Crisp linen sheets, freshly bleached in blood.

Akira · May 06, 2019, 03:12 PM

It is already too late to swim when the water reaches your lips.

Her spirit was consumed by curiosity, and from it stemmed greed. She was lured in by Kaertok’s throwaway of knowledge and she yearned for more.
With an earnest degree of deprivation in her dulcets of chime for voice, the Swan swished her tail in her lowly excitement. “Please- names, what was his brother’s name? Who is the current leader? What is their name? Have they discussed where their origin lies? Their motive?” She took a breath after her spill, trying desperately to recompose herself. She was better than this.

Resuming her walk, her head dipped in apology, oil-slick tipped auds flashing behind her. Her voice had been brought back to its needed level, calm, yet somber. Sad blows of bells in a funerals day. “Forgive me- I have not slept well. I have been searching for Ford since his dethroning. That is his name- Ford.”

Not all birds have been taught to fly. Some simply fall until they either learn, or perish.