the SNAKES start to SING

[Lye]

kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep Eyes as eerie as the glow of an orange moon, they watched, they studied. Silently she knit together a tapestry of a make believe life of the winged steed. He had a cold heart; she could not hear it beat within him as strong as flesh ones that beat a rhythm of hope and love. His eyes looked soulless, a dark oblivion. She liked it. she liked that he was a kindred spirit, in speaking, to her. But she knit another few sections. He was bound to have a following of love-struck mares. After all he was rugged, he had a handsome face, a swagger in his walk that must have made many swoon and fall at his hooves. Oh, because of that she was certain he had swarms of children; main strong sons, taking after him. But like some tapestries, this one soared in flames, just as any other she designed in her head, at the very sound of his voice, it crumbled and all she had left of any idea of him, was the cold hate ebbed into his tongue. "I'm like you." Lye's voice is unchanging, cool, unnerved. Instead the mare stalked forward, closer and closer until she was nose to nose with the grey steed. "There's things inside of us that we don't want to know. I see it on your face. I see it in your cold, dead eyes." she stops here and her black legs, covered in dirt and sand and white chalk from the cliffs, move beneath her in an unsteady patterns. "You have eyes like my mother." her voice is flat then, her ears swivel and she has flashes of the past torrent through her, it boils and burns her insides, so much so she twitches and stumbles to the side, back out of his reach, until she's face to face with him, and there it is, the darkness she felt emanate from him, it taints him, like a cloud of rain, it hangs above him. It hangs above her too. They are the same, two dark souls wandering the earth. But she was certain there was another reason, blood as thick as waste, a tainted line, a darkness seeping in through the cracks of weak minds. "No, but dead girls will haunt the bones from the living." Lye laughs, a cold, twisted little laugh, it seems to bounce against the cliff-face and echo through the beaches. Like some maniac she cranes her head and looks to the sky with her strange coloured eyes. "I'm Lye. Poison. Hate. Death. Everything you want the darkness to be. I was born by sin and created out of a dark kindling. You could say, I'm just like you." Her voice taints the backdrop, her eyes darkening. She hears whispers, cold, dead tales spinning in her mind. Flashes of memory. She has relatives. Sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles. but she too is a sister, an aunt, a grandmother, a great grandmother in some cases, but to this one, she was sure they shared something more than a little darkness. An insane little cackle bubbles from her lips. When the living share too much with the dead, they lose parts of themselves, and little Lye had lost many parts, she was now more like a husk of flesh and bone, her soul wrapped up somewhere else; a voodoo's dream. "Cold. Dead. You've seen it, death. You've tasted it too. Tell me, winged one, what is it like to take a life away? I've seen the end result, and where it leads but... your eyes, they tell me things, they show me that you've taken much away from others, but you, you too have had something taken, something precious." she oversteps the boundary and reaches out for him, her muzzle harsh and cold against his soft warm flesh. "I've never had anything precious to be taken from me. I've had nothing." • busted x locket • orange eyes, immortality • no one •

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