Arrow Lake and he floats outside my prison window

he was loathe to leave the adamantine leader with an unfinished task, but to disobey would be rebellion -- and thorn still remembered the sharp press of stigmata's teeth against his neck. he dropped the limb and gave an orderly nod -- between the two of them, they had done impressive work. certainly, their efforts deserved them a drink.

he made down to the river, trudging where the ice was thin -- he would drink his fill and await stigmata, and then later, he estimated they would start anew. for now he was content to catch his breath and conserve his energy - already he felt the soreness of the day's work settle on his frame, and knew the rest was well earned.