And all that she intends, all she keeps inside.. [birth;any]

[Reuen]

Is it just me, Or do you wonder if we're put here just to see, The crowd feels claustrophobic. I feel like spiders crawl along my skin, burying deeper and deeper inside of my wounds. I shiver, a full bodied shake that doesn't get rid of the crawling monsters on my flesh. I paw at the earth, hoof grating the grass until the dirt beneath comes through, I continue, focusing on the mechanical movement until I stop and whip my head up, watching Witchita and Tioga. 'Tioga.' I whisper, extending my muzzle, lips twisting and curling in an attempt of a childish little smile. I tilt my head to the side and at the young one's observations of Fiasko, I follow her gaze and too, am awed by her. 'Hurt. Everybody hurts.' I draw my head back up and look straight at Wichita. She hurt, she was hurting when I came, and I ache, and Fiasko, she hurts but with something else, something forgotten but not. I step forward and reach out my velvet nose, daringly towards the painted queen. 'Hate. Hate hurts. Hate hurt you.' My velvet lips touch her, ever so slightly on the neck before coiling back and shuffling on my hooves. Trembling yes wide, large and white. I remember something, fragments, like shards embedding themselves into my heart, my soul. Like fragile spindles of glass that only delve further into my depths the more I try and remember. I shake my head, the cold, iciness that mars my insides fades for a moment as I flick tufty ears forward, absorbing the words thrown about like falling leaves, but I barely catch them, my eyes are up, staring at the skies, the stars hiding beneath the blanket of sapphire. 'Reuen hurts. Reuen hurts everywhere.' Because I do. My heart, my soul, even my head. But not as much as the exterior wounds, that dig deeper and deeper. The more I move, slither about like some serpent, the more the scarlet trickles from them. What once was clean, open flesh was now congealing blood. I turn back to Wichita. Whickering gently, hoarsely. 'Stay. Stay here. Safe here. No blood. No teeth, no hate. No... Hate.' How much heartache we can take, Without hanging from the tallest tree? - resident of the gates -