you keep closing doors

POSTED: Sat Feb 17, 2018 12:13 am

how pure, how sweet the love beneath it

Seven long and nigh-sleepless nights had passed, bitter, crisp and clean in the wake of sobriety that gave her terrible shakes as her blood attempted to cleanse itself of her various toxins and abuses; bruises beneath her eyes betrayed what was left, making her look tired and worn, and there was a thinness in her fingers, fraying at the edges of her details stark against the angled cuts of her hybrid features. Thirst for drink and the ache of her lungs pulled inward on her - in her brain and in her chest, though she did her best to ignore the various itches that crawled about beneath her skin. For now, though, she was clean.

She could start over.

Perhaps Clover should've kicked her ass sooner. Her refined ears folded back into her messy hair as she neared on old territories, reclaimed and wild again in the absence of the coyotes; it felt strange, like a different land. Briarblack did not belong here; yet their new land did not yet feel like home, and she wondered what might have happened if she had never left her birthplace and stayed with her Mother, her brother, that band of hybrids. Her heart closed at the thought and her features skewed as she merely approached graves, tracing fingers over Cartier's cross a long and solid moment before unraveling raven feathers from her braided hair and tied them to a little chord from about her wrist, looping it around that wooden post and leaving it there; a memento; his sacrifice was still unforgotten and his significance to her aunt still resonating. Goliath's grave earned a long and level stare, her fingers moving to thumb at that lock tied round her neck turned frayed and thinned by her fiddling, and she merely took a seat where he was buried and studied the details of his wooden cross, trying to wipe the dust clear with her fingertips where her heart had been so buried, her good-byes still drawn long and unending every time she came and merely promised herself that she would not return, only to come back again and again.

February 14th <: | [wc — ---] template by hilli

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