hard liquor mixed with a little bit of intellect
 | Wound had always enjoyed the river that blessed Beqanna’s core. In her younger days - before her confidence blossomed - she had stood up to her chest in the quieter portions of the river. The water would lap at her belly and she would look normal for a few blissful moments. She’d spent a lot of time in the river as a youngster, even refusing to come out against her siblings’ wishes several times. She’d received their scathing tongues later. Their parenting words were similar to the pinch of a vaccine injection. There was the screaming and crying following the pinch of pain, but protection came from the hurt later down the road. Now that she was older, Wound was eternally grateful for the way her brothers had raised her. Wound had always been amazed at how the ice formed on top of the river. She’d seen several curious children fall through in the early winter, so she knew the water didn’t freeze completely through. Just as well, the center of the river was too rough and wild to be controlled by the cold. Wound aspired to be like the core of the river - an untamed rapid too fierce and bold to be controlled by the will of others. A light snow had fallen the night before. It crunched under Wound’s feet as she walked along the edge of the river. Her awkward limp (given to her by her curse of a foreleg) cause the noise to sound like a song sung slightly off-key. Wound’s breath puffed through the air like the snort of a dragon and she watched it fade into transparency with mild amusement. While she wasn’t a fan of the colder months - they left a dull ache in her joints - she had come to find her happiness in the small beauties of the winter. |
@[Tenebris] / @[Ehoghan]