Word Count » 384 Shut the hell up I love you. We can wrap if you want, either post again or archive, your choice beotch.
She had seen the desert in his fur, and she had seen the sea in his eyes, the mountains of a hundred distant lands, a thousand different souls fallen before that shadow. She was familiar with him, and she had known him before -- this feeling ached in her bones as she saw the boy, still clutching his sword. In this moment she did not care whether she lived or died; thoughts of her children, Larkspur, anyone other than that thing whispering to her from the depths of the boy's belly, the deepest reaches of his soul was irrelevant.
She saw it then, sliding slowly forth from him in even in the brightness of day, some polymorphous and shifting thing that had no true shape. There was no boundary to him, and all else was dim in an instant, the chartreuse eyes of the woman widening in fear. It had recognized her before; perhaps it would not now, denied the memories of its previous existences. All through this, the quiet remained; nothing in their surroundings seemed to change; no one but the sable-hued woman herself saw this thing as it slid from him and seemed to reach out for her, but she shrank back physically all the same, sliding against the ground as he hackles raised, her lips drawing back in a snarl. Her breath came in gasps, drawing quickly from the still copper-scented air
Yellow-green eyes flared wide again and she seemed to snap from a trance, though none of the panic was gone. She shrank back more, wanting nothing more than to get away from him and that corpse, the thing she had seen and not seen. It was gone now, even from the vision of the only one to have seen it. Awkwardly, she put her back to a tree and drew her knees up against her chest, wrapping her hands around her legs. It was only then she realized she had never dropped the liver, the thing that had showed her these things -- it had been smashed and crushed to paste in her hands, and she wiped them awkwardly on the ground, choking a whimper away, not wishing for the boy to hear it. Eris shivered nonetheless, trembling as if the air was frigid even in the springtime warmth.
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