the sun said—it hurts to become
Did it matter at all—if they were good or bad? Was killing wrong in general? But how could that be so, when the Goddess ordered it be done? If there were any who were right, who were consistently good and whole, it had to be the Gods. So why? Why did I feel like I had just witnessed a crime? Why did I feel like I had blood on my hands, my heart, my head?
I threw my head down and fought the urge to cry, to curl up in the golden grasses of the Thistle Meadow and let my tears wash away my confusion. But I couldn't do that. Captains don't cry. Captains fight, I whispered to myself to keep my heart from bursting.
Impulsively, I threw my head back up, this time straighter than before. My dusty wings were splayed out at my sides, bristled and ready to act as shields. My pale amber eyes weren't soft as they normally were, no, they burned. "FIGHT ME," I screamed desperately into the meadow, sending a nebulous cloud of smoke tumbling from my jaws. I lurched forward and turned my head from side to side, seeking an opponent who could simmer the storm of emotions that raged through my chest and ripped through my head.
open spar! auri just came from this thread and is very distraught, so naturally she's battling it out. Apologies for the rushed, icky starter; it'll get better!!
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Set in the Thistle Meadow around mid-afternoon on a warm and sunny day.
She is far away. She...she is far, far away from me.