Lion Head Mesa But the roses were only to drain my inspiration

His answer was a snort.

She was my mother. Came the almost sulky reply, before he hissed through his teeth.

I was not aware you could not listen. Full of unexpected venom, in a way he did not know he could be.

Your message could have been given in five minutes at most. So why do you linger. Like a bad odor, like a vengeful spirit.

He would not suffer a moment longer with her. 

He did not know what to do when duty was done, but it obviously was. In his head, he began to frantically draft new orders, whatever he could think of. Find his father, drown the woman in front of him, march into the mountains. He needed it, needed those orders to function.