Wapun Meadow the color of blood in the violent setting of a dying sun
the gunslinger
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#3
a soft voice pulled him from his sleep.
 
the fluttering of his eyelids for a moment before the glimmer of gold as he locked his sights on the unfamiliar figure that had happened upon him.
 
he should have known better. the ghost drew his head up slightly, wincing at the pain from his wounds. he knew he should not have shown weakness to this unknown entity, but she did not seem intent on causing harm just yet. the haggard young beast drew himself up into a sitting position and regarded her with a weary glance.
 
“i did not intrude on your home, did i?”
 
the ghost’s voice was weary and rough. the question did seem genuine enough, however. illidan felt as though he had fallen into a drunken sleep. the weight of everything that he had carried had finally broken his back, or a portion of his mind. all he could think was that he did not want to be indebted to another and he feared fighting in the state he was in. if he had stumbled into this woman’s home, he would simply have to let her kill him.
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RE: the color of blood in the violent setting of a dying sun - by Illidan - October 31, 2020, 10:16 PM