09-10-2020, 06:43 PM
I was in the darkness, so darkness I became;
She is not sure what she would do now, if she saw her son.
Not that she believes him to be alive – time has passed, somehow, though to her it feels like a blink. But she thinks of him often, of the disgust that had coiled in her belly when she saw those impossibly orange eyes.
(She had never figured out the circumstances of his conception. She and Covet had not crossed paths, she did not know of the demon that had done this for its own stupid amusement.)
She likes to think that somewhere in her is a capacity to forgive. She likes to think a lot of things about herself, preferably ones that are never put to the test.
She has been quiet, here. She is still out of place in this world, still stumbling along under the weight of her revelations
(I died and came back and my kingdom is gone)
and does not have room for much else. She is not unkind, to the few who speak to her, but she does not invite them in.
It’s the scent of blood that she catches first, and then she sees the girl. Young – a child, still – and clearly wounded. Craft’s teeth clench as she wonders what happened, feeling an urge to punish whoever had done this.
She’s not sure what drives her forward, but she comes closer to the girl – not too close – and focuses on her wounds, on the torn flesh, the dirt.
“What happened?” she asks, voice soft. She is too focused on the damage to look much at the girl’s face, transfixed instead by the scent of blood.
Craft
@[Mazikeen] sorry for the wait!!!!!!