Lion Head Mesa [wp] ferrous

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: some mildly graphic descriptions of death

How long? Zaahira couldn't say.
Some nights there were few dreams at all. Others were pleasant; the smell of sweet smoke and taste of bitter wine, laughter fluttering from chests. Soft touches, devotion, worship; lazy afternoons in the reeds while cicadas hum from above — what could have been.
And the worst; when the wine turns to poison in the asp's veins and ruddy, cold skin smells of the first signs of decomposition. Black eyes gone malignant, unmoving; blood. So much of it, how nauseating the feeling as it rusts with oxygen and grows cold, even as the sun beats overhead.
Months have now passed, and still—
She swallows; pupils blown. Since before the war. Though that often saturated her subconscious just as well.