11-25-2021, 12:35 AM
YOU'RE WALKING IN THE SHADOWS OF YOUR FEAR AND YOU'RE HEADED
FOR THE GALLOWS, SIN AROUND YOUR THROAT AND NO ONE'S NEAR
FOR THE GALLOWS, SIN AROUND YOUR THROAT AND NO ONE'S NEAR
She is a curious creature, and he is glad to have stumbled across her. He didn’t often choose to interact with many others, though it was mostly out of guilt; he knew he only wanted them for one thing, and while the shadows may have entirely overcome his body and his bones, there was still the heart of the blue roan boy born in Taiga beneath it all.
He knew what he did was wrong.
He knows that if most of them had any idea what he did to them they would likely feel violated, attacked, and he can’t say he blames them.
This seemingly last thread that his conscience clung to didn’t stop him, but it did cause him to exercise more caution and be as discreet about it as possible.
He studies her a little more carefully after she gives her answer. He wants to ask her why she was looking for a set of bones in the first place, but something tells him it is a more personal answer than he wants to hear. And since he is not in the hunting mood, her sorrow, grief, or regret would serve him no purpose, and so he decides against it. “I know these woods pretty well, if you need help,” is what he offers her instead. He isn’t sure if he would actually be of any use in this regard, but it would at least serve as the distraction he was looking for.
The way she goes still does not go unnoticed by him, and her unblinking stare is matched by his own. Somewhere beneath the shadows there are pinpricks of agitation threatening to form as her silence leaves room for his own conclusions, assuming that she is about to judge him in one way or another. Then again, she is the one searching the forest for skeletons, so perhaps they are equally matched in their sins. “I don’t need their blood or meat,” he answers her, tone level and even, nearly indifferent, “just emotions.”
He knew what he did was wrong.
He knows that if most of them had any idea what he did to them they would likely feel violated, attacked, and he can’t say he blames them.
This seemingly last thread that his conscience clung to didn’t stop him, but it did cause him to exercise more caution and be as discreet about it as possible.
He studies her a little more carefully after she gives her answer. He wants to ask her why she was looking for a set of bones in the first place, but something tells him it is a more personal answer than he wants to hear. And since he is not in the hunting mood, her sorrow, grief, or regret would serve him no purpose, and so he decides against it. “I know these woods pretty well, if you need help,” is what he offers her instead. He isn’t sure if he would actually be of any use in this regard, but it would at least serve as the distraction he was looking for.
The way she goes still does not go unnoticed by him, and her unblinking stare is matched by his own. Somewhere beneath the shadows there are pinpricks of agitation threatening to form as her silence leaves room for his own conclusions, assuming that she is about to judge him in one way or another. Then again, she is the one searching the forest for skeletons, so perhaps they are equally matched in their sins. “I don’t need their blood or meat,” he answers her, tone level and even, nearly indifferent, “just emotions.”
T O R R Y N
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Beyza