bound for flames
#2
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     As November drew to an end, Ahren became increasingly detached from the real world. Poe vanished from his world, smiling as she did so. He did not hate her for this, but he knew what it meant. The guitar she had left with him was strapped on his back. Though he was not brilliant with it, he was competent—enough to give them one song before the world ended. It was peculiar to him, in some way, that he had traded the crossbow for an instrument he barely knew how to play.
     Coughing and drawing his hand to his mouth, he stepped around a puddle of slush. What caught his attention quite suddenly was the color on his hand. Frowning and rubbing this off, he turned his eyes down and idly toyed with his tongue ring. His mouth still tasted like blood.
     A scent caught his attention and the blonde looked up. On the intersection ahead a familiar figure crossed, and he trailed after it until they were within speaking distance. “You’re a bit far from the Waste,” he offered with a smile, joking with her as he seemed to do with everyone he met.





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