Blacktail Deer Plateau the swelling of broken violins

@Olive

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it would not be long now, armand told himself. already he had begun to burn with fever, and this warmed his mind even as his body suffered beneath the cold and brumous skies of heralded wintertime. he walked, but oft he walked with the boys at the painter's palazzo; armand laughed with them, he heard their jokes, and when he finally collapsed, his lips parted and he breathed not the icy air, salted with the nearby sea, but the breath of his master, his maker.
the boy stood beneath a pregnant moon upon the highest point of a cold and empty plateau, and wove in trembling steps, once more in a dream. and as before, as always, the great man stood with his back to armand. it was only when the ganymede tread a third step that the wolf began to turn, and behind him the sun rose to gild his fur in scarlet, and a smile began to bloom upon his lips.
armand's body tore him violently from the dream and threw him down upon the grass with a jerk, for he had been too close to walking over the plateau's edge, and boy spasmed there in a fit of anger, shrieking with an inconsolable rage until he weakened himself and lay still, save for the tearstained breaths he drew through clenched teeth.[/tr][/td][/table]