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the weeping prophet
106 Posts
Ooc — Jaclyn
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May 07, 2024, 08:28 AM
A gentle touch, a gentle plea. He felt her as he had before the fever. Real. Grounded. Here.
The scent of her brother wrapped the room and surrounded him like an embrace. He could not smell Foxglove at all.
A sigh escaped him,
Just leave me to die.
His voice scratched like sagebrush. Scorched like the Gilded Sea. He could not sing for the rain.
His eyes burned, but tears would not come; they wracked through him again as a single sob, deep and dry.
The scent of her brother wrapped the room and surrounded him like an embrace. He could not smell Foxglove at all.
A sigh escaped him,
Just leave me to die.
Peridot,
His voice scratched like sagebrush. Scorched like the Gilded Sea. He could not sing for the rain.
I'm so sorry.
His eyes burned, but tears would not come; they wracked through him again as a single sob, deep and dry.
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Messages In This Thread
RE: afypnízo - by Peridot - May 07, 2024, 04:34 AM
RE: afypnízo - by Everett - May 07, 2024, 08:28 AM
RE: afypnízo - by Peridot - May 07, 2024, 08:40 AM
RE: afypnízo - by Everett - May 07, 2024, 08:57 AM
RE: afypnízo - by Peridot - May 07, 2024, 09:44 AM