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Weather Vane

Discussion in 'The Hooded Crow Inn [Fiction]' started by LynneOfMagincia, Jul 3, 2011.

  1. Twisted. Umbra was laced with gnarled branches of dementia laden families and the Seiren were a good example. Interwoven twigs and trunks of complicated lunacy etched with moments of lucidity. She understood it.

    But was it something she could duplicate?

    Would she want to?

    Tapping the ball-peen end of her smiths hammer against the shadow table, inflicting damage in the form of chips she answered. Yes. The problem was crawling, slithering out of the warm Magincian skin she was comfortable in and into the cold dilapidated shell of one of them. It meant leaving pieces of her behind. It meant chucking her ability to trust that what she saw was face value. But then, the past few weeks had taught nothing was ever face value. With a heavier swing she broke off the corner of the table sending the shard ricocheting off the wall and imbedding itself in the dark green of the wooden chest. Her eyes remained focused on the container moments longer drinking in the contents.

    Dropping the hammer down to the table she had maimed she strode over purposefully and opened it. The matching green leather with the skull and cross bones on the book cover within had begun to collect dust. Stashed since it had started.. stashed since his death.. her calloused hands reached in to pull it out. Cradling it against her with her left hand she cracked open a second chest opposite and withdrew a blade. Remembrance of Captain Valek and his own steel filtered through her thoughts. A malice coated gleam sparkled in her eyes.

    “Do you know what you are doing?” The voice was soft and caring and every bit as ethereal as they had been since her birth.

    “I do.”
  2. Levi777

    Levi777 Guest

    (=D>< Enjoyed reading this.