11-04-2007, 02:14 AM
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It was silly, he knew, but there were things he held on to, even now. Quiet beliefs tucked away behind his ears where no one else could see them, where not even his own smotheringly cynical philosophies could taint them. It was the last dandelion in the field of dying summer flowers, there to grave the winter cold on its own. And so Laruku still believed there were such things as good people, pure and faultless in as many ways as was possible. He knew no one was perfect, but some came close. The hybrid thumbed the pages of his book. There were no pure things within, but outside of it, he could still believe, sometimes.
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It was silly, he knew, but there were things he held on to, even now. Quiet beliefs tucked away behind his ears where no one else could see them, where not even his own smotheringly cynical philosophies could taint them. It was the last dandelion in the field of dying summer flowers, there to grave the winter cold on its own. And so Laruku still believed there were such things as good people, pure and faultless in as many ways as was possible. He knew no one was perfect, but some came close. The hybrid thumbed the pages of his book. There were no pure things within, but outside of it, he could still believe, sometimes.
No, some men are more wicked than others,he said solemnly. It was something else he believed in with as much certainty as he could. Everyone sinned, some more frequently than others, some more seriously than others. His own seemed to be both frequent and serious, deadly and unforgivable on all the scales Justice had to offer. His heart was heavy with it; guilt was made of lead and he would send the feathers flying and Ahemait (or at the very least, Gabriel would) would have him.
I killed a child,he confessed finally, uncertain of why he was telling at all. He didn't feel like Ahren would care even though he wished someone would. And kill him for it.
Ate him too.Weigh against the feather, eat the heart out.