays no emotion. Cellar is aware that she could have just as easily been a victim to some sick ritual or test but the stars or whatever higher power chose her to be the hunter on this particular day. She always felt it necessary to apologize for being the survivor in her encounters.
But then he's asking another question and she lowers her head to look down at Stricken's blood soaked body. For this question, she has no response. Any sort of death shook her to her core and left her a little more tired.
"I have been blessed with nothing. Anyone given any sort of strength must also shoulder the weight of what that strength does," she says before looking up at him once more. Eventually her eyes shift to the queen as she observes them from afar.
"I am no messenger, Gryffen. I am merely my father's child."
She falls silent then. All that is left is to await further orders or to resume observing those around her.
This night will not bring sleep and she has no intention to seek it.
I could give you my body, my flesh,
offer it up like a sacrifice, like a banquet.
offer it up like a sacrifice, like a banquet.
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