Some scars are harder to see.
“I am truly sorry,” for what, I was not sure: for her wound, for interrupting, for, well, existing. I was very sorry for the latter, indeed, but that was not the point.
The fire was utterly mesmerizing.
The mention of the Sun God made me think of Gaucho. I dismissed that line of thought with a flick of the tail and a ruffle of the wings – they came to wrap around me, naturally, as they always did.
Satanic Silk. Interesting. Africa. Very interesting. I would remember those names.
It was the divination thing that called my attention, however.
“Do you… see things? In the flame? The future?”
Part of me hoped yes. The rest of me knew how unlikely that was.
Meraki.
“I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.”
— T. S. Eliot
I, like Meraki, am endlessly sorry for the ridiculous amount of time I took to reply :o Work caught up with me. I promise I won't take as long next time, but if I do, feel free to go ahead and pretend she's just standing there looking silly :3