[open] i am someone to hate

[elodie]

elodie

She had been raised gently, Elodie. Her mother had been a soft thing and, as a result, the daughter became a soft thing.

(But she had been hardened, too, Elodie. She had known brutal heartache, loneliness, these things that put grief in the marrow of the bones. She had become hardened as a means of survival. Because she had been so dreadfully alone and soft things are easy prey.) 

A younger Elodie would have balked at the idea of ruin, of destruction, of dismantling the systems of government in place. The hierarchies, the kingdoms and their citizens. She has never thought about them in a way that mattered, always sticking to the common lands because she’d felt in her heart that she’d find her mother there.

At her core, she is still a soft thing. But even soft things can imagine sinking their teeth into the meat of the world. Even soft things can dream about laying ruin to the oppressors. So, unlike the raven, she does not turn to leave. She stays because in the darkness she had become a thing for burning and, in this, perhaps she had become a destructive thing, too.

She is prepared to burn. 

and if i go, i’m goin’ shameless
I’ll let my hunger take me there