Blacktail Deer Plateau the swelling of broken violins

[table width=55%][tr][td]
why did she speak so? armand gleaned nothing from her words but an optimism he did not wish to hear. she spoke of his organs -- how did she know they did not pain him? they did nothing for the child but keep his body locked into a world where he did not wish to live. the boy scowled, and openly, and at length he raised himself up to pace some shaky steps away from the woman. he turned to behold her then, this creature swaddled in the burial shrouds of a small and beautiful child, some wraith just escaped from the stale breath of the grave.
"you do not believe the words you speak," armand hissed, returning to the woman's presence with a gaze that had edged itself in ice. "all these endless platitudes and the prattling, like the clacking empty teeth of dead skulls." as quickly as his wrath had come, it abated. "but you are lovely. there is no need for loneliness when the wine of beauty is upon your tongue."[/tr][/td][/table]