Wapun Meadow boorish

the circumstances of his birth had been forever veiled from merrick, taken to the hastily-dug grave in which indra had rotted before discovery. born into blood from blood choking on the dead scent of siblings too weak to live, he alone surviving with the stench of their withering cauls carried forever.
fields was slipping forward then, and merrick tensed with the wild ripple of sensation that someone should be so close to his throat. but he fought against it; chin lifted; embraced; he is here is here is here. nostrils filled again with the metallic sanguine snap; it rose heady, lucid, enlivening. 
tears now, salt to scour the enlightened planes of his face, until closer he came to fields. touch all of me, arteries veins heart spine — blood in a slow cascade.