Porcupine Ridge I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies

Most of what she'd kept close was inevitably taken. Perhaps that was why she latched onto her skills so strongly, everything tangible, real; that can be taken away. What is in her mind could not be, her knowledge would remain to her. He had the strength to defend what he wanted and still he kept nothing close. Strange. She couldn't help but wonder why. 'Cept me, right? she mused, teasing but oh so serious, she walked the line.

If it weren't true it would be. She was a parasite.

But things were changing and she was nothing but an optimistic beast, unlearning after each trial. Mm. Some. She'd answer with a casual shrug of bony shoulders. My brother, once. Here, I have Dreven.

The first behemoth she'd hauled in tow, seemed she had a knack for it. It was a rather sad little list of friends. She knew the others, sure, but she hadn't earned every bit of trust she could. She was trusted, yes, but not loved. Not loved like she needed to be.

There's a momentary breath between her words, she comes back to add another stalk to Lorcan's labours. He's disgusting sometimes, but.. he's nice to me. Her legs shuffled a bit, a softness in her voice after her chastisement of his suggestive habits.

That was her true definition of good and evil. She cared very little for crimes against others, pasts soaked in blood were water under the bridge. Who was she to judge anyway? She did not have volume in her transgressions, but she still had blood on her hands all the same. Frankly, shamefully, killers and killing both intrigued and amused her.