Bonesplinter Ravine poetry is a way of taking life by the throat

she talks as pretty as she looks,
or at least maul thinks so.
something seems affable about her, approachable
despite the trained abruptness she carries
which maul suspects is a byproduct of protection
not some ugly, innate quirk.

she motions to a far off empire and his eyes follow
a plateau in the distance,
a home in the distance.

he has no home but he does not long for one
a bed is nice
a woman is nicer

maul has learned these commodities come with a price,
your comfort, your happiness,
your heart.

"i'm maul. gamma of.. well, these leaves about us,
though the wind has been talking of mutiny lately."
he grins a cheeky grin and bows
"i belong nowhere, but was looking for water."