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    Svedka -- Year 212


    “He only knows home in his dreams and even those dreams do not mimic large, centuries-old redwoods. Lio doesn't remember the last time he laid his head down and truly felt comfortable.” --Elio, written by Phaetra

    [private]  a beautiful oblivion; Sabra
    You don’t get to have it your way.
    They say.
    She says.
    She says.
    Not today.

    I’m not sure when the tides turned, and the roles reversed, but somewhere along the lines she devoured me.  Maybe I hadn’t been paying attention, maybe she saw an opportunity, a weakness.  Or maybe.  Maybe I wanted her to do it.  Maybe I let her.  Could have been that I was tired of the blathering, the choices, the control.  Maybe I wanted to be the controlled, the tempered, the submissive.

    The owned.

    Who knows?
    Does it matter?

    There’s a fond smile, something of whimsy and splendor, and pure impish delight smothering my face.  Fluid and languid are my movements, poised with such a grace that a disgusting creature like myself should be incapable of possessing.  But opposites attract, as do the like minded and able bodied.  Much like Sylva, my beloved wood of burning beauty, eternal autumn.  

    My, how she blazes.  And speaks.
    The voices, not my own, I feel them far before I know who they belong to.
    A companion.
    Another blissful smile as I tip my head back into darkness, with a purr of delight, I can still see how glorious the bright locks of the sentinels shine, even in the belly of the beast.

    Maybe we’ve all been devoured.

    "Jaaa-aack, where are yoooouuu?" I sing it out loud, the darkness seeming to amplify my voice. Then louder, more insistent: 


    The forest shifts around me as I move, my ears flickering every which way as the night writhes. We speak their names, invite them in, and so they're here. 
    The darkness lives and breathes and hungers. It wants and needs and I? I am the one they have chosen to feed it. 

    The time has come, your time has come

    They whisper as I walk, as they always have. But the tune has changed. My steps are lighter, my head is higher. I have purpose, and it must be shared. Which leads me to... 


    I huff as I come through a tangle of roots, cursing them as I go. But there's a sound in the dark, a rustling and the Voices lean in. I breath in, thin ribs creaking as they expand around the air. "There you are!" I sigh with relief. My wings shudder, light flickering from my flanks as they're revealed and shuttered once more. 

    Jack be nimble, Jack be quick
    Jack fell in with a lunatic

    Oh, shut up. 


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