Qeya River I know the pieces fit

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: possible abusive/captive themes throughout

and in an instant she was subdued. forced to be good for not only her sake but ksura's too. she figured it to be nothing more than masculine grief that made him hold her trusted companion down longer. for she doubted it would be something like pity.

nothing mattered when her identity had been stripped away so cleanly. whatever had been built in the eyes of wayward wives was now replaced by saatsiine. she hated him for the way she would have liked him in any other way. caribou hunter she could have been. she might have been it for silvertongue or wren, with ksura even if she let her thoughts roam free.

but only one from her thoughts remained. ksura. so steadfast in a way she was certain no mortal deserved. she knew that most certainly this man did not deserve it —

sun eater with his little rain cloud.

his next cluster of words felt like one punch after the next. what use was her name to a man who cared little about what remained here? he had gutted house and rebranded it in this very moment. why give him any piece of her when he had just remade her for his image?

healing! oh, it was enough that she offered a laugh that sounded more like gurgling. perhaps it was some, but her words escaped in a breath between — who will heal us? you killed the healer. her head is already rolling thunder and she is already slouching into a hunched sit. too tired, too pained, to keep standing after she'd already been forced low.

it seemed being good had only lasted when there was direct violence involved — and she prepared for it now. intimately familiar with the taste of her own blood today.

feel free to PP any punishment if it comes, senka is 0 fight right now