[She wants to accuse him of madness, and yet she cannot. He spoke to the dead? A past shard-bearer? She wants to ask him if he is an idiot who trusts the dreams he has when he is dead, but in this twisted, fucked up “world” they’ve found themselves in… She knows she can’t. Maybe he did, maybe he spoke to someone-
But she doesn’t care. (Not right now, anyway.). Maybe the philosophers amongst them will drool and rub their hands over this, crowing about “the truth of this world” or the “balance” or whatever new thing it is excites them, but she-
She had cared about one thing.]
Another “bargain”? With who?
[Anger flashes on her face in time to how the storm behind her rumbles with a roll of thunder threatening the clap of lightning. The demon, the black-eyed gaki, one of the traitors? Who was it he had trusted to make it a “given” (hah) that he would be safely planted in that accursed Tree and revived, all while she had searched for him in vain, high and low, worry in her hearts like a fool? She still hasn’t let go of him, but the hot and icy air begins to collide, mix-
And though she is not crying, her expression strung out on shock and surging rage, the sound on the wind is a faint echo of a mournful wail of someone abandoned and left behind.]
no subject
But she doesn’t care. (Not right now, anyway.). Maybe the philosophers amongst them will drool and rub their hands over this, crowing about “the truth of this world” or the “balance” or whatever new thing it is excites them, but she-
She had cared about one thing.]
Another “bargain”? With who?
[Anger flashes on her face in time to how the storm behind her rumbles with a roll of thunder threatening the clap of lightning. The demon, the black-eyed gaki, one of the traitors? Who was it he had trusted to make it a “given” (hah) that he would be safely planted in that accursed Tree and revived, all while she had searched for him in vain, high and low, worry in her hearts like a fool? She still hasn’t let go of him, but the hot and icy air begins to collide, mix-
And though she is not crying, her expression strung out on shock and surging rage, the sound on the wind is a faint echo of a mournful wail of someone abandoned and left behind.]