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Her prison shifted slightly as the Ezekiel’s weight sat down on the edge of it, and there were multiple stabs of hot needles into her broken frame. But she was accustomed to pain and didn’t pay much attention. Oversized coyote ears listened to his breath, and the muffled thuds of his heart, imagined or not. She would have shifted away from him, had things been different. Her name was spoken out for the second time, and she knew what was happening, though reality wasn’t quite right without the visual stimuli that had been taken from her. How ironic it all was. She had never gained any crude battle scars despite being who she was, but now when she had finally faced a proper defeat, the damage done was overwhelming.
She waited, and was rewarded with the purpose of his visit. She hadn’t expected him to come by to wish her well in any case. Perhaps she had known this was coming even before his approach, but it didn’t make it less horrifying. Her insides turned into salt, cold liquid; unimaginable sorrow. Although her personal life had been a rollercoaster of its own, she had always had her rank and her passion for the sword to relay on. What was left to lose now, when she didn’t even have that? Fate was cruel indeed, for death was certainly much better than this. She would have kept her honour in death, but she had survived, and was going to lose everything.
He came to ask her. Should she scream at him and lash out at his figure with vicious claws and teeth? Nothing she could do to him would help in the current situation. He put it eloquently though; she’d expected him to be bolder in his request. She exhaled in a long, burdened sigh. She didn’t have any power in the clan anymore. No place and no purpose. What a pitiful way to fall from grace. ”I understand,” and she did. For once she saw no reason to oppose him. She didn’t want to understand, but there was no reason to beat around the bush.
But her face dropped, regardless.
Your faith walks on broken glass
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