As Gods we shaped the world around
#4
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     She was so much so like the sea; her face could not settle and refused to find peace. Her eyes, though, oh her eye were on fire. This was not unlike the blonde’s right eye—red, burning, and vicious. His left, the blind, remained like fog and refused to stay still. “I’m sorry. It was destined.” He advanced, but it was like walking through smoke. All along his arms the scars another dead woman had given him seemed to pull from this and form living spirals around them . “You cannot come with me yet,” he asserted, and let one hand reach out to her face. It touched her cheek gingerly, though his smile was vicious and terrible. “You came here with a purpose.”
     Sharply, suddenly, his hand jerked back. It drew blood from her cheek, but just enough to stain his yellowed claw. “I want to tell you my mother’s prophecy,” he spoke clearly, patiently. There was a dire purpose in his words. “It has been put in motion, but I cannot fulfill it.”




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