11-15-2016, 05:01 AM
find what you love … and let it kill you
They had gone into a stasis. The coming of this world—the one that they all shared, where her blessed body was no more than a blank canvas for the taking of the horizon—was indeed a Reckoning, and the slow madness that was overtaking her was coming. A reckoning of her own.
Epithet would remember herself as she pulled through, awakening to a new day with her little pitch daughter Leola trailing behind her, the girl growing ever more weary of seeing her mother losing herself into the magic of her blood. For without her gifts, Epithet was no more special than she was insane… and as this writer is learning, the level of her madness has yet to fully be discovered. And so the wind blows and the snow falls, and the ponds and creeks have frozen over. Epithet blinks, her lashes sifting through the snowflakes, looking for some sense of clarity and finding none.
Leola also looks around, her body growing a thick fuzzy blanket to deal with the chilling winter—much like the one from last year, when she was much smaller. She could tell that there was power in her own blood, even if she could not quite remember what it was. All she knew was, she wanted her father to fix her mother. She wanted someone to care.
Epithet would remember herself as she pulled through, awakening to a new day with her little pitch daughter Leola trailing behind her, the girl growing ever more weary of seeing her mother losing herself into the magic of her blood. For without her gifts, Epithet was no more special than she was insane… and as this writer is learning, the level of her madness has yet to fully be discovered. And so the wind blows and the snow falls, and the ponds and creeks have frozen over. Epithet blinks, her lashes sifting through the snowflakes, looking for some sense of clarity and finding none.
Leola also looks around, her body growing a thick fuzzy blanket to deal with the chilling winter—much like the one from last year, when she was much smaller. She could tell that there was power in her own blood, even if she could not quite remember what it was. All she knew was, she wanted her father to fix her mother. She wanted someone to care.
Epithet