The Bracken Woods MAKONO.

Devourer of Fate;

a girl in scarlet, the first time his eyes fell upon her. wrought in the blood of dead men and scattering her own across the battlefield like some sacred offering to every war-god whose hungry eyes followed her steps. who could ever look away from her? who could ever bear it, if not the gods themselves? and he was but a man — no — a moth caught by the glimmer of the sun.

Blessed by the Red Land;

a woman in ivory, when he'd laid her upon a bed of wildflowers to see her wounds to scars and her eyes to flames. whispered prayers in the names of all the gods of healing, a song to reach every corner of the earth. he'd thought her beautiful then. how foolish. how ignorant. how simple.

She Who Is Favoured by Ma'at;

a queen in gold, rising on fiery wings; not beauty in her but divinity. a living god.

@Makono.

every second he breathed her name, felt it in his veins and his bones and that hollow place where a soul might once have made its home. it was only her, now. his eyes were light upon her, his smile filled with mischief. think fast! he tossed the scavenged leg of a doe to her, his throw spiraling to the left when his shoulder twinged where he'd taken teeth to his flesh. worth it, of course.

anything for her.