It's not that he went barging about the Chamber, it's not that he usually went about that way. However, every day is different, little is constant, and if he couldn't accept that fact then he felt he would be crushed by the vastness of it all. Strange. That's what he thinks of existence, if he allowed himself to really think on it at length. Odd. His body changed, aged, modified itself with age and time. His mind never seemed to catch up, not truly, he never felt his years like he thought he would.
How could he ever feel old, would he ever feel old? He doesn't know, he does not want to know either, age makes the body weak. A weak body is useless, a moping mind was much the same. So many things he was starting to see that way, mostly because life had thrown emotions at him hard and fast, and snatched them back with even more force. Like love, a fickle and dangerous emotion. The taste it left behind was bitter and poisoned in his mouth, turning to ash like the trees had once been.
Perhaps that was Her doing as well, some lesson he should know and be taught. Some way of making it clear that She was his lover, in the end, and She could be unrivaled if she so chose.
He's not angry when the mare tells him to look out, on any given day he would have done the same and in less accommodating tones. Instead he's curious, watching as the ravens lengthen darkness along her, but who is Her? He's just realized it's not any of his kingdom mates, and that the birds do not seem to welcome her. And he can't say that he's afraid of monsters, because he seems to find company in them so often. She brings them and She keeps them- She keeps him.
"I'm less trapped with them closed." He relented, a restless edge to his voice, because he felt trapped within his mind and prisoner to it's thoughts. "You should take care with where you're going." He tells her, knowingly or not she had crossed their borders, had wandered into the darkness and between the shadows.
"Where are you trying to go?" He asks, eyes still squinting as if the half light were blinding and painful.
- Year: 233
- Season: Autumn
- SWP: None
COTY
Assailant -- Year 226
QOTY
"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
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and i found love where it wasn't supposed to be; any
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