11-20-2020, 10:04 PM
YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
Yadigar watches him and there is nothing of the kind, gentle child he had been so many years ago. Every scar and heartbreak had carved another piece of him away until he was just a makeshift substitute of his father before him. He knows this and he despises it, yet he does nothing to outgrow the shadow he is left in. Tarian questions him and he gives a light shrug of his broad shoulders, his wings flexing slightly at the movement.
“We are no one’s judge but our own,” he begins as he tries to piece together his thoughts. “There are no gods watching over us here, Tarian. There is only us and our will to survive. You and I must choose to live or die each day we rise from our sleep.”
And maybe he wishes there was a god he could cry to. Wouldn’t it be grand, to know someone out there would spare a moment of their time and divine power to hear his sad little prayer? But he doesn’t allow himself to dream, anymore. He crushes the idea and shifts his weight as he realizes he’s hungry. Yadigar will have to hunt soon, but he doesn’t want to leave any of his captive’s questions unanswered. Perhaps he could tag along, then? Could he stomach the gore and the slaughter or would he avert his eyes?
“Once upon a time, I bruised easily. I cared deeply for every life,” he explains, though he doesn’t know why. “Now I care only for the taste of blood on my tongue. Maybe you can find a way to take even that from me.”
And he prays that Tarian does.
“We are no one’s judge but our own,” he begins as he tries to piece together his thoughts. “There are no gods watching over us here, Tarian. There is only us and our will to survive. You and I must choose to live or die each day we rise from our sleep.”
And maybe he wishes there was a god he could cry to. Wouldn’t it be grand, to know someone out there would spare a moment of their time and divine power to hear his sad little prayer? But he doesn’t allow himself to dream, anymore. He crushes the idea and shifts his weight as he realizes he’s hungry. Yadigar will have to hunt soon, but he doesn’t want to leave any of his captive’s questions unanswered. Perhaps he could tag along, then? Could he stomach the gore and the slaughter or would he avert his eyes?
“Once upon a time, I bruised easily. I cared deeply for every life,” he explains, though he doesn’t know why. “Now I care only for the taste of blood on my tongue. Maybe you can find a way to take even that from me.”
And he prays that Tarian does.
@[Tarian]