( In his new home, so quiet, the night breeze drifts through the room. )

Floating.  Dreadful loathing,  
always the same, the thick warmth, the fine chains
green tendrils and sharp pistol-shot
                                             running through the field where they died, trying to find peace and having 
run out of time.  The laughter peals, the blood soaks into the dirt, staining the grass, so much potential wasted ( Read more... )

[alas, the mun works. therefore, Time Has No Meaning.]

It was a very long night after Gabriel came back from the Sanctuary, riding the thestral with Lan and not really noticing it. The Spider had been there. He'd seen him, touched him. And couldn't save him, couldn't reach out in any way other than physically to do anything whatsoever. He ( Read more... )