#hazbi

So there she lived for decades; in a small cabin on the edge of the water where the hell-gators liked to bask on black glass warn down to sand. Deep grumbles for her echoing through the deep waters. Rippling the surface of the waters with their insistent call.

Requesting the touch of those darkened claws she hid so righteously from others. It was no one’s business what deals had been taken by her or others. The gators however, they never asked unnesseary questions. Never sneered at the old way the doe spoke, didnt chastise the poor little woman for lacking knowledge and being “behind the times.” No no, they only demanded the deep leather of their darkened skin be thoroughly teased by her claws.

Softly the woman smiles, cradling the head of a particularly large white beast in the cusp of her lap while the buzz of a faded melody danced in the humid air around them. A distant reminder of a time long past, something few remembered and even fewer stopped to enjoy.

“If happiness was a tangible thing it would be you~

If you’da told me the feeling you’d bring, I’d think it untrue~

And people search for a wonder like you, all of their lives~

You still amaze me after all this time…”

The scratch of that old style voxophone tickles the air as the doe begins to sing aloud to the music; beginning to loosing herself in the peaceful moment. There weren’t many times like this in the pits of despair, so it wasnt unheard of for someone to get soaked into it. So soaked in they could loose track of time.

“You pull me in like some kind of wind

Mesmerized by the hold I'm in

Leave you here, I don't wanna

I wanna…”

The tears that had gathered in the corners of those wine red eyes were unexpected but not scorned. The woman was used to the sudden flood of emotion that came with the loss of all she had.

“I, I will protect you at all costs

Keep you safe here in my arms

I, I will protect you at all costs

At all costs~”

A soft glow gathered on the surface of the lake; a chuckle escaping watery lips as Adelia watches the faded green shimmer of one of the few gifts she was granted. Watching as she uses it to subcontiously create images of both Alastor and herself. The ghostly images Dancing across the surface of the lake like an old picture box show.

Suddenly it was quiet.

The once chaos filled wood falls silent without warning; causing a near cosmic shift in the peace that had held the bayou together.