Hideaway Strath We'll churn you a forecast that wriggles and reeks

keepin everything before this vague

so, so many things had triggered rohesia's infamous wrath. the woman was a piping kettle, unkempt sentiments and brewing atrocities. the last thing she needed was her cousins, or any of her kith for now. she'd wait until they were called again to move. 

and so there the cygnet hovers broodingly. chanting? no, no singing? ...a chantey...fuck.

ravinger, fucking ravinger. of all the people that could had a flaming branch land on their head, of all the old women and men who were strangled to death by smoke, all the slowed who'd straggled and died in other far-off lands their crumpled bodies left in a plume of destruction and flame --

ravinger, of all those people, had to survive. after germanicus and her cousin, it was him.

"and it's a real shame too. i would have preferred a world without your voice or your face ever encroaching on us again," she chides in with a faux smile, limend with vitriol and falsehoods.