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@geoformoneeightyseven
Intoners were the personified wishes of mankind. Heralds of justice descending from the heavens to rain peace over the lands. Goddesses who held no weaknesses, no equals in the flesh of mortals, had no obstacles they could not overcome. Or so the people wrote. And so, they were wrong. Strip a fruit of all its worms, polish it into a shine and convince the world it always was and always will be perfect. Humans loved to aggrandize those they worshiped;
But it was untrue. Just a pretty, pretty lie. Intoners had bruises. They could be rotten. They could die.
And she walked closer, step by step, to the only creature who could grant her death. ... Well, normally. The details were wishy-washy here, at best. ‘Whatever!’ As Zero would rudely shout.
“... Could those jaws crush me to mulch? Spread me across meadows and allow the seeds of anxiety to sprout? Please tell and not show. Not yet.”
