Shadewood It's strange what desire will make foolish people do

"Stop crying."

Plethoras of scornful words hissed their way upon the air toward her, little arrows set alight with flames on their very tips; she could feel that burning, as it singed beneath her skin, dancing in her eyes. She was never enough - always the innocent doll, surrounded by the storms of ferocity. But unlike what they saw, in their bitter eyes, she was a fighter. One of a different kind, and as Raziel's twisted dominance over her swirled like an angry hive of bees in her chest, Gwendolyn's lips curled in defiance. Quiet vexation.

She could picture that look in her ebony husband's eyes, as he peered down to observe her - as though she was an object, a delicate pearl of his own collection. She could not place his intentions, not without bracing the maddened maelstrom that had consumed his skull, and so, she was afraid. Afraid, hurt, incandescent, isolated. Alone in her own home, untrusting of those who were supposed to be her family. Blue sapphires drifted shut, hoping to settle the frustrated trepidation, but when she opened those jewels she was met again with the stare of the warrior. "Then why did you do it? You could have said no." And yet, could she? If Gwen herself had said no, would he have listened?

A sigh trembled from her lips. "I don't want to hate you Minori. I'm tired of hating. I know I should have done a much better job with this place, and for that I am sorry, to you and to everyone else..." It was truth, but how it would be recieved, she could not predict. "Raziel..." she whispered, chewing at the soft flesh of her cheeks. "Minori, he's different. I don't know what happened to him." Help me. It was an unspoken plea, but would she know what Gwen meant? Or would she turn away, caught in indifference. Did Minori care? Who did, amongst this cursed wood?

I fear for my children.