Black Morass Do you ever feel like falling for someone you never thought of falling for?

"not yet, but soon." he said, inexpressive; inscrutable, to Ramsay's declaration. no, he was assuredly alive, for better or worse. moreover, however, he was not in denial of a blind morrow -- the scathing heat around his throat enjoined him from that notion. he was tied to his fate just as tightly as he was tied to the chain, and he could no better yank it from his soul than from his around his neck. others may have deluded their trouble by a graver way of reasoning--that fates such as these were exorable by a pleading clasp, a vowing tongue, or perhaps a bargaining chip. he would die intentioned by circumstance, or thus make himself a hangman by his own decree. he had no preference.
the boy offered his name with seemingly no hesitation. Absalom did not return the favor, instead striding around the miscreation with a manner of fascination and interest, ears turning like oars as Ramsay worked over the name he had been given. what did a pendulous flower look like? "red, like a maple leaf. tail, like a stump." he said. "what is a blackfeather? what more can you tell me?" he asked with a pause in stride, gums pulling taut against his teeth.