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12-10-2014, 03:20 PM
The world failed to become any better; her eyes adjusted to the bright, illuminated contortions of Birdsong, down towards the entrails of horror, the manifestations of terror still riddling, still clawing, across their lands. She swallowed the thickened bile enclosing her throat, the pungent disaster stinging her eyes, the brutal, barbaric truth that another one of their own had been taken, executed, slaughtered, and destroyed. Imogen sat in the vivid silence as Lena struggled to approach, because the form was familiar, a regular frame coasting across the Basin lines of glaciers, of hot springs, of caverns, and wouldn’t be seen there again. Esther she recalled from the meetings, from her young babe now stranded nearby, heart aching, voice shirking, and she couldn’t find anything to say that would hold meaning, value, beyond the encroaching flames gathering behind Mirabella’s gaze. If she’d ever been close to innocence, it was all squandered and slashed now, and the Mender, the Songbird, the gentle nymph hung her head for all the things they continued to lose, continued to forfeit and neglect. The meanings and purposes were cruelly expunged over and over again, and she could ask why until she lost all power of speech, and perhaps they still wouldn’t know why or what caused the monstrosities building, billowing, and brewing through the emerging catacombs. Kingdoms and havens were becoming tombs, and they were no closer to answers. Her stare, once upon the ground and then again on the fallen soldier, noted the flared, burnt, crisp edges of skin, the scarred remnants of ashen wakes, and sought to deliver one more decree for her team. It was the least she could do. [Team Healers and Thieves!] her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love LENA |
