eaten by the infinite, of being annulled by the only existing Absurd

as she shrunk away, bearing signs of abuse and cradling a single paw more carefully than the rest, stigmata realized he wanted little from this young creature even before her question had even reached him. he had not time for the fearful, he thought ruefully; her demeanor cancelling out the usefulness of her age. his mind inadvertently turned to redshank, who reeked of past trauma, and who had grown stronger because of it, rather than what this was.

the warhound lifted his chin and shook his head once. nothing - the gesture said, and he gave her a chance to recover from the shock of his sudden attention before taking it away in another abrupt motion. he was in search of soldiers - survivors - and in his not so humble opinion: that girl would only live if she was lucky. and well loved. stigmata turned, and continued on his way.